Monday, August 30, 2010

My Kid is Bad at Sports and Other Lies

Honestly, the things people will do to win stuff! There I was, minding my own business, enjoying the music of Green River Ordinance (the warm-up band for the warm-up band for the Goo Goo Dolls) at the Greek Theatre last night, when one of the band members said something about "we're giving away this guitar" and "send us a tweet and you could win."  So I figured, there's not that many people here yet, how many could possibly be tweeting?  Turned on my phone, looked up @GRO on twitter and found mucho tweets on the page, all saying something lame like "guitar, please" or "will bake brownies for guitar" or "entry for Greek contest" yada yada -- you get the idea.  In between songs, one band member mentioned that they'd been together for 10 years and started playing in high school.   Then he said something about all of them being bad at sports so their parents bought them guitars.  So, I promptly tweeted to @GRO "You guys rock! My kid is bad at sports & needs a guitar!"

Switchfoot was up next, and as they rocked the Greek Theatre, I periodically looked at my phone to see if a response had come in.  Nothing. Huh. Guess I wasn't more clever than all these people after all.  Intermission, then the Goo Goo Dolls are on - the reason we are here in the first place.   Nikki and I conspired to buy the tickets for her daddy's Father's Day gift, then she managed to land a job this summer serving at weddings for the same caterer that services the Greek, so she got us on a VIP list for the hospitality suite.  The Goo Goo Dolls did a great show - and thankfully performed "Better Days" ...which they somehow forgot to do two years ago when they were here...

Meanwhile, no incoming tweets for @tamiromani saying she had won a guitar for her bad-at-sports kid! The next time I checked, my battery had died a final death for the night and the phone had completely given up the ghost.  At 10:30 we were heading for the car and on our way home shortly after that.

Thinking I should probably charge the phone before heading upstairs to bed, I plugged it in and let it power up.  Little noises, little twitter icons - what's this?

"@GRO > @tamiromani:  you win! Come to merch after the goos"

Whaaaaaaaat?

So I start replying things like "phone died..... missed your tweet....any way to redeem?"

Those of you who know me well, are probably guessing (correctly) that if I don't hear back in the next two minutes I am getting in the car and driving 23 miles one way back to the Greek Theatre to get my guitar!

So, I grabbed one of my bad-at-sports kids, hopped in his Scion, and hightailed it back up the 210 to the 134 to the 5 to Los Feliz Blvd. to the right-turn-at-the-big-fountain (hey, I'm a landmark girl, not a street names girl) until I was stopped by the LAPD officer saddled with the job of keeping people out of Griffith Park after its 10pm closing time.

"But officer, I won a guitar by tweeting the band during the concert and I just want to see if they are still there and I can get it and....." With a roll of his eyes (I guess he decided that I wasn't heading up the hill to vandalize the observatory) he let me through.  Now, I'm a woman on a mission.

Can I just say that those Roadies are super-efficient?  Concert over at 10:30, we arrive at 11:54 and the buses are idling and ready to pull out, the last of the equipment is being loaded in the semi-trucks and they are almost ready to ROLL!  Of course, I go to the gate anyway, and the Security Gal (I use the term very loosely, as she was sitting on a bench, winding hair strands around her finger to stay awake), suggested I go in the office to find out about the guitar.  Which, of course, I did.

The 6 people or so getting ready to leave the office at midnight after a VERY long day and trying to decide where to eat on the way home, listened to my story and stared blankly at me.  "Well, I hope you didn't come too far..." When I told them my city, faces blank, they said "where?"  It's clear to me that most people who live in L.A. do not EVER travel east of Pasadena.  If they can help it.  Ditto for me going west of Pasadena, but at least I know what order the cities fly by me on the freeway.  Anyway, the lady with the biggest desk offered to go backstage to "merch" to see if they left the guitar for me.  They didn't.  So, she then offered to contact them next week to see what could be done about getting it to me.  Over and above the call, I say.

I'll let you know what happens....

Saturday, August 21, 2010

The REAL Bridge to Nowhere is not in Alaska!


