Thursday, October 15, 2009

my dumb yellow hair

My hair. As much as I don't care most of the time, every now and then I get obsessed.

I seek solace in the form of hair dye. I was drastic at 18, fire engine red, peroxide blond. Over the years I have gotten less drastic, more sort of natural although I never cared about that. I do the coloring myself not because I am a genius colorist, not at all, but because I can't sit still for the 3 hours it takes to have my hair colored anywhere but home. That and I hate to pay a lot for my hair. BUT this last escapade has me almost surrendered.

Yesterday, after dropping H of at school, at 8 am, not the best time to ponder ones hair color, I went into the drugstore and came out with something called bleach blond the lightest you can go good luck with that or something along those lines. After submitting my hair to the abuse of this product, I saw it starting to turn yellow. Like a gold finch. It is the classic bad dye job, and the worst in all my many years of messing around with hair color.

I panicked, called my sister. I thought about not taking S to her gymnastics class. Then I posted my picture on facebook and said to hell with it. I am going to own this bad dye job.

After parading about town with my yellow head and receiving some compliments and some eye aversions- I became obsessed with getting this yellow, this brassiness, out of my hair. To stop looking like Johnny Rotten.

I consulted my sister, the most professional un professional colorist I know. She told me what to get. I couldn't find it at the drugstore and there are no reasonable beauty supply stores close enough to me- so I went to the fancy expensive salon attached one that is close. I checked their website, they had my coveted product, it was reasonably priced.

When I got there, dragging along S, in the rain, the self important guy who worked there (and who was bald. What does he know from hair?) sold me on their version of what I was looking for. I didn't ask how much it was- but quickly learned it was more than I would have paid had I been in my right mind and not my obsessed mind.

The moral of this story- if I had just gone to get my hair done at a salon, it would have taken less time AND less money. And it would probably look better too.

But it's all about the journey, right?

And now on to more important things.