I'm in love with Ch-ch-ch-chi(a)

I got a new thingy in the mail yesterday. It's a CH.I flatiron. It has changed my life. My hairdresser used it on me about a week ago when I got a new cut and color and oh my gawd I was a changed woman. It was not soccer-mom me(without the soccer or the mom part), but some sleek, coiffed, bad-assed babelicious. I tried recreating the moment with my old flat iron, but it did NOT work. At all. Convinced that I needed the exact recipe my stylist used, I when on a spending spree: new iron, new conditioner, new styling creme. Big B nearly had a heart attack - "I thought we were on a budget lockdown!" Whaaaa. Maybe for him. But not for me and my self-indulgent and self-gratifying needs!

It really did make a difference. Even the cutie-patootie (very young) graphic designer in my office commented on how "awesome" my hair looked. So...worth every penny in my book. What I didn't know when buying the thing, was that there were choices.


You could choose the camo-in-pink option:

Or the designer bag option:

I went for the plain ol' version. I am fairly mesmerized by it, though. It makes my hair feel super soft and not all rosanna-anna-danna. I could easily see myself morphing into "one of those girls" who totes the thing to work with her for a little afternoon delight of mid-day flattening.

And, just for the record... got my beta back. 200. It's a positive. The night before I had the worst cramps. I just knew AF would be banging on my door any second. But we POAS anyway. My jaw dropped about two feet when the second line came up almost immediately. Crazy.