Getting the Warm Fuzzies?

     Today, I planned to go to a friend's house for lunch, a movie, and some catching up.  So, I started getting ready.  These pink and purple highlights that are in my hair are really cool, but, they require some special treatment to keep them from fading.  I have to wash my hair with a conditioning cleanser - NOT shampoo, and I have to wash it in water as cold as I can stand.  I also need to wash my hair in the kitchen sink because the color will stain the bathtub as it begins to come out - it is only a semi-permanent dye.  Soooo... I was standing in front of the sink, setting the water to the requisite 33 degrees (didn't want it to freeze in the faucet), when I turned to say something to the dog. Yes, I do talk to my dog, and, yes, he does understand me.  Anyway, I wasn't looking, and I accidentally grabbed the sink sprayer by the handle and shot myself in my upper lady area with a blast of liquid ice.  (If you laughed at that, beware the kitchen witch; she'll get you, too!)  Did I tell you about learning my limits at the tanning salon?  No? Well, I learned a day or so ago that my limit is fifteen minutes.  Twenty minutes turns some of my lady bits to the color of flaming lava, and, strangely, a "fake" sunburn feels exactly like a "real" sunburn.  But back to the story at hand... The icy water colliding with the desert heat of the sunburn created a burst of steam that turned into a cloud around my head.  Having the wind knocked out of me from the cold and being temporarily blinded by steam, I took a step backwards and stepped on the tip of the cat's tail.  Mr. Feline Dramaticus took off yowling like a red-butted baboon with a case of hemorrhoids and knocked me off balance. Whereupon, I fell into the oven, which happened to be turned on and hot because, like the good friend I am, I was baking a chocolate soufflé to take to my friend's house.  When I hit the oven, the soufflé fell and was ruined. 
     Dang it!  I knew I was going to go too far.  It was the sunburn you didn't believe, wasn't it?  Well, the entire story was true, except for the soufflé. Who am I, Martha Stewart?  I mean, I can cook, but I would not attempt to carry a soufflé in the car.  Sure, that's why I didn't make one.  I'm not completely uncivilized, though. I wouldn't show up at someone's house empty-handed. I stopped at Sheetz and got a frozen latte for her.  I also didn't fall, but I did step on the cat's tail, and anyone who knows Colby knows that he tends to overreact. What?  You don't believe that I can tell what my cat is thinking either?  I have watched Cesar Millan, ya know?  Jeesh, it's not that hard to be a dog, or cat, whisperer.  I looked up everything he does on Youtube, and it has to be true because it's on the internet.  Oh yeah, I'm also dating a French model. 
     But, dating is a story for another entry...