Instant gratification

I was born with peach colored fuzz. As I grew up, I learned that my particular hair color is called "strawberry blonde." To a kid, it's simply RED. And having red hair as a kid is a very bad thing indeed. It makes you different. Other kids call you "red," "carrot top," etc. And adults! Everywhere we went some well-meaning adult would feel the need to point out what I was already painfully aware of. Did they really think they were the first ones to ask, "Where'd you get that red hair?" Argh. And so my hair color insecurity was born.

I begged my mother probably a hundred times to let me dye it or highlight it - anything to get rid of the red. I was never allowed to....

As an adult I was afraid to change it. Because I had never been allowed to experiment, I was deathly afraid of what would happen, how I would look, how to pick the right color, etc. And so I did nothing. Until about two years ago. I started to feel that I needed a change. I opted for highlights.

I liked it. It was great. Subtle, but different. And of course I wanted more. MORE, MORE, MORE. Make me a blonde, I said. And he did. And then he took my $150 and said he'd see me in 4-6 weeks.

Honestly, I'm far too low maintenance to need all that maintenance! I never got touchups on time, so I have been walking around with darker roots showing for forever. Who really has that kind of time and money to keep up with blonde highlights?? (Aside from 95% of the mothers at my kids' school, that is...)

As I sat and pondered the sheer awfulness of my hair on Monday, I decided to have it dyed my natural color. I called the salon across the street and they could take me THAT afternoon. Woo! I'd have no more roots and I'd be back to the ole me in no time. I even took along a photo which clearly showed my natural haircolor.

After discussing the color and looking at several, the colorist talked me into going a color that was (to me) obviously darker than my natural color. I loved her to death - very sweet - very young - talkative as hell. Several times she mentioned that the color was "beautiful" and that it was "probably richer than you're used to," which should have sent up enormous red flags. But I was there. In the chair. Being worked on. And it felt good.

The rinse and blow dry went well. I could tell that it was indeed darker than my natural color, which disappointed me. I didn't WANT darker. I wanted ME. Everyone in the place ooed and ahhed about the color. I was told it was so gorgeous, brought out my eyes, etc. etc.

I got home and casually walked into the well-lit kitchen to start dinner and see what husband would say. I saw the shock in his eyes. "It's so red," he said. "Wow! It's red..." he repeated, with an uncomfortable laugh. That just was not the appropriate response, and I ran out in tears. Once in my brightly lit bathroom, I inspected it closely. I cried harder. Yes indeedy it was red. But not MY red. It was more of a purple-red.

I went to work with my head bowed and my hair pulled into a tight ponytail, with hopes that few people would notice. I immediately called the salon and made an appointment for her to "fix" my color, blaming my husband, "My husband hates my hair," I said. Didn't mention that I hated my hair...Couldn't see me till Friday. FRIDAY! Ohmigod. I immediately began to research (google). "red is too red;" "salon screwup;" etc. And I found a product called Colorfix.

*You'll want to write this down, ladies.*

The product removes all permanent haircolor. For me that meant all the red (purple), and 2 years worth of blonde highlights. I was so nervous. So was husband. He paced downstairs and tried to come up several times. I had to ask him to please stop hovering and let me be for a bit.

I emerged as myself. The strawberry blonde (MY red) was back. Phew.

And so the next time I get a wild hair up my ass and want instant gratification, I will hopefully remember this lesson I learned. And if that doesn't work, I still have half of the Colorfix left.

I've got a meetin' the ladies' room
I'll be back real soon
Uh-oh, uh-uh-oh
I've got a meetin' the ladies' room
I'll be back real soon
Uh-oh, uh-uh-oh

I've got a meetin' in the ladies' room
(Get yourself some business, baby)
I'll be back real soon
(And leave my man alone)
I've got a meetin' in the ladies' room

Meeting In The Ladies Room - Klymaxx