As it turns out, some days I am able to pull off this morning person thing, especially if I have partners in crime.  Leaving the house at 4:45 a.m. to be at the trailhead by 6:00, 8 of us (including 5 and 7 year old kids plus one labrador retriever) embarked on a 10 mile hike to the Bridge to Nowhere.  This being August, it was a good idea to leave at that time.  It was already in the high 70's by 6 a.m., so you know where it goes from there! Our only salvation from the heat was knowing we would be crossing the San Gabriel river at least 8 times each way (maybe more, it was just too much trouble to count.)  At the first crossing, we attempted to keep our feet dry:

By 11:00, on our way back, our river crossings looked more like this:


And this:
And this:
 









In between, we were treated to a really great hiking experience.  It was long, that's for sure, but the elevation gain was minimal and so was the cardio factor.  Still, my HR monitor managed to show 2,245 calories burned - even though it took almost 7 hours to do it! One foot in front of the other, that's all it takes.  At least I get credit for working out that day.  Well, in TamiLand, I do :)

Along the way, the typical ruggedness of trails in Azusa Canyon treated us to all kinds of visual specialties.  Yes, it was hot and dry - and the occasional cigarette butt on the trail left by the occasional idiot made my blood boil.  Hellooooo?  Can you say fire season?  (yes, that is a real season here in SoCal).



The trail got dicey just a couple of times:


Apparently, there's gold in them thar hills! We saw more than a few prospectors with pans and sluice boxes:

We startled a big horn sheep and it hurried down a hill, across the trail, into a ravine and up the other side in seconds (sorry for the rear view, but it was scurrying up the hill far away from me by the time I saw it.)


Finally, our destination ~ The Bridge to Nowhere ~

Sorry, Sarah Palin, this Bridge to Nowhere was before your time!

Aptly named, this beautiful span of concrete built in 1936 ends at the side of the mountain, and goes nowhere:


According to Wikipedia, the story goes that the bridge was built in anticipation of a road through the mountains that would connect Azusa to Wrightwood.  The bridge was completed in 1936, but in March of 1938 what had been constructed of the road was washed out in "the great flood," and the project was abandoned.  With no cars ever driven across its span, the concrete looks new.  It's a bit spooky to see a bridge some 70+ years old that looks like they finished it last year.  On weekends Bungee America provides the only professionally run bungee jumping operation in California from the bridge.  Although I'd like to go back & witness the fun, you won't see me taking a flying leap off the Bridge to Nowhere anytime soon.  My midlife crisis just isn't that spectacular.

PB & Banana - yum!


















Just as we arrived and sat down to eat our lunches, the sun peeked over the mountain and warmed things up pretty quickly.  The blue-green pools below us looked so inviting, but we were hard-pressed to make it back to the cars by noon so some of us could go to work, drive to San Diego, etc.

Yeah, it's BRIGHT!
Of course, the kids had no problem with 10 miles...






























This being August and all, the hike out was a bit warm, and the shade we had enjoyed on the way in was like the bridge - NOwhere!  I managed to score a killer headache from the heat -- but in spite of that, I would do this hike again.... any takers?

PS: anyone interested in more info, here's a great review of the hike by a REAL hiker:   Modern Hiker/Bridge to Nowhere

I Don't Do Mornings, Do I?

I really do wish I were a morning person.  I do.  Truth is, I don't do mornings.  I find that late at night is my quiet time to get things done.  The house is still. The air is cool.  I am generally alone with my thoughts.  I can write. Or read. Or pray. Or whatever.

And yet, I really do wish I were a morning person.  Especially on those mornings, like today, when I actually get myself up and out of the house for a walk before 8 a.m.  (Yes, I know all you true morning afficianados are laughing your heads off right now... hey, it's a start!  The 6 a.m. walk just isn't in my vocabulary yet.) I admire those people who can get up before dawn and utilize that quiet time for study and prayer, writing, and exercising.  Perhaps some day that will be me.  On days when I actually pull off accomplishing something of substance before 9:00 a.m. I am so happy!  Like today.  Truth be told, my motivation for climbing out of bed on a Saturday morning was to quietly stand back and make sure my son made it to work by 8.  Turns out, I didn't need to do that - he was right on schedule with getting up and out the door.  But I'm awake now, sooooo. 

Walk the dog.. that's it!  I took Woody for his mile (at 12, that's about all he can do), and he was ecstatic!  I enjoyed the coolness of the morning, the way the flowers turn their heads towards the sun, the lady with the hyper dog who spends her walk avoiding any one with another dog, noticing how many people have silly lawn ornaments (that's another post in itself, I think), and listening to worship tunes on my iPod.  Spectacular!  After Woody's mile, I dropped him off and continued on my way for 2 more.  Yes, I think I would like to be a true morning person someday!

