I’m not what you’d call a girly girl. I don’t wear eyeliner or lipstick. I don’t fret about what “outfit” to wear since I only ever wear a black t-shirt and jeans. Sometimes a grey t-shirt. I don’t wear hair accessories, wouldn’t even know how. I don’t “style” my hair. I’m currently still wearing flip-flops every day and carrying a summer purse! My friend Tiffany will read that last sentence and swoon…since polite southern girls don’t faint. I’m not butch, per se, I’m more of the plain jane variety. I don’t do things with my appearance to draw attention to myself as this makes me nervous*. My friend Tiffany is just the opposite of me. She’s girly through and through and then back around again. She’s the kind of lady (and yes, a Lady) who matches her shoes to her purse every day. My first memory of Tiffany is at an intramural sorority volleyball game where she showed up wearing a purple swishy wind suit and full jewelry – earrings, necklace, bracelets, rings and fresh nail polish. I’m pretty sure I was wearing yesterday’s ponytail and a dirty t-shirt I had moments ago dug out from a pile on my dorm room floor. We were playing volleyball for crying out loud - not trying out for Homecoming court! From that moment on it became Tiffany’s mission to make me more Lady-ish. To style my hair and make me wear an “outfit” to class.
*Maybe in another post on another day we can explore why drawing attention with my appearance makes me nervous but drawing attention with my personality gives a high that can only be matched by peanut butter and chocolate.
Apparently all of her work was in vain. I’m still wearing t-shirts, still not styling my hair, still not wearing lipstick. In fact, lately I’ve been walking around looking like this. (Tiffany, maybe you should look away.)
Of course, I don’t WANT to look like this. But I decided that I needed a break from the blonde upkeep. I mean...every eight weeks gets a bit tedious. And expensive. So I set out to grow out the blonde which, as you can see above, is a nice look. I made it all the way to yesterday when I freaked out and decided that I couldn’t take it anymore! No more bad roots! No more bad blonde! I went straight to Target and bought some nice natural brown and immediately colored my hair. Some of you may remember the last time I colored my hair and became and unintentional punk rocker (as seen here). You would think I learned my lesson. You would think by now I would know that it’s worth the money to pay an expert. You would also think that I would know better than to try and cut my own hair. You would be wrong.
My hair can now be described as brain-eating-zombie-GREY on the ends and cut by a kindergarten student with safety scissors. All I can say is, Tiffany, I’m sorry.
The worst part is – my hair used to look like this! So pretty!
Now it looks like this.
I called AJ and told her that I have a hair emergency. She asked why and I told her that I tried to cut it myself. “WHY would you DO that??” she said.
I don’t know.
I do not know.
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