Going blond turned out to be a bit of a marathon. Since my hair was already dyed red, it was a huge challenge for the student stylists at the Aveda Institute to get me to a color that wasn't a bright shade of salmon. Just like the brazen women who don the color in the first place, red is stubborn as hell to get rid of. It took a triple process: an hour of bleach, wash, another two hours of bleach under a heater, wash, and then finally some extremely burny toner over the washbasin. My scalp is still smarting.
Basically I had bleach on my head for five hours on Saturday.
Surprisingly enough, my hair totally survived. I had only processed it once in eight years, so it was in really good shape. It's still a bit frizzy and the curl isn't quite sure what to do with itself yet, but yeah. I'm blond. Platinum!
I feel the need to break down this concept of changing my hair color FOR A MAN.
OF ALL THE HORRORS!
You people have a pisspoor short-term memory, dontcha now? I started thinking about going blond ages ago. It's actually number five on my Life List. I've always wanted to go blond, if for no other reason than to conduct my own social experiment. Do blondes actually have more fun?
How the hell else am I gonna find out?
I'm no doormat. I swear, it's like you people don't know me AT ALL. Joel didn't make me do this! I offered to do it myself because I wanted to see the look on his face the first time he saw me blond. And let's just say it's a good thing he had his daughter that night because otherwise we not only would have broken my bed, but several ribs and a femur or two as well.
But just for the sake of the argument, let's go ahead and assume that the ONLY reason I went blond was to make a bald man happy. Maybe I forgot to read that particular chapter in the feminist manifesto, but WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH THAT?
Isn't GOOD SEX an imperative part of the feminist agenda?
In fact, what the hell is wrong with YOU if you wouldn't trade a day in a salon for a chance at satisfying your lover's high school wet dream? I mean, REALLY? You wouldn't do that? Seriously?
Not to get too intimate here, but I'm the kind of woman who really enjoys making her partner happy.
I mean: REALLY.
This whole idea that I did it just for a man is ridiculous. I did it because making my man happy gets ME off. There was no altruism in this; it was a purely selfish endeavor.
Was it worth it? I dunno, but I'll get back to you just as soon as I can sit down again.