I Want to Rock the Hair Dye with You...

I have such exciting hair news!

I always feel bad for the five men who read this blog when I talk about my hair.

That was a poorly constructed sentence.

When I talk about my hair, I always feel bad for the five men who read this blog. There.

Actually, three of the men who I know read this are gay, so the hair talk is probably fine. ...No. My uncle is not gay that way. He is no fun at all, and should just go ahead and spit and scratch and like women, because there is NO celebrity gossip, NO decorating advice and CERTAINLY no hair interest. He is forever emailing me articles on the state of the world and cerebral crap like that.

Every time he sends me one of those dull articles from The New York Times or wherever, I make it a point to forward him an article on Tori Spelling.

So, straight and uninterested gay men, I apologize. Now I must get into the hair talk.

My lovely roots were showing again, although I have to tell you that it took longer than usual thanks to my Aunt Mary sending me that John Freida hair glaze stuff. I'll bet I got a good two weeks without dying out of that stuff. That was another poorly constructed sentence.

So last night we went to the store so I could get me some dye. Now, let me tell you what's beginning to happen. It is starting to be that we can go NOWHERE without knowing someone. We saw two of Marvin's coworkers at the grocery store the other night, and then last night I'm all loaded up on the hair dye and I hear Marvin go, "Hey!"

I met the nicest couple, the woman being another teacher at Marvin's school. Turns out the man likes Michael Jackson, and I have probably failed to mention that Marvin Gardens worked for Michael Jackson for a few years. Somehow Marvin had already MENTIONED this to his entire school, and the woman had already told her husband, and then lo and behold there we all were at the drug store.

Well, Michael Jackson wasn't.

Now, I understand that this occasion could not have been any less about me. Everyone was kind of focused on Marvin and his brush with "greatness." (He insists that Michael Jackson is not a child molester, by the way. Maybe I'll have him do a guest post, if y'all are so inclined.) But I could not help but be terribly conscious of the fact that I had not one, but TWO boxes of hair dye in my hands. "Hi! I am a fake, tarted-up woman! Got any push-up bras up in here? How about press-on nails? Any press-on nails? Do they sell grilles for your teeth in that aisle down there? And hey, where can I get my weave worked on?"

I don't know. It was just weird. I wish I had been holding something respectable, like hand towels and Lysol.

At any rate, I used an EVEN CHEAPER hair dye than before: Revlon. (I used to use L'Oreal.) AND I went crazy and bought one box of medium brown and one box of medium auburn, so I got a really dark red color that is decidedly not burgundy. Which I wanted to avoid. It just doesn't look good with my grille.

So the good news is it turned out really great! I think each box of dye cost less than $3. Now, do not get me wrong. When my year is up, I am SO going back to highlights, lowlights, light my fire, light my fanny and call me Harry, whatever. But for now I am quite pleased.

And to my uncle, next time we will discuss the primaries and the national debt, I promise.