Tuesday, July 6, 2010

The Joy of Olio

Suddenly, it matters where my olive oil comes from.  Really!  It matters from whence my olive oil cometh.  What's up with that?

So, I'm out of olive oil.  Rather than pay $10 for a couple tablespoons of it at the market, I add it to my Sam's Club list and head out the door.  Now, you've gotta understand that I've never given another thought to the origins of my EVOO (with apologies to Rachael Ray) prior to visiting Italy, where I paid 26 Euros for a ghastly small bottle which makes everything it touches taste like heaven! (When IS that little bottle going to get here?)  In fact, I didn't know it existed until I took on a glorious Italian surname by marriage.  No kidding!  Good ol' vegetable oil was all I'd ever seen in the kitchen before that.

Like I said, I'd never given a thought to olive oil origins - I naturally assumed it was from Italy, of course.  Then, on the "oil aisle" of Sam's Club I noticed a sign that said "California Olive Oil" - gasp - whaaaaaaat? There are olive trees in California?  My righteous indignation surprised me and I supposed this is how the Italians and French reacted when they learned that California grew grapes, and not just for eating - if you know what I mean.

I was willing to pay $14 for a 2 liter bottle of Bertolli Olive Oil (which must be Italian - I mean, Bertolli?) instead of the same price for 3 liters of the Sam's Club Member's Mark brand because the store brand label said, "INGREDIENTS:  HIGH QUALITY EXTRA VIRGIN OLIVE OIL FROM SPAIN, ITALY, GREECE AND TUNISIA."  Are you kidding me?  Now I'm confused.  (Even more so after looking on a map to see where in the heck is Tunisia, anyway?)  How could they cold press fresh olives from the trees of four different countries and bottle it before it goes bad?  Perhaps each bottle holds the oil from a tree in XX country and you never know what you are getting?  I suppose you could just live in TamiLand and assume your particular bottle of oil came from a tree in Italy...

Just for chuckles I looked at the Bertolli bottle, which read,"INGREDIENTS: HIGH QUALITY EXTRA VIRGIN OLIVE OIL FROM SPAIN, ITALY, GREECE AND TUNISIA."

Guess I'll go for more bang for my buck and get the 3 liter bottle.  Sigh.

Tami

P.S. It has come to my attention that Costco has real Italian olive oil.... go figure...

Tuesday, June 15, 2010

Italy recap (sort of...)

Roma. Colosseum. Ancient ruins. St. Peter's Basilica. Vatican Museum. Walking. Walking. GELATO. Metro rides. Sistene Chapel. Piazzas. Eating. Sleeping. GELATO. Walking. Traffic. Train. Italians arguing. Firenze. Duomo. More Walking. Train to Pisa. Climb the Leaning Tower. Eat. Walking. Bus ride to Lucca.  Rent beat-up bikes. Ride around the Lucca medieval wall. Walking. Train to Florence. Train to Cinque Terre. Very long day. Italian Riviera. Hiking. Walking. Feet in the Mediterranean Sea. GELATO. Long ride home. Climb the stairs to apt. Very tired. Sleeping in. Driver takes us to Tuscan countryside.  Wine tasting. Nonna's lasagne - amazing! Must. Have. Recipe! Villas. Castles. Wealthy Italians. Fiat mini van. Come home to Florence. GELATO.  Hike up the stairs. Packing. Off to Venice.  Vaparetto shuttle boat.  Magical scenery.  Beautiful.  GELATO. I'm so tired - that's it for now!  Will post a couple photos next time....

Wednesday, June 9, 2010

Travelogue 101 and the quirky \British keyboard...

\well, the first two legs of our journey are complete, and \i find myself sitting in \london \Heathrow airport - in the British Airways lounge to be exact, and I think this may be the only time \i have a few moments to write for awhile.... when we get to Rome, we hit the ground running, so to speak -- as we have only given ourselves a day and half to see the necessary objects before moving on to a little slower pace and five nights in \florence.

I just have one question\:  Why is the \ & | key where the shift key is supposed to be on a |British keyboard?  Along with the necessary £ and € keys, in addition to the $ key -- (how very international of them!) it looks like my keyboard at home, and yet |I seem to be typing just one key removed for some words. For illustration purposes, |I'm going to forgo my usual need for typing perfection just this once, as I am sleep-deprived and it's just too much work, for one thing... for another thing - I think it's funny.

