Well, I think I have officially commenced my mid-life crisis. I went to Talk Me Down Tuesday this week and then on Wednesday, I went to get my hair done. It seems like a basic thing to get one's hair done, but that is for normal people, not me. Every appointment is its own adventure. I go in, I think I know what I want to do and then my stylist, Giraffe Stalker, says those innocent words, "So, what are we thinking?" And I tell her, "Well, I don't know, I think I want to grow it out..." or "I can't take it anymore, I look like I have Minion Mom hair and I can't take it anymore, cut it off!" And she will say, "I thought we were growing it out?" And then I say, "I want to, but I look ridiculous. I don't want to look ridiculous. Do you think I should grow it out? I mean, do you think I look better with long hair anyway? I mean, what's the point? You know what? I don't care, cut it off." She reluctantly agrees knowing that the very next time I come in, we will repeat this conversation. Now, it's time to talk about the color. Giraffe Stalker says, "So, are we just going to brighten it up a bit with some blonde?" Yes, let's keep it blonde and let's brighten it up. The color is typically the easy part.
This appointment did not stray from the usual conversation. I said, "Okay, I'm growing it out, this time I mean it, fer reals...unless you think I shouldn't. I mean, I want to, but what is our exit strategy for this style? I mean, it's so short now, can I do this and not lose my mind and look hideous?" Giraffe Stalker assures me we can do this, we just need to grow this part out, keep that part short until the other part gets a little longer and it can be done. Seems reasonable. I said, "Well, what if we did something fun with the color so that I was distracted by the color and not by the fact that I look like a homeless person that just crawled out of a dumpster?" We discussed adding low-lights, we discussed adding a little flair underneath and then somehow magazines came into play and we were looking at pictures to find just the right color for the underneath shade.
And then it happened. I didn't mean for it to happen, I don't know where the voice came from. I don't know which pony voice was juicing up in my head, but I said, "See this color? I've always wanted to try this color...all over. Do you think I could pull that off?" Giraffe Stalker said, "Yes, I think you could. However, if you really want to do that, you can't just go back to blonde if you don't like it, because if we do, we will fry it...so, you would have to commit...for a while...do you think you can do that?" I sat there, giddy inside. The pony voices in my head formed a committee and then a sub-committee and then the one that was likely the ring leader of this whole thing pushed her way to the front and said, "Yes!..I mean, I'm scared, but should I dare? OMG, I want to....but what if I hate it...?" Giraffe Stalker waited patiently as I verbally and mentally processed the decision. It was just another moment and all the committees finally reached a decision. The verdict was read and my voice repeated, "Fuck it, let's do it! I've been blonde my entire life, I want to try it!" I could hear the one scared pony voice in the back of my head. She was in the back room shaking and weeping, "this is a mistake, you're a blonde, you're going to hate it, then what are we going to do???" The other pony voices left her and went to celebrate with cake.
I sat there in the chair as my transformation took place. It just so happened Giraffe Stalker had her lap top open next to her work station and we were streaming that giraffe named April back East that is supposed to have a baby any day now. How ironic, as I waited for that giraffe to pop out a new life, here I was, going rogue. Going against every rational thought. Why was I doing this? Why did I want to be a Ginger? Why did I want to depart from who I am inside, which is a sunny, bright, blonde girl? I mean, the sunny and bright part is an over-dramatization of my personality, but still, you see where I'm going with this. Was I going to become dark and angry? Wait...wasn't I already? Oh yeah. Okay, well then what in the hell am I worried about, it's just hair? Right?
And so, it happened.
As luck would have it, 99.9% of the friend and acquaintance audience has embraced the change and told me they think I was brave to do it and love it but wondered what prompted it. Was I in the Fitness Protection Program? Had I taken a second job as a stripper? Was I trying to tie-dye all my white towels with pink and red coloring every time I wash and dry my hair? Was I wanting to become more sassy? That one makes me laugh, because, seriously, I've never needed red hair to be sassy. Was I trying to become a ginger and steal souls? Which, come to find out, since I am not a natural ginger, I am unable to steal souls. Very upset about this. The .1% that didn't like it was an older bitter bald guy. He looked at me, scrunched up his face and said, "I don't like it. I like it blonde. I'm sorry." Funny, I hadn't asked for his opinion. I said, "Well, when I decide to change it back to blonde, I'll come straight over to your desk for your approval." Whatever. I didn't do this for approval, I did it for ME.
