Friday, March 13, 2009

Does Blondeness Extend Beyond Roots?



Stardate: March.10.2009

Mission: Pursuit of great hair. For the last month . . . it has been elusive. Not a single day has it been sighted. In the mirror. In the window. In my mind. I simply must possess this great hair. Without it . . . there is no hope. Not even from Obi Wan Kenobi.

Target: Little Rock, Arkansas. Lying 97 miles southwest of my location. For blonde hair. Bottle blonde. The kind of blonde technically not given to blonde moments.

Contact: Jennifer. Paul Mitchel stylist. Gifted. Booked up the wazoo.

Report: Rushed morning. Don't comb hair (why should I?). No make-up (in a hurry). Old t-shirt (don't risk getting color on important top). Must arrive on time. Be finished on time. Another mission to be accomplished upon my return with non-negotiable ETA. Drove like a bat out of hello. Construction notwithstanding. Arrival five minutes late. Jen nowhere in sight. Concerned. Waiting. Rest of salon staff think I'm a homeless person parked on their bench out of the rain. Could be. They go to call Jen. I pull appointment note out of bag. SHIT. Instructions said Wednesday. SHIT again. Blonde moment.

Oh God. Beam me up Scotty. Please.

Clearly without the blonde for one more day. Decide to make hay while sun shines. Okay. It wasn't.

Mall not an option with looks like that. Universe was wet enough. Didn't dare cry. Went another 14 miles to favorite nursery in the galaxy in pursuit of consolation. It worked. They know me, didn't care what I look like (looked like been rained on and just coming off a 7 day gardening marathon), felt sorry for me, gave me golf cart, let me busy myself for two hours. Plants have a way of cheering me up. Ask Wall-E how well that works. Logged 222 unnecessary miles at a very unwarp speed.

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Stardate: March.11.2009 (correct Stardate)

Mission: Pursuit of great hair. Again.

Target: Little Rock, Arkansas. Lying 97 miles southwest of my location. For blonde hair. A bottle blonde, increasingly given to blonde moments.

Contact: Obi Wan Jennifer. Stylist of those possessing the Force (those forced to drive another 194 miles second day in a row for their hair). Yes, she IS worth the drive.

Report: Rushed morning. DID fix hair. DID put on make-up. DID wear awesome shirt. One might be forced to go to the mall. Drove like a bat out of hello. Construction notwithstanding. Jen was there. Waiting. Staff didn't recognize me as homeless person from day before. Welcomed with open arms, offering drinks. Wonder why. No SHIT-ing this day. Relaxed. Submitted to treatment.

Am now blonde.
Am worth it.
Moments and all.




4 comments:

Garden Wise Guy said...

Girl - you've got a gift for blogging (and living). It's a joy to read. Thanks - I'm at Paul Mitchell school in my 'hood today at 12:30 (Pacific), so start thinking good thoughts around 4:30 (you Central or Eastern out thar in Ark in Sass?

BTW: do you sound like you're from the South or are you normal like me?

kate smudges said...

Am I forever destined on your blog to linger underneath the wise guy above? Shouldn't have taken that nap. Would have arrived sooner.

Hate to tell you this, but I've had this happen several times. At least the driving times were way shorter (like 10 minutes) but the result was the same. Unfortunately, I'm always recognised. Thankfully, my hair stylist is a friend ~ and fabulous with colour and scissors.

Garden Wise Guy said...

Kate: I did a double take when you wrote "this has happened several time." I guess you mean the appointment; not disrobing in the laundromat.

Also, you've beaten me to the comment section MANY times. Didn't know we were competing. Just seems like we both have good taste.

BTW: the Word Verification blogger gave me for this comment is "colon". Lovely. I'll have to chat with their I.T. person.

Amanda said...

Love it. I swear we are living parallel lives.