So, on to the hair. You may recall that Bree Despain said I lacked the skillz needed to pull off being a brunette. She threw down her gauntlet (a ski glove) and I picked it up and slapped her cheek with it.
It was on.
I tried. I'm telling you here and now, I really tried. But after the first attempt, there was some argument as to whether or not I was truly brunette.
Here's a pic the day after I got my hair done with some of the writer peeps and my cousin Debbie and her blogger/writer friends. I admit, I can see why a select few thought I was still blond. (I'm the brunette on the left toward the back).
So I decided to try again. But I ran into another issue most everyone faces when they are making the jump from blond to brunette: If I go any darker, how will people be able to tell me apart from Sara Zarr?
(Sara Zarr, me)Aside from the hair, we're practically twins, from our tiny little ears to our expressive eyebrows.
Despite this, I decided to go darker anyway. I've always wanted a twin sister. Sara will be so pleased.
So the writer peeps and I scoured the aisles of Walmart until we found the perfect shade for brunette virgins. Emily and Valynne got in on the coloring action too.
After the 2nd attempt to become brunette, my hair ended up... dark dark dark blond. Which I thought would be okay, until I got a peek at the result under the harsh flourescent lights of Walmart, and nearly popped my gizzard. I was pretty sure I'd seen the same shade of blond/brown caked onto the soles of my husband's shoes.
Even the lady at the checkout treated me differently. She took one look at my hair, and said, "You're gonna have to push the 'okay' button on the credit card machine extra hard."
me: "Why? Is it because I'm a brunette, and life is just more difficult for brunettes?"
her: "Lady, that ain't brunette."
Then my hand got caught in the twisty-turny bag thingee, because apparently brunettes are clumsier too.
Emily dressed the wound, and told me I needed to disinfect it immediately since the injury was sustained at Walmart, and that means there was a 98% chance I'd lose the hand.
I raced back to the house, and, being the calm rational person that I am, grabbed the remains of Emily Wing Smith's coloring bottle and tried to go dark a third time. THREE TIMES.
The result? Red.
I know. I thought it was successful too. 4 out of 5 writer peeps liked it. (The dissenter was Bree Despain, who believes as much as I try, I will never grow the cajones needed to be a brunette. She also believes hair is a precious commodity, and what I had done to mine was tantamount to inflation. Upon seeing the color, she said, "Why do you hate hair? Why??!!")
But my blond hair is still rejecting the color. After 24 hours, the red/brown had already faded to this:
And this morning, I found some blond hairs peeking through.
Fine. I admit it. I have no idea how to go brunette.
How's y'all's week going? It's 6 degrees here in SLC and I can tell you from personal experience that brunettes don't do well in the cold.