In the end, the real answer as to why I did it is quite simple. I'm just a woman who is 45 years old realizing that the time to do random shit like this is now. What am I waiting for? Maybe this will be the first of many bold changes in my life. Maybe taking the plunge into doing something as silly, yet bold, as changing my hair color so drastically is just the kick in the ass I need to take plunges in other places. Now, don't look for plunging necklines or plunging butt cracks. No one needs to see that, except Shark Bait and frankly there is no shocking him anymore. But maybe I'll do something else shocking. I don't know. I'm still getting my bearings, it's only been two days. However, I did send a very snippy instant message to Biker Barbie and she wrote back, "Look here, Missy, just because you have red hair now doesn't mean you get to get sassy with me!" Well, apparently I have stepped up my sassy game without even realizing it. Shit, the transformation is happening more quickly and intensely than I had anticipated. Must be in the chemicals in the coloring...I can't be held responsible.
So, there it is, my little blog about my hair color. Not epic, but my abbreviated version of how it all went down. And also, kind of a warning to y'all, I'm feeling a bit bad ass and I think it's time to start acting it again. I've been feeling puny for a while now. But just wait, I'm going to own every part of this damn hair.
More to come...
This appointment did not stray from the usual conversation. I said, "Okay, I'm growing it out, this time I mean it, fer reals...unless you think I shouldn't. I mean, I want to, but what is our exit strategy for this style? I mean, it's so short now, can I do this and not lose my mind and look hideous?" Giraffe Stalker assures me we can do this, we just need to grow this part out, keep that part short until the other part gets a little longer and it can be done. Seems reasonable. I said, "Well, what if we did something fun with the color so that I was distracted by the color and not by the fact that I look like a homeless person that just crawled out of a dumpster?" We discussed adding low-lights, we discussed adding a little flair underneath and then somehow magazines came into play and we were looking at pictures to find just the right color for the underneath shade.
And then it happened. I didn't mean for it to happen, I don't know where the voice came from. I don't know which pony voice was juicing up in my head, but I said, "See this color? I've always wanted to try this color...all over. Do you think I could pull that off?" Giraffe Stalker said, "Yes, I think you could. However, if you really want to do that, you can't just go back to blonde if you don't like it, because if we do, we will fry it...so, you would have to commit...for a while...do you think you can do that?" I sat there, giddy inside. The pony voices in my head formed a committee and then a sub-committee and then the one that was likely the ring leader of this whole thing pushed her way to the front and said, "Yes!..I mean, I'm scared, but should I dare? OMG, I want to....but what if I hate it...?" Giraffe Stalker waited patiently as I verbally and mentally processed the decision. It was just another moment and all the committees finally reached a decision. The verdict was read and my voice repeated, "Fuck it, let's do it! I've been blonde my entire life, I want to try it!" I could hear the one scared pony voice in the back of my head. She was in the back room shaking and weeping, "this is a mistake, you're a blonde, you're going to hate it, then what are we going to do???" The other pony voices left her and went to celebrate with cake.
I sat there in the chair as my transformation took place. It just so happened Giraffe Stalker had her lap top open next to her work station and we were streaming that giraffe named April back East that is supposed to have a baby any day now. How ironic, as I waited for that giraffe to pop out a new life, here I was, going rogue. Going against every rational thought. Why was I doing this? Why did I want to be a Ginger? Why did I want to depart from who I am inside, which is a sunny, bright, blonde girl? I mean, the sunny and bright part is an over-dramatization of my personality, but still, you see where I'm going with this. Was I going to become dark and angry? Wait...wasn't I already? Oh yeah. Okay, well then what in the hell am I worried about, it's just hair? Right?
And so, it happened.
 | ||
| Right after, as soon as I got home. |
 |
| Two days later in different lighting, less freaked out |
In the end, the real answer as to why I did it is quite simple. I'm just a woman who is 45 years old realizing that the time to do random shit like this is now. What am I waiting for? Maybe this will be the first of many bold changes in my life. Maybe taking the plunge into doing something as silly, yet bold, as changing my hair color so drastically is just the kick in the ass I need to take plunges in other places. Now, don't look for plunging necklines or plunging butt cracks. No one needs to see that, except Shark Bait and frankly there is no shocking him anymore. But maybe I'll do something else shocking. I don't know. I'm still getting my bearings, it's only been two days. However, I did send a very snippy instant message to Biker Barbie and she wrote back, "Look here, Missy, just because you have red hair now doesn't mean you get to get sassy with me!" Well, apparently I have stepped up my sassy game without even realizing it. Shit, the transformation is happening more quickly and intensely than I had anticipated. Must be in the chemicals in the coloring...I can't be held responsible.
So, there it is, my little blog about my hair color. Not epic, but my abbreviated version of how it all went down. And also, kind of a warning to y'all, I'm feeling a bit bad ass and I think it's time to start acting it again. I've been feeling puny for a while now. But just wait, I'm going to own every part of this damn hair.
More to come...
 |
| xoxo |
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