let me start by saying...i am not afraid to experiment with my hair. it's been long. it's been short. it's been in between. it's been blond (natural). it's been very dark brown. it's been red. it's been blue. it's been pink. sometimes on purpose. sometimes not. so now it's april 1, 2009 (nope...i didn't just make that up). my hairstylist can't fit me in for a cut and color before i fly home for a "girl's night". it was supposed to be just a few close friends. it had quickly ballooned into a major blow-out, as most parties do. i needed to look good! a friend of mine said "don't worry...i can help you". tiffany always put streaks of a beautiful red in my blond hair. i need the color touched up. i needed a trim. my friend trimmed the ends. the cut looked great! she colors my hair. me "are you sure that's the right shade?". her "yes. i'm positive. sit back and let me do this.". me "okay? but if you screw this up we're going to be in a fight.". rinse out the color. "what's wrong? you look funny". blow dry the hair. O...M...G!! we are definitely in a fight. this was not the first time i had fuchsia hair. it was just the first time someone who had cosmetology training had done it. it doesn't take a rocket scientist to know: red and white=pink. red and blond=fuchsia!! her "i can fix it!! i can fix it!!". two hours later it was platinum and fuchsia! she did not fix it. i spent the entire night crying. how was i going to attend a girl's night...with a bunch of women i hadn't seen in 20+ years...with pink hair. i waited until tiffany's shop opened. i met her there with my hoodie on. tiffany "what...did...you...do?" me "blah blah blah...yadda yadda yadda (incoherent jibberish)". tiffany fixed it.
it's national bad hair day. let your freak flag fly...
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