Weird Science

I have a strange addiction to at-home chemistry.

Last weekend I finally broke down and decided that I couldn’t stand the sight of my dirty dishwater blonde roots and I bought this:


I knew that I was taking a huge risk. I swore off box dye a long time ago and I have been hitting the salon every three months for years. I have had way too many bad home hair color experiences.

But this time I just couldn’t wait until I had the extra money or time for a salon visit and with the way that I have been feeling lately, I knew that my stomach would not endure four hours in a hairdresser’s chair.

So, I convinced myself that I could do this and get it to come out right for a change. I’m a smart girl and it is just a matter of finding the right color. Right?

Oh, no. It’s not that easy.

Like Frenchie, I am a beauty-school dropout.

I picked out a box of blonde color instead of choosing straight-up hair bleach, because I was afraid that the bleach would wreak havoc on my poor baby-fine locks.

I forgot, however, that my stylist always uses bleach when she highlights my hair so I will get a pretty platinum shade, not a yellow-brass one.

Stupid me.

I turned my hair a lovely shade of Lisa Simpson yellow.

I figured that I would get it wrong though, so when I bought the box of color I also bought a bleach highlighting kit.

I started trying to highlight, but I gave that crap up pretty quick and just put the highlighting bleach all over like a dye.

It helped, a little.

So, the next day I went back to the store and bought the one box of bleach that I should have bought in the beginning. Turns out, it didn’t wreck my hair and it changed my color to the correct shade of blonde. Holly Madison Blonde.

Woo-hoo. Now if only I could get fake boobs and a job in Vegas.

And if you think three boxes of hair color is crazy, you should know that I like anything that turns my bathroom into an makeshift science lab.


This was the aftermath of the “Am I Really Pregnant?” experiment that I conducted last month.

Obviously, I have some sort of problem.

And this is why I keep debating about whether or not I should buy one of those IntelliGender kits.

IntelliGender-new-box-Image-on-whiteYep. It’s an at-home test that allegedly can predict what your unborn child’s sex is just by mixing your urine with whatever is in the box.

At best, I am a skeptic. At worst, I think this may be just a box of bogus.

But I am still so intrigued.

And I would really like to know if I am finally getting my dos equis.

It’s just that I really don’t know if I want to spend thirty bucks on something that sounds like it’s based on nothing but junk science. The company doesn’t really explain how the test is able to do what it says it does, claiming that they can’t divulge specific details because of the product’s patent-pending status.

Sounds like a load of b.s. to me.

Plus, I can just wait and find out for sure when we get our 20 week ultrasound.  I’d have to wait until then to find out if the IntelliGender test worked anyway. Using that logic alone makes the whole idea seem like a waste of time, money and emotion.

Still, it would be fun to have another chemistry experiment in my bathroom…and it did work on The Doctors.

I know that handsome fox, Travis Stork, would not steer me wrong.

I think I’ll be on the fence about this for awhile.

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