Mood Lifter

Wednesday was the day. I could not wait one day longer. Something had to be done about my roots. It didn't matter if I didn't think I had the time, it HAD to be done. Unfortunately, I could not remember the name of the color that I used the last time I shared hair drama with you. On top of that, I wasn't even sure of the brand! Good grief, I think my brains are leaking out with my gray hairs...

Oh, and please overlook the wrinkles that I have in my forehead. Fair skin, multiple sunburns, failure to wear caps to shield my face...They have all lead to wrinkles. Dang it. But, I refuse to grow old gracefully. I will color my hair until I'm 85 years old, just like my Grandma Irene, the Original Prairie Woman. At that age, I think gray hairs will be perfectly acceptable. But probably not before then.



And can somebody please tell me why salt & pepper hair on men is attractive, but on me it's just depressing? I totally don't get that.

I have always loved to color my hair. I started coloring when I was in high school and usually looked forward to coloring days. I would paint my nails. I would sit and do nothing but drink lots of coffee and perhaps read a book...

Alas, those days are gone. Now when I color I usually end up doing laundry at the same time. And cleaning house....

And, to be honest losing track of the time.

Notice: Yes, I still can squeeze the endless cups of coffee in.

Then, I have a complete panic attack. Especially when I realize that I have gone 10 minutes extra, and my grays are stubborn and resistant, but what if the blasted color doesn't come off of my scalp, and I have an orange scalp, similar to when I first met the love of my life? YIKES!!!

Note: If you have not read how we met, please go now and read all about our love story. Click here for Part One. Click here for Part Two. Click here for Part Three.

Are you done?

Good.

Now, to return to our hair saga:



So, in a state of panic, I begin the tedious process of rinsing the color out. Do you ever get the feeling that the bloody water (and it really looks like blood when you are using a red product) will never run clear, and you will be rinsing your hair for the rest of eternity?

Do you ever get the idea that I tend to lean towards the dramatic?


I acknowledge there is a slight tendency towards drama. That is why I'm determined I'm really a natural redhead...


Of course, after 17 years of coloring my hair, I'm not sure what my natural color is, other than the grays, and they are very obvious... My husband has never even seen my real hair color. Seriously. He claims that only God knows what my natural color is by this time. I have changed it multiple times, and none of them have been my "natural" color. Whatever that is...


And, speaking of dramatic, don't you feel awkward taking photos of yourself? I mean, to smile or not to smile? I think smile is always the way to go, because the ones where I'm not smiling look unnatural to me. And, I look cranky. Ick. So, I tried various angles and different smiles, and tried to choose the one that was most flattering, and didn't show all of the wrinkles in my neck, or the giant crevices in my forehead...