Being blonde opens up a whole different world than before, when I was a brownish/reddish head. First off, men notice me now. I'm still chubby but for some reason the blonde-ness makes that okay. A nice man at Disneyland told me the fireworks were just for me and then last Friday, a hippie-looking punk at my local gas station made lame small talk about the weather and the weekend (all the while I'm waiting for him to ask for bus fare). He caps off his lame diatribe by asking what I'm doing this weekend ("housework" was my snappy retort) then delivering the big bang -- he'd like to spend time with me this weekend and could he have my number? I squwaked out loud NO! and sped off.

When I told Andrea about this encounter and how he wanted my number, she only said 'why?' That's how un-wise we both are in the ways of being picked up.