My new career as a Stylist

Not really. Honestly, nobody in their right mind would let me do their hair. Which is why the Girl and her BFF are right this second taking a shower to wash out the magenta-red hair dye I streaked their hair with. And while I was at it, I put in a nice big streak in my own hair. I mean, why not? It says something, right? Like this mid-century mother has lost her freaking mind and is now living her second adolescence. Not all that incorrect. I have lost my mind recently. I think I left it someplace around the house, but nobody seem to know where it is. Perhaps it's time for a closet cleanout.

The Boy just came downstairs and said, "You died your hair too! It's like...Jesus. Jesus. It's badass. It's all silver and pink. Awesome."

Now, I'm pretty sure Jesus didn't have magenta hair. Did he? I don't seem to remember anyone mentioning that about him. God Bless the Boy, he's not all there.

So anyhow, first we had to bleach both girl's hair because BFF has jet black hair and the Girl's hair is very dark brown. Once we bleached, we had to dry the hair. Then we had to dye the hair red, and finally it's time to wash it all out. It was a comedy of errors, this whole process. BFF wanted her bangs done, and a 'few' streaks here and there. Until she saw it and then she wanted more streaks, wider streaks. Her mother explicitly said "not too radical." I have a feeling her mom is going to faint dead away. I tried, I really did, but I have crappy tools. I used the stupid toothbrush-esque thing that came with the dye and it isn't really easy to manage.


Then I had to do the Girl's streaks and I had already done a crappy job earlier in the month, so we had some mistakes to correct at the same time we were doing new mistakes on top of the old. Her baby hairs, well, they were white and now they'll be very bright pink. It will look good once it's dry. I hope.


With the teeny bit left over, I put in a nice wide streak in my own hair where my bangs were growing out. Not a lot, just enough to make you look twice. Or thrice. Because there's nothing less likely to run into around here than an old lady with a big magenta streak in her hair. Second childhood indeed.


Once we'd washed out all this chemical crap from our heads, the girls headed upstairs to use the wet/dry straightener to 'do' their hair. After they're done, the Girl will come downstairs and do mine.

The weirdest thing is that all of our hair has the same color on it, but it's different on each of us. BFF has really bright magenta-red streaks in the front, but the back is much less red. More like pinkish streaks, but very lightly done.



The Girl has very bright red streaks all over her head, lighter in the front, but really red all over.



My streak is more of a lighter pink infused with sparkly gray and dark brown hairs. It's a totally different color on gray hair than it is on bleached black hair.

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