Hair

I have a bit of an obsession with my hair.  Long or shoulder length.  What color it was, is, or should be.  Straight cut across or layers.  And lately, whether or not it was falling out.  I'm not worried about grey.  My family goes grey pretty late in life, so I probably have a few more years before that happens.

The love of my hair started late in life.  When I was a child, my mom cared for it.  She's spend hours untangling that mess, and she would nearly scalp me so her handiwork would stay in place.  It was a wonder I didn't have premature baldness from the tightness of the pigtails and braids she did.

As I got older, say about seventh grade or so, I started to really like my hair.  It was long, and, so my friend described it, cinnamon colored.  The only thing I hated were my bangs, because I inherited a cowlick, which made them poof up.  Good in the 80s, not so good when the fad had died out.  I eventually grew them out, but for a while there, they looked really awful.

I kept my hair long until I was nineteen years old, almost twenty.  That was the year we got a computer.  Such a cool toy.  It really showed me so many different things, including a little place called Locks of Love.  Intrigued by the idea that my hair would go to help some little girl's self-esteem, I cut it all off.  It was waist length when I started cutting it, and when I was finished, it barely touched my shoulders.  Did I have regrets?  Probably, but they must have lasted a mere second or two.

After that, I was firmly convinced that I could and should grow my hair out and donate it again.  Then......I discovered hair dye.  And not just the tame colors, but the absolutely wild ones.  Like the green that didn't turn out.  Oh lord, I thought my mother was going to have heart failure.

Because my hair is darker, I knew that I would have to lighten it to have the green show up.  I used Manic Panic products for this, and uhh.....yeah.  Bleached it first (I am NOT a good blonde), but because I was in a hurry to do it before my mom got home (she had told me she would kick my ass if I did it), I didn't let it bleach long enough before I put on the green.  It was a disaster.  It looked like someone had poured a full urinal trough on my head.  I wanted to cry.  My mom was gleeful, and let out more than one, "I told you so!" over the course of the next few weeks.  I fixed it by dyeing it black (or red, it's been so long that I don't remember), but I think I forever ruined it from that point on.

For the next few years, I kept it black.  When I finally landed a job, I went to have it cut because it was more stringy and brittle than normal.  I think it was the bleach that caused it.  It looked healthier after it was cut, and I just let it keep growing out so I could cut off all the false color.  I finally achieved it, and kept it normal all through pregnancy, childbirth, and the first few months of my child's life.  Then I decided on a change.

I bought another bleach kit, and a fairly normal hair color.  Red.  Well, when you bleach your hair out and then dye it red, you end up with a a very bright, very Little Mermaid looking hair color.  I liked it, but I wasn't in love with it.  It faded a bit as time went on, but it was still "I can spot you in a crowd by your fake hair color" red.  I finally dyed it black to get rid of it.  Ah, black.  My "camouflage all mistakes" wonder.

I stopped dyeing my hair for a time, then I went on to just dye it enough to give highlights or whatever.  My hair grew out, but it really was never the same as before.  More split ends, more dryness, more flyaway.  Not pretty.  I had damaged the one nice thing about me.  I finally said, "To hell with it" in 2011, and did another crazy hair color.  Blue.

I didn't mess it up that time, thank heavens.  I bought the stuff while visiting my friends, and dyed it that day.  When I walked out of the bathroom with blonde hair, my friend was like, "Yeah, you don't make a good blonde."  Yup.  Definitely not Swedish supermodel material.  When I finally put the blue dye on, it looked like a Smurf had jizzed on my head.  Until I washed it and dried it.  Then it was really, really awesome.  Success!  No Mountain Dew screw up like last time!

After I had returned from my trip, I kept up the blue.  I eventually started a ritual of dyeing it every two weeks to maintain the deep blue color (Manic Panic isn't permanent).  It looked great, but it was really expensive.  I kept it up for about half a year, before I decided that I could better spend my money elsewhere.  So I started to just wash it out like normal.  No more dye, just washing.  It faded a bit, and I decided to do my all black cover up.  Except it didn't work very well.  It was dark, but it looked purplish-red in some lights, and some weird indescribable color in other lights.  Yeah.  I had to dye it with another black hair dye kit just to make it normal looking.  After that, I left it alone.  Until earlier this year.

I know what you're thinking....."WHY?"  Well, it wasn't a bad color.  Walgreens had a box of red dye on sale, and I couldn't resist.  I just needed a little change.  It gave my hair a hint of red, and that was it.  I haven't touched it since.

I must admit that it is tempting to tamper with it, though.  I loved my blue color, and if I could afford it, I would do it again.  However, I think I'll let my hair rest for a bit longer.  It is shoulder blade length now, but I do need a haircut.  I can feel the roughness and the split ends, and it really bugs me.  It has also taken to falling out quite a bit.  It isn't noticeable, but whenever I brush it, what seems like tons of hair gets pulled out. And I'm vain enough to not want to be bald.

Yet the blue hair color keeps calling to me.  Hmmmm....Christmas is coming up.......