Wednesday, December 07, 2005
The Hair Saga
So, as many of you know, I have had hair issues recently. Brought entirely on myself by myself. I suck sometimes. Since many of you know this already, you may wonder why I am blogging about it. Well, for several reasons. One, you may have missed some of the details. Two, I never want to repeat the experiences that I am about to chronicle, so it will serve as a written reminder to me. And three, when I have children, I want to be able to point to a concrete reason why they should do as I say and not as I do.
The issues started on October 31, 2005. Now many of you are already clued in to the fact that NO major changes should occur on Halloween, especially for me. I highly enjoy Halloween, and it makes me kooky like many other people. (Although, my excuse is Halloween, what would their's be?)
So anyway, I have had a hair girl for 2 years now, and she is rock-solid fabulous. She makes my hair sing and dance and float on cloud nine. But for some reason, I decided I couldn't afford her anymore. I have since figured out that I need her almost as much as I need oxygen for life sustenance.
So I trotted my happy little self to Target, and started a series of hate crimes against my hair. My first offense started with a box of RED dye, and after applying it, discovering that my highlights had turned Kool-Aid red was a source of depression for me. My first inkling that things had gone terribly wrong was when I was in the shower rinsing the dye out. I happened to turn around and look at the wall. It looked like I had been murdered. There was red spattered all over the walls, the tub, and it was running down the drain. It was a shade of red that was diconcertingly close to the color of blood. I still get shivers when I remember that.
A few days later I found myself in Orlando, trying to put a brave face on things. I knew I wasn't going to last 4-6 weeks with this crazy hair color. So after get some mangled spanglish advice from a random salon worker, I headed to the drug-store to try to fix it. I was told that as long as I went for a product without peroxide, I would be fine. I had my co-worker dye my hair for me this time, because as it turns out, I am not so great at doing it myself. When I pulled my hair into a ponytail, you could see blond fringe all the way around my head. Plus I missed a HUGE spot in the back of my head, so I ended up having striped hair in shades of crazy red, Kool-Aid red, and my good old blonde.
The second round of dye helped calm things down a bit, and gave my hair a more brown undertone. It was a huge improvement. It only lasted for about a week.
My 3rd crime happened exactly 17 days after the 1st crime was committed. I called the free consultation hotline that is offered for patients, I mean, clients of the boxed hair dye. I was literally on the phone with my consultation specialist for half an hour. She was super stressed about what I had done to my hair, and I left out the part about dying it a second time. I figured telling her would lead to a heart attack for her, something I do not want to be responsible for. So she pointed me in the direction of another box of dye, this time straight brown. So once again, I happily trot to Target and purchase said box of dye.
This round produced a color that I was actually pleased with, but once again only lasted a week. I was once again stuck with my V-8 red hair. Oh, and I undertook dying it myself again, but this time I was a lot more careful and managed to produce an even, and all over, color. And the highlights weren't an issue after the second round of dye.
This last Friday, I had had ENOUGH! My hair situation was way worse than the movie Enough, my measuring stick for how bad things are. When I have reached that point, it is definitely time for a change. So I call my hair girl almost in tears. She asked me what I had done. She said she knew that tone of voice. I confessed to dying my hair(once), red with a box. She laughed and said she could fit me in the next day. I truly love her. If I had met her before hubby, I would probably have married her.
So the next day, we played ask me no questions and I'll tell you no lies. She dyed my hair a very lovely shade of dark brown. It still has an undertone of red, which she assures me will come out the next time. She also made fun of me mercilessly for using a box on my hair. I let her. It was a small price to pay for pretty hair again, and I deserved the heckling. And my hair forgave me too, because it decided not to take on too much damage after all the crap I had done to it.
I learned my lesson! Do not be cheap with my hair. Just save the money so my hair girl can work her magic on it.
And my hair lived happily ever after.
1 Comments:
I am duly chastized for having thought of going red on my own recently. I was scared because of other horror stories I've heard before, but now I am determined to wait until I can hire a salon professional to color my hair red. Also until I can pay to keep it up meticulously.
So basically I'll never be a redhead in this lifetime.
But at least I won't be a thrice-dyed and miserable redhead either.
Glad to see your hair is rockin now! :-D
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