My mom FINALLY let me dye my hair a deep brunette mid-way through my first semester as a senior. I loved it. Since then, I've been brunette, rich auburn, deep mahogany, platinum blonde, and roasted red. I'm back to blonde, because I'm used to people, especially men, thinking they can pull a fast one on me as a blonde, and I like the element of surprise. I'm guilty of playing up to people's preconceived notions of the ditsy helpless blonde, and then sweep their feet out from under them.
What can I say? I'm a bitch.
Here's my current look: short and strait blonde.
(EVIL IGUANA.)
Last month, my buddy Bobby asked if I wanted to go to Disco Night at our local Playhouse. King Center for the Performing Arts. It was at the local college, where I spent many a high school dances and awkward nerdfests (aka Odyssey of the Mind) and we decided to dress up.
Bobby, the jackass, let me down. I set my hair in crimpers overnight, then used hairspray and a comb to tease my stubborn hair into an afro. It was awesome looking. Bright blue eyeshadow (think Sandy in Grease) and a hippy-dippy top completed my look.
I don't have full pics of my ensemble, but I do have a pic of the deflated afro.
You can just see Bobby at the right edge of the frame. He's a handsome devil.
And what a great night.
Nowadays, I'm totally into my natural hair gifts. Blonde? Fine, I'll keep it. Thick? Only a pain when I get my highlights. Or riding a convertible with the top down. Legnth? Okay, I still chop my hair off every few months, but I've made a pledge that I won't cut it for a year.
We'll see how well I stick to that promise.
