A hairrowing tale of lies and deceptions

If you don’t like reading, allow me to save you the trouble. Don’t buy Revlon’s Colorsilk hair dye. Don’t do it. Don’t stop in the aisle to look at the color choices. Just say no.

Now you can skip the rest of this post.

For everyone else, the saga begins. This is me, pre-dye. I decided that my hair is getting scraggly and also that I look a bit like a homeschooling mother of seven. (Which I may, in fact, one day be. At which time, I will attempt to recreate this hairstyle to a tee. and I may also visit ladiesagainstfeminism.com. except not really.)

I’M SO SORRY FOR THESE PICTURES THAT EVER EXISTED. THEY ARE NOW REMOVED BECAUSE SERIOUSLY, WHAT WAS I THINKING?!

Background information on how we got to this point. Throughout highschool, I frequently colored my hair blonder using Feria. I liked it. Then I graduated and experimented with the short hair, exciting colors. At various stages I was purple, cherry red, black, maroon, and then a bizarre combo of natural blond fading into bleach blond fading into orange. (When I attempted to bleach out the black) Observe:

(unfortunately, I couldn’t find any of the purple hair pictures – it only lasted about a week)

I recently got married, and I, like many others, wanted my hair to be long and luxurious and my natural color for the wedding. You know, natural beauty and blah blah blah. While it was long (at least by my standards) and completely my natural color (used much much restraint here) luxurious is a word that will never really be applied to my hair. I see that now. It did put in a good showing at the wedding:

*wedding hair, looking as though it exists simply to look pretty. naturally.

After the wedding, I felt so sentimental about it actually being my hair, that I didn’t want to cut it. What the hell? I’ve never been one of those girls. I used to laugh at people who were afraid to cut or change their hair. It’s just hair was my mantra. A new style or color gives you a fresh start, a new lease on life. So why did it take me 11 months after the wedding to actually do it? I blame Nicole Kidman, and Jennifer Lopez and Faith Hill and hell, even Taylor Hanson, and everyone else who makes having long hair look glamorous and easy and luxurious.

So I’m finally fed up, and ready for a change and I decide I want to look like this:

Hot right? Although it’s likely a wig. Nonetheless this is the color I’m going for. This is the color on the box. It looks good on Uma and one time a table told me I looked like her, and seriously, it was the one time they could have actually not left any tip at all and they still would have been my favorite table that day. I heart Uma. I was originally just going to do the color but after blowdrying my long-now yellow-hair, I decided it needed to be cut too. and hell, why not stick with the same photo.

ok. this is what happened. Day one, after rinsing out and attempting to style.

I look like I’m wearing a wig and oh, how I wish I was.
Smell-o-factor: like Sweet Honesty and cigarette butts, honestly, my cat won’t let me near him because he thinks I’m a different person.

Day two, after 1 shower x 2 shampoos:

Eyeing my hair with distrust.
Smell-o-factor: down to a 7 out of 10. starting to fade.
Day three, 2 showers x 2 shampoos:

Actually, not so bad. kind of cute.. if you’re into that sort of thing.
Smell-o-factor: almost gone, still detectable, but barely.

Day four, 3 showers, but only one shampoo this time because I got distracted. (Patrick, just because I thought it would be funny to give you a hitler mustache with mascara and it supposedly got in your mouth, it is still NOT ok to spit on the shower floor without warning me when my feet are there! uh… hypothetically, I mean.)

Let’s compare:

Ok, so the color on the box matches Uma’s hair better than mine, and her haircut looks like it may have been done by a professional… but I so totally could be her kid sister. and it doesn’t matter what you think, because we could so totally kick your ass.