Monday, January 27, 2014

Drastic change?

On Thursday, I went to the hair salon - my annual trip, it seems.  It is rare that I can find someone I like or that I can find them again when my hair gets to be too crazy to manage, hence I am lucky if I get there once or twice a year.  

This visit was to yet another new salon.  I'm still shocked at the prices of hair cuts.  Is it really worth my $40 or 60plus to have them cut less than an inch from my head??   But than that is another blog post altogether.  Yes yes, I know, you get what you pay for.. blah blah.  I grew up in a small town, in the 80's/90's. Prices were not this much!

So I decided that I would get my hair dyed to some form of red and chopped off.  After 20 minutes of looking through the hair color samples, we settled on copper.  Then the stylist asked if I wanted just the color or colored to cover my gray as well.
 
WHAT?!  I have gray? What do you mean?  Oh right, I'll be 40 and I'm a blond originally so yes, it is likely that I have gray... still... What? when did I go grey?  Yes I suspected that is what I saw in the mirror but I thought I was imaging it.  *sigh*.

I mentioned this to my mother, that it is something that you wonder but still a shock when someone actually uses the word. Just like when I was told by a dental hygenist that I have gingivitis.  I mean I know that I have been teeth, poor gums but never actually heard the word before.  My mother then lectured me about how to fix that.  I know how to fix the teeth thing... strangly she did not talk about the gray hair.

I remember when my sister and I were young.  We were in the bathroom with our mother, looking in the mirror while combing our hair.  I must have been 12 or so.  I was complaining that my scalp hurt where my hair had been parted in the middle of my head as I had gotten burnt from the summer sun, when my mother replied, "yes, we blonds have to worry about things like that." 

My sister and I bother looked at each other and gave a weird look, like "WHAT is she talking about?"  My sister then said, what do you mean mom?  You're not blond.  

What do you mean I'm not a blond.  

My sister took hold of one of curls and put it next to our mother's brunette hair and said "this is blond, THIS is brown."  

Oh, my mother said as she looked at herself in the mirror.  I've alway been blond.  
Well you aren't now.  I haven't remembered seeing you with anything but brown hair mom, I said. 

When I was a little girl, my hair was so blond it was white. She said and later dug up a faded black and white photo of 2 girls who appeared to be 8 and 6.  We had never seen this photo before.  See, it was white.  

Well, it IS a black and white photo, but yes, white, mom.



I remembered that day years later when I was college and noticed that my blond was turning dark. It was then that I decided that if my hair was going to change color, I was at least going to pick.  So every once in a while, I dye my hair some shade of red or blond.



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