Thursday, February 18, 2010

Does she or doesn`t she?

posted Mon, 15 Aug 2005

Apparently, Clairol Natural Instincts #22 Cinaberry Medium Auburn Brown is the shade of red that is red enough that people will notice that my hair has changed color.

Last year, I dyed my hair red and no one noticed. My hairdresser said she wanted everyone to notice me and not my hair, but my feeling is that if I am going to spend $100 for someone to do something to my hair (these are not big-city prices – multiply by three if you live someplace with a population greater than one million), then by golly, everyone better notice the hair.

My shower looked like someone had been murdered in it. Well, it had looked like that for a brief moment until I had washed the walls down. A little bit of hair dye goes a long way on white tile.

And me, of course.

So this Saturday morning, when I awoke at 6:00 a.m. against my will, jet-lagged and tired and wanting to return to sleep but oh, no, I couldn’t because the sun was up and my farmer’s genes won’t let me sleep once the sun is in the sky because there is work to be done – cows to be milked, fields to be plowed, hay to be baled. Actually, once the sun is up, the cows should already have been milked so I am already behind. I should be ashamed of my lazy self.

No way was I able to fall back asleep. Genetically impossible, although my brother has managed to overcome his heritage. He can sleep until noon. Maybe he uses drugs. I don’t know.

Anyhow, I was so tired. I had stayed up late the past couple up nights seeing and wondering about Gomez, whom I am still not sure about. Was he setting me up in some elaborate joke or is he serious? He said he wants to visit me in M’town – that he can’t wait to see me again – that he wants me to meet him in Montreal on his next trip home from China. He took me to the airport and waited until I had to go into the gate. Said all sorts of nice things in French and kept his hands to himself after I made it clear that I was not going to be one of his floozies. Claimed he really liked me. So what’s the deal? I don’t know. We’ll see. If nothing else, I had a great time with him while I was in Morocco.

The point is, Saturday morning, I was not thinking clearly. So what did I do? I decided to color my hair! Yes! Appearance-changing decisions should always be made on no sleep and on an empty stomach!

Off to Walgreen’s I went for the necessary supplies. An hour later, I was a bonafide redhead.

This time, people have noticed. As in men. The people who usually don’t notice changes to hair. Remember, I have been gone for two weeks. They should barely remember my name, much less the color of my hair. I walked into work this morning and a colleague (a guy) said, “Your hair is red!” That was pretty much the reaction I got all day. Fortunately, it has been followed with, “I like it!”

This is good, because it distracts them from the bad haircut I gave myself before I left on vacation. That won’t get fixed until next week when I have my next appointment with Geri – and I have to explain why my hair is in such bad shape. Maybe I’ll put her on the defensive by saying I told her it wasn’t short enough after she cut it last time.

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