I Don't Like Her...

....I don't' trust anyone who does their own hair. I don't think it is natural.

- Truvy from Steel Magnolias


I didn't want to do it. Honest, I didn't. But desperate times call for desperate measures (that was my back up for the title of this post).
So, I played Kitchen Beautician.
I know. I know. You don't have to tell me. I already know what "OH MY...NO YOU DIDN'T" thoughts are going through your head.
It started like this.
I am a loyal customer. I am a consistent customer. I tip. I show up on time. I wait. For six years I waited every appointment. I have waited up to 1 1/2 hours before. But I still go back.
Why?
Cause she is dang good at what she does. That and she agrees with me that there should be ZERO roots after a color session. I mean ZERO. NO 1/4 inch break from the scalp and then the color begins. No.No.No. One must pour the dye/bleach into the root cavity if at all possible so that the re-growth might even have a tint of color.
Yep, that's my girl.
But we had a fall out. Such a long story to tell, but it involved back to back appointments that left me feeling not so much appreciated and valued as a customer.
So I decided to move on for the time being.
I tried someone new. (even though I felt as if I was having an affair)
He didn't pan out.
It seemd he liked the 1/4 inch break before beginning color.
No go.
So this left me stranded. I have let my hair just grow and I am to the point where even when my hair is fresh washed (stealing a term from my good ole gal pal, Angie here) it still looks dirrrrrrrrrrrrty.

Which brings me to today.
I took the boys and went to visit my grandmother, Mom-mommie.
Boys + road trip + today = kitchen beautician.

It was a ROUGH day. Lotsa whining, lotsa timeouts, lotsa spanks, lotsa lotsa.
As I was driving home listening to the boys oh insert any of the below here ___________.

* click their tongues in unison
* scream "NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO" to one another as loud as they could
* shout the word "poopy" and then laugh hysterically like goats
* kick the backs of the bucket car seats
* play tug of war with Casey's blanket until it turned into a meltdown (you know the kind where laughter immediately turns into rage crying. Meet Casey.


I decided I needed a pick me up. This is where I'm wired a wee bit backwards. You see, when I am under duress and feeling stress I don't naturally tend to want to veg out.
No, no. Not me.
No, what I like to do is add more on my plate. You know start a new project, try something I have never done before, cook a brand new dish while sewing about 10 new custom purse orders or even perhaps attempt to color/highlight my hair ON MY OWN.
For those of you who know me well. This ain't my first rodeo.
I used to live with a hairdresser right out of college. I would occasionally get tips and how to's on how to do certain tricks. But mostly she let me play in her hair stash. For a period of about 3 years, I did my own highlights. Just a little "homegrown" looking from time to time and I'm not gonna lie. MAYBE, just maybe some hairs were burned off from over processing. But just once or twice. Or three times.
Once moving to Chattanooga, I found my girl wonder and I was set.
Like I said, until now.
So I get home; feed the angels.
What's that?
That's right. I fed them waffles.
Why?
Cause I didn't have a care in the world to try to even attempt coercing them into eating vegetables at this point. I did throw some applesauce out for an appetizer. It went over pretty well.
By this time Kenny walks in from practice.
He is a true GOD send.
He whisks the boys off to do baths and bed and I hit the floor running to the store.
Why Sally's Beauty Supply, of course.
I have a quick convo with my old roommate Amanda the hair dresser as to what color to buy. I went with a 6N and 5G and combined them equal parts. These are a dark brown color with richness in tone. Kind of like a light Chestnut color.

I buy some bleach for my highlights and all the necessities and I am out the gate.
My sister-in-law, Kim, gave me a book today which sort of prompted me for my next stop:

So I went and picked up this:

(AAAHHHH, the ole box wine. Straight Aunt Sharon style. Mom used to drink this too. Cheap, lots of it, and just what I needed after a day like today.)
I get home. I do the color first. Kenny, again the GOD send husband, helps me get my hair evenly through the cap.

Go time.
25 minutes later. I rinse and wash.
It is dark. I like it. Now time for highlights.

Amanda recommended I use the cap pull through technique for this, but I had another idea...see how I like to play rue let right up until the very end? Crazy I say.

I broke out the aluminum foil and decided to ahem,"be creative." I blame it on being left handed...way too much artsy fartsy stuff going on in my mojo at times...way too much.

Check out this bad boy:

Yep, that humdinger is mine. Yanked right out of the basement from my good ole days of Kitchen Beautician. Ain't she a beaut? Bought this trendy dryer when I was a wee 22. That's 10 years ago. YIKES!!! This ole gal teamed up with mom's/my old teaching chair and made one helluva beauty parlor!
One glass of wine down, the 2nd one poured and I am rollin'.
It took me awhile, but NOT NEARLY AS LONG AS I USUALLY SPEND AT MY HAIRDRESSERS INCLUDING THE WAIT TIME!!!!!
It's not perfect and no, you are not getting a grand finale picture until tomorrow!
The suspense is killing you isn't it? Either it's that or this hideously long post.
Perhaps tomorrow will be the unveiling of the hair. Perhaps.
Wonder what you guys are thinking right now...

In the words of Truvy... There's no such thing as natural beauty.

Ain't that the truth!

:-) .mac