Part of the ongoing maintenance is the hair. Now we are red again. (such the newsflash- it's fake... real is a nondescript blond, with I suspect by now, tons of white- I am really curious in a morbid way as to how much white- I haven't checked in a very long time.) Funny thing though. For some reason, guys- usually older- insist on calling me "red" Like it's some kind of film noir hell that we've stepped into all of a sudden. And they're Sam Spade. It's goofy. I know that they're being nice, but it's very strange to refer to some stranger by the color of their hair. If I see a nice looking guy, should I say- "Hi brown?" What if he's African American? Then what do we have? An incident, I would guess.
Just gotta thank mom for the white hair genes, though. Shout out mom! Kinda wish I could trade that one for the 20/20 vision, or amazing metabolism that you have that keeps you the same weight you were in college...
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Okaly dokaly. I shall call you "Vanity" forevermore. That'll be a fun time. Hee hee. When I do call you that, I'm sure you can throw a good punch. However, I'm especially adept at dodging. Probably has something to do with all the wooden weapons coming at my head most every night of the week.
Sorry for the raininess and coldness and unemployedness. I'd do something about all of it, if I could. Except I kinda like the raininess. ^_^
I want to call you VANNY for short, ok??? You are "red again" did you change it? I like your (our, actually) natural color. I think you'd look good with gray/white, distinguished!:). I had a hair adventure too, bleached it all, then freaked out, then colored it back to what I imagine my (our, actually) natural color to be. Looks good now, just thankful I still have hair. You can call me "DOes Stupid Stuff WIth Hair Girl" Why couldn't we both have parents with beautiful, thick, dark wavy hair? Damn:)
What I want to know is how red is it? When I lived in Harlem, people used to call me Red. I moved to Turkey and people called me Blondie, and I had no experience with hair dye in between. It's all a matter of perception. Since I had that brain aneurysm in July and the hair on the right side of my head turned white, nobody mentions my hair -- it's too freaky (almost calico) and would would be like calling somebody with a harelip "Bunny"
I didn't change it- the roots were showing in the most alarming way. And I was seeing some suspiciously whitish hairs...and rather than pull them all out and have bald patches, I chose to grab the dye bottle.
Andrea- I would settle for a determinate color. Not the in-between nondescript shade that it really is. And while I'm bitching about my hair- I would really like it to have some character- not the limp kind of fine shit that's attached to my head.
I want to see a picture, Rich! Kenga is getting white too- little sprinkles of snow on the temples. We think it's funny. Maybe he'll stop being carded- he's 36, after all! He talks about dying it all when the white gets too pervasive. I haven't filled him in on the kind of committment that is yet...
Don't let him do it! Men with dyed hair always look either like they're wearing a helment or trying out for a Star Trek role -- Vulcan or Romulan to be precise. Too much free time and the discovery of Spike TV's five hours of Star Trek on weekday afternoons (DS9 X 2, TNG X 3) make references to the show too readily availible -- must get a real job and stop the madness. Fortunately when I tell Cris she looks like Consular Deanna Troy she takes it as a compliment.
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