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figure eights

i believe i've made it very clear that i have no idea what i'm doing with my life. my sometimes-incapacitating panic mixed with my friends' enthusiasm for change resulted in my confusion about life manifesting itself in a new hair color. i became a redhead.


 for about a day. then it turned orange, 'cause that's what happens when you use a box of red hair dye.


orange was not good. also a guy at work told me i looked like a prostitute. and though everyone wants to look like ree drummond [not a prostitute], i got antsy and made a hair appointment.

four chemical-filled hours later i was blonde again. a real soft, pretty blonde.



despite the fact that this color did not come from a box, and despite my diligent use of purple shampoo, my hair started getting less blonde and more yellow. 


the final straw was when i saw our family pictures, taken over thanksgiving. i would post the picture here but A. i've been working relentlessly to destroy every copy of that picture and B.most of the world has already seen it. but i was full on, bleached, bad-decision-making platinum blonde. so i sucked it up, went to a different salon, and got it re-fixed. 


and just like that--hair damage, days of stress, and hundreds of dollars later--i am pretty much right back to where i stared.


except a tiny bit different. it's like those clips that i had when i was a kid--the ones that turn a different color in the sun? sometimes when i'm in the dark it starts to look brown and stripey, sorta like every girl in the world in the 90's. 


but i'm okay with it. 

[title from must get out by maroon 5]

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