Sunday, April 22, 2007

Did I Really

say "I'll be riding tonight" yesterday? I did, of course, and upon re-reading it, I am stunned that I wrote something so very absurd. How ridiculous. I was channeling a college guy in Arizona, maybe, or just writing something that would look embarrassing later. I am purposely not deleting because it is so ridiculous and I can be a doofus and demonstrate that it is okay to appear foolish and live to write about it.

Back when I wrote that, I looked like a regular forty-ish gal. Now, on Chrystal's advice, I look like a punk wannabe and it does not work. My hair color was too light, she said. Make it darker, like your natural color, she said. Use this and that crap from the store she said. And after an apparent channeling of Lucille Ball on one of her most hysterical days, I neglected to read the side panel and I ended up with purple hair. No, I am not exaggerating. Both children laughed. Even I laughed. I washed and washed and washed it. I thought it was better, but yet another friend said to put brown over it. I did that, too - this is all month-long color, nothing too damaging - and now I look even more witchy. Fair skin , dark hair, circles under my eyes even more visible. I'm already rehearsing the easy laugh for tomorrow when I return to work looking like I had a mid-life goth crisis.

I told Rugelah: "This is what vanity gets you." At the time her face was contorting this way and that, in an attempt to express her thoughts about the red stain in my hair.
"But you're not vain," she answered.
"I'm vain enough to color my hair," I told her.

I look like an ass, or rather, a dumbass. It's a bit Ronald Reagan, with my wrinkles and other skin flaws more pronounced. Who knows what tomorrow will bring? I may need to visit a salon so I can be presentable again. Or maybe my hair will be a family science experiment. What exactly does nutmeg to auburn to light brown highlights actually look like? I wish I could see that I am embracing the very idea of looking foolish and managing it, but it was much easier when I was using lame language on my blog. Looking stupid, now that's harsh. Did I really? Yes, I did. Gimme a broomstick, pierce my tongue, my cheek, my brow, I'm ready to ride.

2 comments:

  1. Oh no, not the purple hair, Mom. You know, for me it's that whole grey hair thing that pisses me off. I blame me ex-husband. My grey mysteriously started appearing at age 27 right at the same time he started cavorting in greener pastures. (I'm sorry, was that TWENTYFREAKINSEVEN? Yes, as a matter of fact, I was in the prime of life. Grey!) OK, it wasn't much, a hair here, a hair there, but damn, at 27? I made it to about 34 before I reached for the color box.

    Turned my hair to straw. Took my new hairdresser a year to get it back to rights. She was a goddess. But, that being in Hungary, she also liked the idea of my hair being burgundy or purplish, so we had to go 'round about that. "But brown is not so exciting, Americans do not embrace the possibilities of the color!"

    Anyway, now I'm back, and can not afford to get my hair cut AND colored in this country, so it's back to the box. A better box. Jeez, I don't WANT to color my hair, I am just not ready to look like my friggin' GRANDMA!

    I'd take Goth over Grandma any day. I mean, even whilst your kids are a-laughing, they've got to admit Goth trumps Granny.

    You go, Goth-Girl! That's how you roll.

    ReplyDelete
  2. Wow, I would love to see this.

    ReplyDelete