Going Grey

I just wanted to have grey hair so bad. I mean, it looks amazing on everyone. It is so in right now. And I truly think I could pull grey hair off.

 

So I innocently made an appointment to my local hair salon. All my misadventures start with the best of intentions. How hard was it to get a hair dye?

 

Here is a picture of me before. In case you guys forgot how fantastic my hair is.

 

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I don’t know why I look so emo here

 

I brought a book and some water (which I cannot go anywhere without) and was ready for it to take about 2 hours. That was normal for the intense bleaching and then toning I was looking for. But I was willing to wait and brave chemical burns for my new found sense of style.

 

That first night we bleached my hair. And I wound up looking like Thranduil.

 

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I hate my hot elvish son

 

But my hair refused to lighten enough to go grey. The hair stylist decided to try foiling my hair. The process was fascinating. Not least because she mistakenly thought kitchenware would help where probable cancer causing chemicals did not.

 

But I wound up looking like some sort of gingery blonde. I have to admit. It was pretty cute.

 

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So happy and smiley.

 

But five days later, I returned to her chair with my book. And we bleached it again. My hair did not like the bleaching. But I really did not care. My hair would be tamed.

 

And I wound up looking like Draco Malfoy.

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My father will hear about this!

 

It actually looked pretty cute for a week. But it still was not grey.

 

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Doctor Who in the house!

 

So I went back a third time. I finished my novel. I was reading Gulp by Mary Roach. As an aside here, if Mary Roach is looking for a 31 year old friend that lives in Florida I am available. All her books are amazing, hilarious and informative. And Gulp is also fascinatingly gross.

 

After two more bleachings, my hair was finally light enough to go grey. In case you lost count, that’s four bleachings in two weeks. Yes, my scalp was angry. My hair still has a bit of a weird texture to it. But not even a nuclear explosion could make that shit fall out. (Though actually it could since that is one of the symptoms of radiation poisoning).

 

We both realized that the reason we struggled with my hair so much was that I had auburn hair as a kid. Apparently red heads have difficult hair to bleach. Who knew?

 

So I had grey hair for one hot minute.

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I dare you to tell me I don’t look fantastic here.

 

But the bleach has been working on my hair over time now and a few weeks later, I am blonde again.

 

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Me now. Making some weird face.

 

I think next time I will go back to my childhood roots and dye it red. Sorry for all the pics of myself! 

Blue

I had this brilliant idea a few weeks ago. I am not totally sure where this idea came from. I really don’t know where most of my ideas come from. It is the curse of being creative and imaginative.

Some of you may know that I am not a big fan of shaving. There is nothing wrong with other people shaving. I think everyone should do what they want with their own bodies.

 

I personally like to shave my legs, because it feels good between the sheets or when I wear trousers. I don’t like to shave my armpits or pubic hair. I actually think armpit hair looks sexy on me (and it is rare for me to use that word to describe anything I am even remotely involved with). And I get razor burn too bad on my pubes. Especially when I am sexually active.

Although, I would wear these. I bet they are warm.

Yes, sometimes people get weirded out by it. Never someone that I am actually having sex with. They never say shit about it. But casual strangers who really don’t have a right to an opinion of my body. Or my co-workers.

 

There is no legitimate reason why women should shave but men shouldn’t. If it is unsanitary for a woman to have body hair then it is just as unsanitary for a man. And if a man likes the feel of smooth, hairless legs then he should shave his own fucking legs.

 

But anyway. I wanted to jazz up my appearance a bit but, as mentioned, my boss is conservative and wouldn’t approve of me dyeing my hair. Not to mention I wouldn’t be able to donate it if I dyed it. So I decided to dye my armpit and pubic hair.

Women have body hair. Get over it.

Some people have told me that that is a very weird idea. Well, here is a whole tumblr about it. So, it isn’t that weird.

I had thought about doing it once in the past but was discouraged by a sales girl at a beauty supply store. I was determined this time. I decided to buy women’s mustache bleach to dye my hair blonde and then buy Kool Aid to color it something interesting. Like blue, or purple.

Apparently you can dye all kinds of things with Kool Aid.

I went to Target and couldn’t find mustache bleach anywhere. I wound up asking a very young employee. She didn’t think they carried it.

 

So I wound up back at the original beauty supply store I had started this whole journey at. It was like a some kind of beautiful, hair dye, circle of life.

 

The woman there this time directed me to the mustache bleach. I explained to her why I was buying it and she started dying laughing. She even asked if I would come back in to show it to her (my armpits, I presume).

 

I wound up buying both a lovely, vibrant blue and a fuschia. As I hadn’t had any luck finding unsweetened Kool Aid packets anywhere. And then, I had no excuses. It was time to dye.

I got the dark blue and the purple.

I made myself a wine slushie to help keep me entertained. If you want to make one yourself, just freeze some wine in an ice cube tray. It won’t fully freeze due to the alcohol content. Put the cubes in a wine glass and crush them with a spoon. Wine slushie!

It tasted better than a regular glass of wine too.

I applied the bleach to my tender bits and moved on to my armpits. It only took a few seconds for the tingling to begin and I realized something was terribly wrong. The bleach was strong. It was starting to hurt. I looked down at my crotch in horror. It felt like I was burning my fucking clit off with acid.

 

My hands were all gunked up and by the time I got them clean, the burning had subsided. Or I had burned off all the nerve endings and could no longer feel any more pain.

 

I applied it to my armpits and experienced the same sensation. I knew the directions on the bleach were for a normal woman’s body hair. Not for my stubborn, Eastern European hair. So I decided to leave the bleach on for twice the length of time as recommended.

 

And lucky thing too. When I finally got it rinsed out, I wasn’t even a blonde. I had a ginger crotch and armpits.

 

I laughed, and in my head I kept thinking of the phrases “do the curtains match the drapes?” And “do the cuffs match the collar?” They didn’t anymore.

 

I waited a few days for my poor, sensitive skin to recover before applying the blue.

 

One tip: Do not apply blue hair dye without wearing gloves. It will look like you have been fingering a Smurf.

 

And there would be no easy way to explain that to my boss. Especially after the whole vagina incident. I could just imagine the conversation.

 

Boss: “Why are your fingers blue?”

Me: “I was dying my armpit and pubic hair blue.”

Boss: *curls into fetal position and cries*

 

So I spent the evening sitting on a towel on my couch. Trying not to get blue on everything.

 

When I washed it off, I saw that it did a fantastic job of dyeing my skin. And a really good job of dyeing my hair.

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My actual blue armpit.

But maybe don’t try this at home. Go to a salon and leave it to the professionals. Unless you’re me. Because I am totally going to try this again at home.