Do Blonds REALLY Have More Fun?

It is great to be a blond. With low expectations it's very easy to surprise people.
Pamela Anderson (Canadian Model and Actress)

A few months ago I decided to dye my hair blond. I wanted to see if it's true that blonds really DO have more fun. One thing I've noticed. I've become stupider. I'm sorry if I've offended anyone out there. I'm just saying what's happened to ME. Maybe it's the peroxide. Maybe it's because I'm getting older. Or maybe it's just ME. But I'm living up to a LOT of the DUMB BLOND jokes. And I'm not proud of it. No sir, I'm not.

For instance, today I was blow-drying my hair. I noticed that my bangs were doing some funky number and were bent kind of funny. I thought I'd continue drying my hair with one hand, and STICK MY OTHER HAND UNDER RUNNING WATER so I could wet my bangs and start over. I was just about to turn the water on when my guardian angel, who sounded an awful lot like Cher, I might add, yelled, "SNAP OUT OF IT!!" Uh, hello? Water and electricity DO NOT MIX. Oh, yeah, right. I might have looked something like this. If I was lucky.

They say that variety is the spice of life - so I just keep dying my hair a different color. Throughout my marriage I've been a brunette, a redhead, and now a blond. I remember one time coming home after having my hair streaked with blond highlights. My daughter was probably about 10 at the time. When I walked through the front door she took one look at me and said, "Mom! What did you do to your hair!" Then she ran into the family room and yelled, "Dad! Wait till you see how OLD Mom looks!" I wanted to turn right back around and have the hairdresser dye my hair back to brown!

I truthfully don't think Jim really ever notices WHAT I do to my hair. But other people sure do. So many people have commented on my blond hair. "Hello, Blondie!" They'll call out to me. Or, "Well, look who's blond now!" At that point, I'll turn around and say "Who?" See. I'm telling ya. Blond.

You know how I kid around that I'm Jim's trophy wife? But not the "classic" trophy wife. I'm 11 years younger, but not the "Barbie-doll" shaped wife. So I always tell Jim that I'm his trophy wife, but it's too bad that he won fifth place. It came up in conversation the other day that I have moved up a spot BECAUSE I'M BLOND NOW. Who knew it could be so easy? I could sing "Happy Birthday" to Jim in a breathy Marilyn Monroe way, too, and I bet if I wore that same kind of dress standing over an air vent, I'd move up another notch. Then again, showing my granny panties, maybe not.

Here is my all time favorite blond joke:

A blond gets stopped by a blond cop for speeding. The blond cop approaches the car and says, "License and registration, please."

The blond driver is all befuddled. "Officer," she says, looking through her purse, "I don't know what my license looks like."

The officer says, "It's about this big (gesturing with her hands) and has a picture of yourself on it."

The blond driver continues to search through her purse. She pulls out a mirror and sees herself in it. "Oh, here it is!" She exclaims and hands it over to the blond cop.

The blond cop takes the mirror and looks at it and says, "Why didn't you say you were a cop? I wouldn't have stopped you!"

the new me
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