Do Blondes Have More Fun?

Blondie-x-Los-Rakas-I-Screwed-UpI believe it is a bad thing when you look at your senior portrait from high school, 10 years later, and your hair looks exactly the same. Same color. Same cut. It’s like no time has passed (especially if you graduated high school in the 80’s … get that shit fixed, there is no excuse). 

I’ve been yawning at my hair for a while now. It isn’t the cut, as I adore my stylist (hi Jenna!) She literally is the only human being capable of working a pair of scissors that I let do whatever she wants to me … and it is ALWAYS pure genius.

The color is what really has been boring me to pieces. I’ve been dark brown for a good amount of years now. I’ve had a few highlights added in here and there. I almost went black for a period of time (but since my wardrobe keeps getting less and less colorful I really had to pull back on that). I had that heinous red period that my friends and family now tell me, billions of years later, was a heinous mistake (thanks for the honesty, guys). And I was like a purple-ish red in college due to lack of funds and my obsession with the Feria box hair dye “chocolate cherry” (my 21st birthday pictures are a sheer disaster). 

And now I’m wondering … do blondes have more fun? I’m not saying I want to go Paris Hilton platinum blonde … nothing like that as I know first hand how fucking horrific it is to get your hair bleached. And even now, as an “adult” I don’t have the funds to keep up with that maintenance. 

Really my spirit animal throughout my blonde thought process has been Rachel McAdams’ hair in the new True Detective. For the past three years, I have been sitting by my window, creepily starring at ombre hair singing softly to myself, “hello … is it me you’re looking for?! I can see it in your eyes. I can see it in your smile. You’re all I ever wanted. And my arms are open wide. ‘Cause you know just what to say. And you know just what to do. And I want to tell you so much. I love you.” (I’m well aware that I’m a freak)


It comes down to the fact that I don’t have the balls. Ombre hair mine as well be the hottest guy in school you never make eye contact with because you know your face will turn bright red and explode out of too many emotions swirling together. You want ombre. You’ve basically planned your wedding with ombre. But when push comes to shove and ombre comes over to ask you what time it is … you freeze up and pee yourself a little. 

Oh hair dye, why can’t you be easier to play with? Why can’t you be more like nail polish. If you hate the color, a little nail polish remover fixes everything. Whereas if you get your hair dyed something outside of your comfort zone (ombre), and it looks like shit you: A. have to spend a ton of money getting it fixed on top of the money you already spent. B. Risk insulting the hair stylist who just dyed your hair. and C. Damage the HELL out of your hair. Is it worth it? 

My fear is that another 10 years will pass, and the younger generation will look at me and be all, “wow she is so stuck in 2005.” I mean that statement alone makes me want to curl up in the fetal position and cry a little. I guess until I get my balls together, I will just continue staring out my window at ombre hair color, singing sad songs to myself. 

Sigh. Also, DAMN YOU, KARDASHIANS will your endless amounts of money and “glam squads” who can change up their hair every damn day. Damn you. Dammit! Damn. Damn. Damn.

To Ombré Or Not To Ombré … That Is The Question …

It’s about a bazillion degrees outside right now and normally people with long hair like myself would probably be contemplating chopping it all off at this very moment in time, where I am currently contemplating how to reinvent my hair color.

I first dyed my hair when I was 18. Everyone told me not to do it because once you start you can’t stop … but of course I thought that was all hogwash. Only until I saw the ugly roots, faded color and gray hairs pop up is when I finally said to myself, “dammit, NOW I get it.”

So after seven years of dying my hair I have been every shade of brown possible, a red-head (all I wanted was a red tint and I ended up looking like freaking Debra Messing … did I have the balls to tell my hair dresser he ruined me for the end of my senior year in high school… nope), I went through a black hair phase when I thought mixing my own color was a good idea (hello Elvira … it was hot), a cherry chocolate color that rocked in the beginning and then after a few more dyes it started to turn this gothic looking red. I went through a phase in college when my hair looked like a faded, mixed color mess because I was too broke to get it dyed (we’ve all been there), I did the whole highlights thing … and for the past three years or so I’ve been this great rich dark brown color that I’ve been obsessed with. But after three years … I mean come on, I’m bored. Literally yawning at my color as I speak.

Some people self-express through tattoos, interpretive dance, making cupcakes, I mean whatever floats your boat … I personally dye my hair. My next hair color adventure I want to go on … ombre, duh … all the cool kids are doing it. No seriously, I’ve been wanting to do it for months and months and months but resisted temptation because I was in a wedding in May and was scared that I was going to look like a hot tranny mess. Now … I have nothing stopping me. EXCEPT … well, I over think everything and here are my most relevant and recent fears, ahem:

  1. I will look like Kei$ha. Yeah … I love the dark roots and lighter tips look … I really do … but sometimes it can be drastic and dirty looking, which makes me think of Kei$ha … and quite frankly I don’t want to pay $200 to look like I live in a trash can down by the river. I am a lot of things, but trash can chic ain’t one. Seriously, who gave that chick a career?
  2. My hair is pretty dark right now, which means they are going to have the bleach this shit out of it … which equals damage and pain. Ever had bleach touch your scalp? Hurts like a mofo kids… like eyes filling up with tears pain. But beauty is pain … I suppose, or I just need to find a salon that serves booze.
  3. It is expensive as all hell. And quite frankly, it is a pretty specific process and can go wrong real fast … so I should pay top dollar to have it done right and well instead of getting half priced Suzy to do it and have her bleach all of my hair off or something ridiculous like that so I’m left with like two strands of hair to braid.
  4. Going blond scares me. I know I wouldn’t be going all blond, but still. I’m a brunette at heart. Let’s put it this way, if brunettes had a gang, I would probably be the leader and wear lots of leather in a Joan Jett kind of fashion. And I feel by dying my tips blonde … well, I may be losing a part of that. Okay, I’m officially cray-cray, I know. Me as a blonde, weird. Straight. Up. Weird.

So there ya have it. I’m going through something right now where I need a little edge to my hair. I will probably end up doing ombre and then I will have to live in a van down by the river because I will be broke as a joke after it is all said and done … but I have a feeling it will be worth it, at least the adventure aspect of it.

Jessica Biel is my ombre muse (see picture attached) … even though I loathe her face because Justin Timberlake promised to marry me since I was 13 … and she has ruined all of that :::Sigh:::, but I digress. Any comments, criticisms (constructive for the love), or thoughts are welcomed with open arms.

Maybe I do need a little Kei$ha in my life to feed my need for “edge.” And then in a couple of months I can crawl back in my boring brunette hole.