Episode of blonde

OK, ladies, Aunty Kath who objects to the term ladies even though it is ironic, and Dan. I am having a truly, truly rotten week with my Situation, and also I have sprained my finger pole dancing (I do a routine!) and it has swollen up. And I don’t want to alarm anyone, but there was talk last night of some students possibly doing ‘a bit of a routine’ at the carnival next year, although as it stands all everyone would hear would be the squeak of my inner thighs sliding down the pole and that is not elegant. I need your advice. But first, in the spirit of sharing things that do not go well, as well as things that do, I am going to show you my first portrait in oils, completed today. It is unspeakable. Let this be an inspiration to all future portrait painters that when your first portrait in oils looks like Mr Potato Head you should not necessarily just give up and put all your paints in the bin, because I am sure my next one will be better.

Oh good Lord. Perhaps I should start with less complex living things, perhaps those guinea pigs who are hairy and look the same at both ends

You see peppers, I could do. People, they are more complicated (this is based on a Rembrandt sketch but you wouldn’t know it!). When we lined them all up at the end you have never seen such a rogue’s gallery. We could not discuss the finer points of the brushwork because we were laughing so hard, gosh they were terrible. The words ‘Colonel Gadaffi’ may have been spoken about mine but that is a rumour I will not confirm. I was not going to go to art class because I was quite miserable about my situation, but the tarot cards (I know I sound mad. I’m actually quite nice) were quite definite that I should, and they were right, because all we did was laugh and it was cheering. Also I learned a lot, so it was worth creating something a bit daft. Painting, u r difficult (a bit).

OK. Now here’s the bit I want your advice on. This is a recent picture of me, and my hair is still like this pretty much:

Happy! Terrible Rembrandt Homages still unthought of!

Now I want to go peroxide blonde. I have made an appointment for next week, I have had a consultation and the hairdresser says it will look ‘very cool’. I want to go blonde like this:

I know what this model would say to anyone who tried to put her in a situation like mine. She would say, stick your malicious vexatious lawsuit right up your bum. Can you look as good as me in red lipstick? Thought not

And although I don’t look like this model obvs, I promise if I had peroxide blonde hair I would sort out my eyebrows so I don’t look like Alastair Darling, and I will wear eye makeup (occasionally) so that it looks cool. In other words, I will dress it up. It will look fine. Won’t it? What do you think? Peroxide blonde or die (dye) and have a change and a new lease of life, or stay mousy and a bit fed up? (This isn’t a response to the miserable situation – I had rung the hairdresser before things got bad). I don’t want highlights, and I don’t want to look subtle – I want peroxide blonde or nothing. I want to look like Blondie! I want a new image! Tell me this isn’t a mistake! Partner is just about on the verge of locking me in the cupboard to stop any attempts at self-definition, because his taste in female adornment frankly makes the Amish look a bit racy, but I am fine. Because none of cupboards have locks and TBH since all the rain most of them don’t shut properly.

What do you think?