\Now, on to the journey so far:  three trips through security (fyi, in Canada and |Europe you do not have to remove your shoes but you do have to give up the unopened xl bottle of Evian you lifted from the lounge in YVR), and two flights -- waiting for our flight to Rome at the moment, which will leave at 18:30 (and yes, \I've changed my watch to a 24 hour time clock, let's just keep things simple on this trip okay|?)##
(apparently the return key also has a difference of location...)#

We will get a sampling of 4 different airlines by the time we get home, so |I think I may be a good candidate to provide a comparative analysis of |Business/\first class service on each by the end of the month, if anybody cares.  I must say, the sleeper seat in Club World business class on the 9 hour British |AIrways flight from Vancouver was a welcome treat.  I got a whole 4 hours of sleep -- which is a new record for me on an overnight flight.  |Of course, we had a light breakfast before landing and now we are expected to eat lunch in the lounge as it's 15:36 already!  Jet lag - it's a beautiful thing...#

Many thanks go out to L.O., who arranged these flights for us as a thank you for Jim's stellar construction work over the past few years on her behalf. Her arrangements have allowed us to not only fly in style, but relax in comfort in the British Airways Club World lounges in Vancouver and London....

Here in \London, it appears British Airways OWNS Heathrow -- or at least terminal 5.  this is their hub/headquarters and the lounge is cavernous.  The fam is on the other side of the lounge, and they are lounging, of course.  N is stretched out and asleep on a couch, C is undoubtedly checking his Facebook page, and J is reading the Daily Mail or some London newspaper.  I'm sitting at one of about 30 (!!) computer monitors in the taking care of  business section of the facility, with CNN and BBC News on flat screens overhead. Nice.

Think I'll go for a walk downstairs in a minute and check out Harrod's.

Friday, June 4, 2010

My, What Pretty Background You Have...

Well...... for those of you who take a look at this blog even semi-frequently, you'll notice I've changed the background design.  Again.  This whole blogging thing is new to me and I'm finding the endless free gadgets available on the web to be completely distracting.  ADHD level distracting.  I mean... is this cute, or what?  Honestly, it makes me want to create 3 more blogs just so I can be all Cybill-like and have multiple personalities.  (As if having two wasn't bad enough........ahem, blogs, I mean)

So, let me know what'cha think!  If you don't like it, as they say in Texas about the weather, just wait a minute -- it'll change....

Thursday, June 3, 2010

Italian in Training

It's not like this Swedish-American-Heinz57 girl hasn't been in training since marrying The Italian in 1983... but I feel like I'm embarking on the ultimate training exercise:  a real-life trip to Italy!!

I really will try to post some updates while we're gone, but seriously, if I can't keep up with my gigantor 27 inch monitor at home, do you think my little Droidy-droid screen is going to suffice in typing all the crazy random information that will be going through my brain while in Italy?  Still, we'll see....

So much planning, preparing, research, etc. etc has been done over the past few weeks - I just hope I can really pull it off and make my family think I'm worthy of an Italian name... no, really!  One of my great hopes is that we will magically run into someone with one of our family heritage names in the little towns of Pisa or Lucca (where we think they are from) and be able to find a distant relative (hopefully one who runs a fabulous restaurant), and bring home some news about the cousins that look just like the hubby and in-laws... heh, heh!

Or, we could just have a great time, see some amazing scenery, eat some delicious food and call it a day.
That would make me happy, too.....

Wednesday, February 24, 2010

On Being Blonde ~ and Learning Not to Overfeed the Garbage Disposal!

Truth be told, I can really get annoyed at blonde jokes (or blond jokes - you'll find that I use these spellings interchangeably, just like on dictonary.com.)  Anyway, most of the time I cringe when my inbox spews out a particularly inflammatory idiom against women with my hair color of choice.  I mean, I'm NOT DUMB!! and believe me, I know plenty of brunettes who fit the profile a lot better than I.  BUT, I sure do have my moments... in fact, I chose the "Blondemonium" title for my blog to take a swipe at laughing at myself and learning to go with the flow that so often accompanies the craziness of life in general.

