Hey kids! Putting up a couple of things that got posted on Facebook, but were written before I did this blog set-up…..
This one is from November of 2011:
At best my train of thought is……..skippy……….so follow along as best you can, if you’re interested, that is…. 🙂
I’m a redhead. Yes, I get some help with that…….I mean, my lord, I’m 43………and the grays aren’t just creeping in, they’re forming a royal corona on my head! But since my high school days, when hair coloring became the monthly event that it’s been ever since, no matter what color I use, it always comes out red (from strawberry to ‘holy shit maroon’)……….except for this one time.
That reminds me of a story…………
There’s a joke in that phrase; an old one that goes back to my Mom. To digress for just one little minute, it’s something that comes from her. My Mom always has a story………she taught school for over thirty years, moved house at least thirteen times (sometimes cities AND states), had seven brothers and sisters, and grew up with the Boomers’ generation (a child of the Fifties, teen of the Sixties)…………..so there’s no shortage of stories to be had. When she retired from her profession, she was presented with a book. The title was “That Reminds Me of a Story”………and it was blank. I don’t think she’s written any down, in the book, yet…….but I’m so hoping that she does. My memory holds a crapload of information, but no WAY could I hope to duplicate the preponderance of hilarity HER memory holds…..
I’ve been told (ad nauseum) that I do the same thing…….when I leave a place of work, or move, my friends always tell me that they’re going to miss my stories…. Which is odd, considering that I’m not usually aware that I’m telling them…….
At any rate, thinking about haircolor (and musing that it’s about time to ‘re-up’) reminded me of a story……….
Back in the day, in my twenties, I had three small children (this is prior to the birth of the fourth), and I used a store-bought product that purported to produce ‘Ash Blonde’ results………in my case, it produced Strawberry Blonde, but that’s neither here, nor there….
During a trip to WallyWorld, we purchased a backup box, since I’m forgetful, and usually don’t think of ‘renewing the red’ until it’s way overdue…….the box sat there in my bathroom cabinet for the rest of the month, with me bypassing it for lack of ‘me time’, what with the little kids and all…….
One evening, when all had been put to bed, and there was actual quiet in the house, I decided that although I needed to clean and vacuum, I might actually be able to get my hair done. I scurried upstairs, quickly mixed up the potion (I’d done this hundreds of times, no need to read the info), and raced the clock to get my cleaning done in the allotted 25 minutes I had, before it was time to shower out the chemical.
Cleaning accomplished, I hustled back upstairs to the bathroom, stripping on the way in (I’d passed my 25 minutes by about 5, no big shakes, what’s the harm?) and streaked past the mirror on my way to the shower. I got about two steps away before my brain said, “Wait just one damn minute. PERIPHERAL IMAGE ALERT!!), and I backed up to do a double-take in the mirror.
My hair was black. BLACK!!! Not ‘oh I’m a brunette’ black, or ‘I have a Native American heritage’ black………….it was ‘I just dipped my head in a bucket of tar’ black! BLUE BLACK……..’I’m a Goth before it was even invented’ black………
I stood there numbly, staring at the bizarro, vampire-esque creature in the mirror…..and then frantically dug through the trashcan for the used product containers……never let it be said that I’m not a charter member in the “This CAN’T have HAPPENED!!” club………..if I found out ‘why’, maybe it wouldn’t be real? I have no idea. It’s all blur for those next few moments, until I dug up the empty chemical bottle that said, “Coal Black”.
“Coal Black”…….in a box that was supposed to be “Ash Blonde”……..now, I’m sure some jokester was yucking it up when he/ she made the switch (those were the days when these boxes weren’t glued shut)……….but whosoever had done this evil thing sorely missed out on the result of their wit.
Once it was real………REALLY REALLY REAL……I burst into sobs, and just stood there, looking at my undead image. If you haven’t noticed yet, I’m pale…….Irish heritage and all………….and I like to use a term to describe my skin color (I believe it was coined by actress Amy Adams) as ‘fish-belly blue’………..with my hair masquerading as tar, I looked like I’d last seen the sun rise back in the Middle Ages.
A few minutes into my pity party, I heard my daughter (who was three) calling for me…..apparently, I’d waked her up with my caterwauling. I composed myself as best I could, called, “I’m coming!”, and stepped out into the hallway, to find her standing sleepily outside her room.
She blinked. She blinked again. She rubbed her eyes……and blinked. Her face crumpled up, tears started rolling, and she said:
“OH NO, MOMMY!!!!! You look like SNOW WHITE!”
Post Script: I got a lot of the blue-black bleached out……which took the color from ‘undead black’ to dark brown….which eventually faded to reddish brown. But I think that was the first time I ever scared a child by looking like a cartoon. Not that it was the last!!!