Hair Trauma

In case you need a little back story: Trav's bestest friend in the whole world: Noel = Hairdresser. My Hair = very, very blonde. Noel likes = Making the Very Very Blonde me. Me likes = not paying for an expensive salon hair job, and still getting an expensive salon hair job.

Ok, now that you are caught up... In the November Vogue, Reece is looking adorable as a brunette. I am admiring this hair for a month and I finally decide to do it. Noel asks when he gets to play with my hair again, b/c my roots are starting to need bleaching again. I tell him that I want to go brunette and show him the Vogue.

After some "Are you sure? Really Sure?? Really really Sure???" He then told me that he couldn't do it in one day. That he'd have to dye the hair an auburn shade first, and then a deeper brown after that had set, b/c if he didn't then my very very blonde hair would turn a lovely holiday shade of green.

In a week I hopefully will be a rich, lovely shade of brown. Until then, here I sit, a lovely shade of red instead. If my digital camera were working properly, I could show you, like Terri did, but alas, you have to come to the mall, or simply imagine my deep and mysterious red hair... Unless Santa is bringing me a new camera? (Hint hint.)