Tonight, I became the blonde joke.  Whilst fixing a lovely dinner of bacon-wrapped filet for my mister, I found a bag of old lettuce in the frig that needed to be disposed of.  So, instead of just dropping it in the trash like I usually do, I decided to do the environmentally friendly thing and re-use the bag.   So, guess where the lettuce went? Yup - right down that old sink with the garbage disposal running full speed ahead.  Apparently, in my haste to dispose of the offending lettuce, I smooshed it down the drain too quickly and things got ugly from there.  Now, picture this:  I have a very large kitchen sink set-up with two large sinks on each side and a smaller, higher one in the middle where the disposal is located.  To my horror, water filled with green chunks started backing up in ALL THREE SINKS!! Yikes!  Knowing that my mister was due home any minute and expecting at least a decent dinner, if not a nice one, I tried everything.  I kept the disposal running in hopes that somehow the green mess would miraculously dissipate on its own.  I got the toilet plunger from the garage and plunged each sink drain like I was drilling for enough oil to keep the kids in college.  I even bailed water from the sinks and into a bucket -- all to no avail.  So, with my head down and feeling blonder than usual, I met my mister in the garage and exclaimed, "I screwed up again!"  His initial reaction, "I screwed up? How?" made me smile and calm down a bit -- "no - not you, ME.  I clogged up the sink... I'm so sorry."  With a grumble, he came in to survey the damage.  Knowing what was coming (yes, I have done this before) (sigh), I had removed everything from under the sink and fetched the towels we would need to clean up the mess.  Wouldn't you know? Just when I was all down on myself and feeling insecure about how stupid I can be sometimes, my mister came through for me, assuring me that "it's ok," and calmly reminding me to just put the stuff in S-L-O-W-E-R next time.... How sweet is that?  I mean, for the life of me I can't figure out why something that causes him a fair amount of work to fix gets him all cute and patient-like, when other times he can get all pinchy-faced if I leave a few pieces of mail in the wrong place.  And they say women are impossible to understand! (I'm thinkin' it's a tie)...

Of course, in all the confusion, I slightly overcooked the filet mignon and promised, promised, promised myself and my man that I would not do this EVER again.
Just like I did the last time.

Monday, February 22, 2010

Preparing for a Ski Trip

I would love to take credit for writing this, but it was in our local paper, the Pasadena Star News, a couple of weeks ago under the heading "Slice of Wry."

Preparing for a Ski Trip:
  • Stretch a small, but wide, rubber band around the top half of your head before you go to bed.
  • If you wear glasses, begin wearing them with glue smeared on the lenses.
  • Place a small, but angular, pebble in your shoes.  Line them with crushed ice and tighten a c-clamp around your toes.
  • Find the nearest ice rink and walk across the ice 20 times in your ski boots, carrying two pairs of skis, accessory bag and poles.  Sporadically drop things.
  • Secure one of your ankles to a bed post and ask a friend to run into you at a high speed.
  • Slam your thumb in a car door.  Don't go see a doctor.
  • Clip a lift ticket to the zipper of your jacket and ride a motorcycle fast enough to make the ticket lacerate your face.
  • Fill a blender with ice, leave the lid off, put your face over the opening and hit the pulse button and let the spray blast your face.  Leave the ice on your face until it melts.
  • Put on as many clothes as you can and then proceed to take them off because you have to go to the bathroom.  Repeat often.
  • Drive slowly for five hours - anywhere - as long as it's in a snowstorm and you're following an 18-wheeler.
  • Go to a fast-food establishment and "insist" on paying $8.50 for a hamburger.  Be sure you are in the longest line!
  • Buy a new pair of gloves.  Immediately throw one away.
  • Throw away a hundred dollar bill.
Repeat all of the above daily until it's time for the real thing!

Sunday, February 21, 2010

I Heart Skiing!! Especially at Mammoth...

Those last minute adventures, vacations, dinner plans, whatever... always seem to be the best, don't they?  On Monday, the weather looked like it was holding to be a beautiful Tuesday, so plans were confirmed to join my friend (GFS) and her boyfriend (BFC) & GFS's son to fly to Mammoth for the day!  Hard to pass that one up... N even played hooky from school and got someone to cover her work shift so she could join us.  We arrived at the Corona airport at 6:30 for wheels up at 7:00, and had a beautiful flight up the Owens Valley to arrive at Mammoth-Yosemite airport an hour and a half later.  After driving that same route a few weeks ago, leaving at 4:45 a.m. and arriving around 11:00 exhausted and attempting to ski the rest of the day, I can see how you could really get spoiled if you had the option of flying your twin engine Cessna instead!


