My sister’s a hair dresser.
The only thing better than having a hairdresser for a sister would be having a live-in esthetician. Like a nanny for my skin.
I don’t know what it is about estheticians, but they always look amazing. They know all the tricks and stuff to make your skin naturally glow in all of it’s make- up free glory. I bet they Botox during their bathroom breaks. I know I would if I had free access to all that stuff. But, I’m not so good at finding limits with things like this, as you will soon read. After this past weekend, I think it’s safe to say I wouldn’t know when to stop the Botox treatments and I’d look a lot less like a fresh faced esthetician and more like a Korean Joan Rivers.
I’d like to say that I don’t care what I look like. But, I’m shallow so I can’t.
I admit, I like to look nice.
Hence my decision to do something new and different with my hair. I decided A fresh color job was just what I needed to perk up my “I am really getting older pity party” I was having last week. So, I headed off to visit my sister.
Except for some reason the color I got didn’t look anything like the color I wanted. So I figured I’d just ask my sister to put me back the way I was.
This is when God should have made himself known in the flash, slapped the crap out of me, and told me to get over myself. But, instead I drove back to my sister’s house the next morning where she proceeded to take my new color out and put my highlights back in. I know what you’re thinking. Who the hell has this kind of time? Let’s just say my husband is more than patient. Or maybe you’re smarter than me and you’re thinking, Holy crap! Adrienne’s hair is going to fall out!
For anyone who has never highlighted dark hair before, you take the color out first. This is also known as bleaching the crap out of your hair. Then, in my case, you add more color on top of the newly bleached hair to achieve the perfect color highlights. For me, it’s caramel.
After three long hours, my sister handed me a deep conditioning treatment, and I was on my way. I couldn’t wait to see the new color we had worked so hard to achieve. I got home, took a shower, deep conditioned, and…
This is when I tell you that I was bored waiting for my treatment to be done and tried to put some moves on my husband, but he wasn’t interested. I don’t know why. Perhaps it was the mega pimple? Or maybe the Saran wrap? Either way I was forced to spend the 20 minutes in deep conditioning alone.
After my treatment was done I moved on to my teeth, body lotion, brushing out my hair, blow dry…wait. What the…Oh my God…
This is when I cussed a lot.
What I had was a hot mess. Literally! As I began blowing out my hair it nearly melted in my round brush. The ends were like rubbery strands of plastic and I was sure I was about to go bald.
I didn’t want to let on that I was super upset about this. Mostly because hubs already warned me that my hair was going to fall out right before I ignored him and drove off to my sister’s for round two of my hair color wrestling match.
Instead of complaining to my husband I did what anyone would do in an emergency situation such as this. I grabbed my phone and sent an emergency text to my sister.
She wasn’t nearly as concerned about this as I was…
After some more dramatic texts from me she did what any good sister/hair dresser would do and assured me it was all going to be fine.
When I got done blaming my husband for all of this behind his back, I decided to do the only thing I could do-drink.
Instead of crying about my fried up hair, I had a couple of beers. After that, I agreed with my sister. It was all going to be OK. Plus I had this awesome hat left over from New Year’s and I could just wear that if I went bald.
Would you believe me if I told you I woke up the next morning, went back to my sister’s house and put more color on my already colored, highlighted, colored hair? I wish I could tell you that I’m not that stupid, but you see?
After all the damage I had to my hair in the last two days, there was probably no way any color was going to look good. But, hey I was willing to try. After all of this madness my hair still looked jacked. My son told me it looked like “marble cake color”. Hmmm. Not the look I was going for. I tried one more time to fix it before I realized that I care way too much about my hair!
I learned a lesson this week. Well, more than one, really.
1. It’s a very bad idea to color, highlight, color again, and color your hair some more in a three day period.
2. It’s only by the grace of God that I still have hair.
3. I need to stop worrying about what the hell I look like all the time! and…
4. Cutting 6 inches off your locks will help solve your fried hair problem.
5. Sisters are great because they’ll do whatever you want to make you happy even if you’re their most annoying client ever.
I decided to link up with Amber from Airing My Dirty Laundry for Hey, It’s OK Tuesday. Because, I’m not bald so it really is OK.