I'm not even sure what to title this one, so perhaps I should simply start out by saying that it is 1:39am and I am perched on my nubin ball... with my hair twisted on top of my head. Folks, it has been a Clairol Night. Actually, the Clairol Night is still going on. In fact, I would dare say that the Clairol Night has turned into (unbeknownst to me) the Clairol War and my bathroom, sadly, became the war zone. No man's land. No turning back. Quite possibly no survivors. Hitler's Revenge.
But the box said that it would guarantee the colour on any natural hair colours. I have no idea what my natural hair colour is. I think I get close... and then I get bored. Or drastic. Or spiteful. But most normally, it's just bored. It's Beyonce's brand - you know, the one that she shakes her ass for the commercial. Wait, or was that Pepsi? No, no, Tommy Hilfiger? WTF?? Regardless, my hair's still piled on top of my head, Beyonce's still shaking her ass, and I highly doubt that I'm going to look anything like the damn box. These are the pivitol moments of no turning back and suscumbing to a baseball hat for the next few weeks. If only all my poor choices could be solved by selecting headware!!
But then there's My Bathroom. I'm not entirely certain that my bathroom is ever going to be the same again. It's lime green with baby blue mats. Nice and bright and sunny. And now that baby blue mats have a few patches of dye on them, and all I can think is that it looks like someone has shat on my floor and then proceeded to linedance on top of it. All I hear is Billy Rae Cyrus singing "Don't tell my heart... my Achy Breaky Heart..." And then there's me. I have fairly long, really thick hair, thus, there is now a requirement for two boxes of hair colour. Explain to me why it is that they couldn't just make a bigger bottle for longer hair and charge 2 extra bucks for it??? Is that really so difficult??? Because really, I only need half of the second bottle and the rest is just to randomly pour over myself. I think I coloured my armpit hair. Does that fall under the same question of "Does the carpet match the curtains?" *Insert dumb car salesman laugh that thinks he's charming you while he stares at your boobs*. Regardless, I'm a little dark around the shoulders. And the neck. And forehead. And back. And ears. Sexy, I know. I hear artificial blotchiness is in this fall.
The only certainty at this given moment is that when I awake in a few hours, I will no longer be the same girl that woke up the day before. It's kinda freaks me out.
"Every tomorrow has two handles. You can take hold of the handle of anxiety or the handle of enthusiasm. Upon your choice so will be the day." anonymous.