Color Virgin

I did it. Finally. I highlighted my hair blue. I know what you're thinking, midlife crisis. I'll have you know this is not a midlife crisis. A third-life crisis, maybe. If it was a midlife crisis I would have highlighted my dreadlocks blue. Mark my word, I'm going all out when I reach "midlife."

I alluded to my desire for color back in July, and even though it was only a dream there was truth to it. I have toyed with the idea of purple or blue for several years now, knowing that the "socially acceptable" window was getting smaller by the day. So, the morning I found a brand new grey hair on the left side of my head, I knew it was time for color.

Being a color virgin, I knew I needed subtle. As much as Fifty Shades of Grey would like you to believe a virgin can handle kinky fuckery, I'm not a believer. A virgin needs to start out slow, test the waters before diving in head first.

Well. That doesn't look very impressive. I swear, it's blue. I did say I wanted subtle and understated, but honest, it's blue. Let me try again to highlight the highlights.

There. It's blue. Vibrant cobalt blue. I've been deflowered. Maybe next time I'll look into the kinky fuckery side of color and highlights.

 

Night Time Adventures

I've been über busy recently. Allow me to fill you in on my goings-on.

Last night, I died my hair. I'm a brunette. I've always been a brunette. As much as I have wanted to color and highlight, growing up watching my mother and my two sisters change their hair color to match the phase of life they were in, I'm far too practical. I watched the expensive, money sucking cycle continue month after month, year after year with them and knew, until grey hair forced me to, I had better things to spend my money on. But last night, I chose a very pretty shade of blonde with soft, subtle pink highlights. Pink. I'm sure I will be the talk of the preschool parent association.

The night before, I watched my best friend's girlfriend train a yellow lab puppy. It seems the puppy is destined for hunting trial fame and fortunes. The girlfriend, being an obvious bad ass, killed a duck by clubbing it and ripping it's wing off. She procedded to wrap the wing in tape and throw it for the adorable, black nosed puppy in an attempt to teach it to fetch. Impressive, albeit a bit scary, to watch.

The night preceding that, I took a job on Air Force One. I can not disclose my duties, far too top secret. All I can say is I may or may not be serving the president and his staff refreshments. I was issued my assignment in the middle of the night with no time to prepare, having to quickly pack all my belongings into brand new charcoal colored luggage, say my farewells to dear, sweet Alice, and head off on my way.

As you may have guessed, all this busyness has been occurring while I was sleeping, in my dreams. Every night, while I'm supposed to be recuperating from an exhausting day taming my wild child and her tantrums, I'm off on another nighttime adventure. I don't know what all the randomness of my dreams mean, if you or someone you know is a dream interpreter, feel free to offer your two cents. I do hope tonight I can take the night off and just sleep.