Rainy days and mondays always get me down. Okay it was a Thursday but it was raining. I was getting my hair freshly dyed and unfortunately on this day, I got the short end of the stick when attending a hair school: a new girl. I could tell by her unconfident snips and the lengthy fixings by the instructor that she was a fresh face on the floor. After we rinsed out the dye and I sat back down in the chair I tried not to hide the utter shock of red that was now adorning my cranium. She had prepped me, remarking while rinsing "Wow, that's really red...I don't know what happened, I followed the recipe from your file..." Girl's got a while to go. My new look included brown with a HINT of red, I think she got it mixed up--mixing up a batch of red with a hint of brown. Buuummer. After she blow dried it was more browny purple than RED. Oh well, I thought, I'll just be a little extra punky for the next little bit. My biggest worry was Ben: he HATES fake red hair. He handled it surprisingly well though, I think because he knows it doesn't last forever. The first time I dyed I would catch him nervously eyeing my locks in the evening. When I first wrote that sentence, I accidentally wrote "died" as in "the first time I died" which makes me giggle because eyeing my dead-girl locks might be something Ben would do in a state of post-mortem depression. At least it is what I imagine he would be doing in my steam-punk victorian zombie dream. Amirite?
After my hair appointment I could do two things: go home to my lonely house with Ben still out of town, or try to make a day of it and explore some more of the city. To the city! I went back to the Reading Terminal Market, a favorite of the locals and more hipster types that visit Philly. I had gone once before when we FIRST moved here and my grandparents were coming through on their cross country road trip with some friends. My grandparents are the most adventurous seniors I know. The idea of spending a month on the road makes me want to curl up in bed with my laptop and rewatch LOST--just sayin. But anywho, as adventurous as they are, the market was a little too rambunctious and not the right flavor on their whirlwind trip, which had more of a historical slant anyway: we lasted 5 minutes. So I ventured back to really soak in the wonderful noisy foodie squishyness of it all. Sooooo nice. And their were Amish people!! Amish people, people. I sooo badly wanted to take a picture of them but I kept myself respectful. And then looking back through my pictures I realized I accidentally got some in my shot. Whoops. I spent an hour gazing and smelling, smelling and gazing. Piano music serenading the hanging sausages. Lobsters smiling at the red tile floor. The nice, albeit greasy, granola girl gave me directions to the really good Chinese food but I ended up partaking in some very amazing indian cuisine. If you attend the market, please visit Aunt Naneen's--it is so choice. She let me taste all of the dishes before I made my decision on some incredible Chana Masala. What a fantastical place.
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