Seatbelts on & passengers are ready for takeoff!!



Speeding down the home turf runway...




Amazing views all the way!
Flying at 12,500 feet, we were just 2,005 feet below the summit of Mt. Whitney



The little black strip to the right of the 2 lane road (HWY 395) is our target.



Beautiful!


And so very cold!! N warming her hands in the engine 
while waiting for the taxi ride to Mammoth Mountain.





Best snow I've ever seen on Cornice Bowl


How would you like to have THIS waiting for you after a day of skiing?
We were parked right next to it, so gawking was a given...


Time to say goodbye to beautiful Mammoth and a perfect ski day!


Back home ~ Our flights were uneventful, just like we like 'em!

Thanks to BFC for his exceptional piloting skills, and GFS for making the call to invite us to join you!
N and I had the best day!! Love ya

Sunday, February 14, 2010

Tow Head Defined

Remember my "note to self?" Well, I didn't last an hour and my inquiring mind had to know.  First of all, it's not a "toe" it's "TOW" -- isn't that helpful?
According to Yahoo Answers - here's the story:

In colonial times, families grew their own flax to make into fabric for clothing. Transforming the flax into thread was a complicated, involved process with many time-consuming steps. After the flax was harvested, it was soaked in water for several days to soften it so the inner fibers could be removed from the stalk. To separate the long, thin fibers from the shorter, coarser ones, the flax was pulled through a bed of nails or combed in a process called "towing." The shorter fibers that were extricated were of a lesser quality and were called "tow." This led to the term "towheads" to describe people, particularly children, whose hair resembled these strands.
Our favorite online dictionary, MerriamWebster.com, provided further support and evidence for this explanation. The definition for towhead reads:
Main Entry: tow�head
Pronunciation: 'tO-"hed
Function: noun
Date: 1829
a head of hair resembling tow especially in being flaxen or tousled; also: a person having such a head of hair

The dictionary dates "tow" to the 14th century and states that its origin is "Middle English, from Old English tow-spinning."
So, now we know....

What's in a Name?

Okay, so maybe it could be argued that I'm taking this blogging thing a little too seriously... I mean, starting two blogs at one time (when I can't even manage to create a facebook page) is probably showing a bit more confidence in my writing prowess than necessary.  Even without posting more than once on each blog, I have found the process intriguing.  So many decisions to make - choosing a template, a background, choosing a name, a general topic, etc. is all mind-numbing in its detail.  Speaking of names, the Blondemonium thing came to me as I was searching the brain for something other than "Tami Romani's Blog" or "Tami Talks" ...snore...  Not that Blondemonium is all that clever, but I felt it gave me lots of leeway in the direction I might go -- which, if I base this blog on the random narratives I produce in my brain everyday, is going to be necessary.   So, since I receive blonde jokes by the byteload in my inbox, I thought, why fight it?  I thought about "Blondelicious", but since I don't consider myself to be "'licious" in anything, and really don't want the family jokes and snickering that would arise from being so, um, "'licious" I dropped that one.  Then there was "Blonde Ambition" which could play on my whole new ambition of needing to find a job and/or increase my voice over business in order to keep my son in college - until I found out that's a movie title from 2007 starring none other than Jessica Simpson!  Um, NO.  So, thinking I had made up a new word, I googled "Blondemonium" and found a copy of Billboard from December 17, 1949 where the writer of an article about the Broadway opening of "Gentlemen Prefer Blondes" used it to describe Carol Channing's performance.  Really!  Take a look here.  Is the internet great, or what?  Anyway, seriously, no one has used that made up word since then?  Hard to believe ~ maybe it was just meant to be....  Now, as for the blonde thing, yes, I am - have always been, and will always be, thank you very much -- but no, it's not quite natural (any more).  As a kid, I was so blonde, I was called a "toe head" (note to self:  google "toe head" sometime to find the origins of that crazy term).  Now, my roots indicate something along the lines of dirty blonde or ash blonde, with a bit o' gray sprinkled about.  Come on, who wants to have a hair color with "dirty" or "ash" in the name?  Not me.

Fear not, those of you who have threatened to create a facebook page for me if I don't do it soon (and you know who you are), I think that could be my next big adventure!

I love this little illustration  -  me thinks this lovely blonde is a bit intimidated by her glowing computer screen.... I don't seem to have that problem....