Well it is that time of the month again. The one most women avoid discussing. You guessed it! Dying your hair.
I loathe dying my hair and would prefer (and suggest!) to leave it to the professionals but my bank account disagrees. So while on a Bread mission for the American Legion post I did some side shopping.
Now I am pretty spontaneous. I play with color a couple times a year and since it is fall why not red? Now I have done red many times in the past so picked up a box of Feria POWER RED by L’Oréal.
Now you can’t just dye your hair. You have to prepare first. So I gathered up my dark towels and cell phone and new box of joy and headed to the bathroom, where I planned to camp out for about an hour.
Most women use an old t-shirt to wear. I am the messy sort so I color in the nude. I rip open the box and dump out all these tiny little bottles and tubes into the sink. I break open the instructions and am quite surprised to find BLACK GLOVES. I carefully read the instructions and pre-set my phone timer for 25 minutes.
I try to match the bottles and such up to the horrendous drawings in the instructions. There is writing but I can’t read it without my glasses and you can’t wear glasses when you are dying your hair.
Dear L’Oréal, LARGE PRINT PLEASE.
So I put on the gloves and start my mad scientist project. Now I am familiar with hair dye. Normally when you get done mixing all of the bottles and ripping tubes open with your teeth, you get a whitish purpley or brown color. But no. This was POWER RED and it had the same color and consistency of BLOOD. So I start immersing this goop into my hair. It runs down my face and I am having Carrie flash backs. Or the Shinning perhaps. I look into the mirror and am expecting to see “Redrum.”
I do notice a bloody hand print on my neck and try to wipe it off before it too becomes permanent. SO with my head and upper body covered with red smears and goo I hit the timer on my phone. 25 minutes.
Looking around I notice my bathroom resembles a crime scene. What is a gal to do?
Take pictures of course. Now I am NOT good with selfies. My arms are not long enough. In fact I just bought a selfie stick the day before. But I am not running through the house naked and bleeding down stairs to get it.
SO 15 bad pictures later and one I could salvage, I am happy. So I sit on the toilet and play Plants vs Zombies 2 until the timer goes off.
Hop in the shower (this is when the naked part comes in handy and you don’t have to strangle yourself trying get a t-shirt off over your goo saturated head.)
Hop out and dry off. And let me tell you when they say POWER RED, they mean POWER RED. It looks like my head is on fire.