Thursday, January 19, 2012

My Head Feels Like A Dead Squid

I shall attempt to explain. I'm dyeing my hair. This is not nearly the first time I've done this, although I've only been dyeing my hair for fun for a few years now. I was, for the most part, a hair dye virgin for most of my life. I did do highlights a couple times in junior high and high school, and once or twice after that, but I didn't do a full on dye job to a different color until about two years ago.

My natural hair color is kind of a really dark blonde/light brown color. Since I highlighted it when I was a teenager, it looked golden/dark blonde. Which worked out great, because I truly am a walking blonde moment. My sister actually calls me that, and I have an MSN Messenger emoticon specifically used for blonde moments, too.

I love being blonde. That's me all over, my personality and everything. But after I had Sammy and had been married a few years, I started wondering what I'd look like as a brunette. My sister-in-law was a Mary Kay consultant at the time, so we played around on the virtual makeover site all the time and I played with hair colors. And on the computer at least, I looked good with dark brown hair.

So I was talked into it, but instead of going way dark, I went with a medium chocolate brown hair color. And my hair takes a dye really well, so it turned out great. And it was even a few shades lighter than the picture, which worked out fine, since it was my first foray into the dyeing world.

That opened the way for me. Next I went red. And we're talking fake fakedy fake bright red hair that looked truly awful on me, but it was a hoot anyway. I did it for the Fourth of July, and went swimming the day after I did it, so a good deal of the dye faded out in my day in the chlorinated pool. Which was ok, since we went from a truly garish shade of bright coppery red to a more muted copper blonde color.

Going blonde next was probably not my best idea . . . I'm sure you can imagine. Orangey strawberry blonde anyone? Oh yeah. But at least that one looked better than my bright red attempt. And it faded out a bit and looked decent.

Next was another shot at blonde, which went just fine, and that brings us up to tonight. Now, it's been at least six or seven months since I dyed my hair, and tonight I took my two boxes of champagne blonde Revlon dye to my brother and sister-in-law's. Aside from making my brother a pretty darn awesome t-shirt to wear to work for the midnight release of the new Twilight movie (Team Van Helsing, we're Twilight haters), I got my sister-in-law to dye my hair for me.

And so, after a good half hour or so of gooping up and trying to untangle my hair when it was roughly the consistency of hair covered in half-dry glue, I was pronounced done. So I wrapped my head up in a plastic bag, and I was totally rocking the I Love Lucy bandana look. Hard to imagine, I'm sure, but trust me. I was a fat Lucy.

I had twisted my hair up and smooshed it down on my skull, and since it was basically like chilling Jello, it stuck really well. And since my gooey hair was kind of in gushy dreadlocks, it felt like I had a cold, dead squid on my head that kept dropping tentacles down over my face. It made for some pretty hysterical giggling on my part, and I finally got all the tentacles tucked up nicely and secured inside the plastic bag.

And now, I'm fresh from the shower smelling strongly of the special dye treatment conditioner that came in the boxes of dye, and the jury is still out on results. My roots look strawberry blonde and my ends look maybe a few shades lighter than they were before, so I guess only morning will tell. And when I emerge from my little bed cocoon with my dry hair twirling out of control in Roman-esque curls, we'll have to see what color of the rainbow I'm sporting.

Anyone want to take a bet?

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