Blonde Ambition


Or.

As my fabulous colorist told me today.

“Bronde.”

I can’t really go as blonde as I want.

No platinum for me.

Not if I actually want to have hair that won’t fall off my head.

“If I took it platinum it wouldn’t look right with your skin tone,” she added, “and all the elastic in your hair would be gone, it won’t be curly, it would break and be frizzy.”

I trust the woman.

She’s been coloring hair since she was 18.

She’s currently 37.

So something like 19 years of doing this kind of work.

She probably knows better than I do.

Although I wanted it more blonde, it’s pretty damn blonde.

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It feels pretty fabulous.

And rather glamourous.

I’m not sure what it will look like or do once the blow out fades.

Which will happen as soon as I take a shower, it will go curly, so one day of fabulous straight hair.

I have never taken the time to learn how to blow out my own hair, I just don’t have it in me to devote that much time to it.

However.

Once in a while, it is nice to let a professional do your hair for you.

And I was really happy about it.

Best color I believe I have ever gotten and a great cut, stylist recommended by my colorist, who specializes in curly hair.

She gave me a great cut.

For those who are curious I went to Harper Paige.

Lizbeth Jones did my color.

“I put some ash in it and a little caramel, and gave you bigger chunks around your face,” she told me as she was rinsing.

I have no clue what she did.

But it did immediately prompt a desire to go lipstick shopping.

Of course the one I found at Sephora was out of stock.

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Damn it.

I almost pocketed the sample.

But I know better.

I also did not spend a lot of time in Sephora.

One lipgloss, one of the their brand, and out the door for $12.

I spent more on my cut and color than I have ever spent on my hair before.

I have it.

I just won’t be buying anything else this month.

I used my clothing allowance and my book allowance with a little borrowed from my cafe allowance to cover all my bases.

It’s nice to know exactly how much money I have and can allocate.

Nothing goes on a credit card.

All cash or my debit card.

I left a nice fat tip too.

Because that’s what you do.

I mean.

20%

It’s my hair for fucks sake.

And she did a great job on it.

I’m hella happy.

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Can’t you tell?

I just had a friend drop over for tea and he was pretty stoked for it, although he expressed, 1. Go more blonde!

And 2. Holy shit! You went blonde.

He also said I looked great and had lost weight.

I love my friends.

I don’t get to see them very often.

I am busy.

Although I did find myself with odd pockets of down time today and that always throws me for a bit of a loop.

“What are you doing tonight?” My cutter asked me as she finished blowing out my hair.

“I mean, you have to go out with this hair!”

Ceci Coon was the woman who cut my hair.

FYI.

She fluffed my hair, “really, the color is amazing.”

I have to agree.

But.

I did not have going out plans.

I had going to the Inner Sunset and doing the deal plans.

That was about it.

I did do some walking about Union Square, but no shopping, as I said, the wad has been blown.

That being said, however, Lizbeth did assure me that it wouldn’t grow out funky and that I actually wouldn’t need to come back for about three months.

Which is twice the time I thought I would be coming in.

Actually, the way the receptionist who booked me told me, I thought I was going to be coming in sooner to do another layer of the color.

But, Lizbeth was firm about not destroying my hair.

I am actually happily surprised by the amount of length that Ceci was able to keep.

So.

I’m “bronde.”

And I like it.

It’s fun to do something a little out there.

Though, truth be told, I felt like a rich bitch in the salon, all blonde highlights and blow outs.

I felt fancy.

It’s fun to be fancy once in a while.

I didn’t have to tell anyone that the boy most likely to be seeing my hair and going gaga over it will be the five year old I nanny who’s favorite color is gold.

I get to be fancy for me.

I am pleased by the compliments I have received, however.

I ran into an acquaintance crossing the street as I was headed for a late lunch after the appointment.

“OMG! I didn’t recognize you as a blonde!”

She gave me a huge hug, “you look amazing, how’s school?”

We chatted and caught up then parted and went our ways.

I had an appointment to check in with my person and I took care of that, ate some lunch, made my way to the Inner Sunset, killed a little time, bought a pot of lip balm, got a manicure and went and met with my fellows at 7th and Irving.

I was not expecting a “late” (it’s not even 11p.m. right now) drive by tea session with my friend.

I realize how important it is to have friends that do that.

Text me and check in and commiserate.

He’s in school too.

And also.

Congratulate.

It’s a big deal for both of us to be in academia land again.

And while I have moments when I feel rather overwhelmed by it all, the papers, the reading, the processing, the learning, the work, the work, the work.

I have mostly a vast amount of gratitude that I get to do the work.

“I never knew you wanted to go blonde,” my friend said, a little incredulously.

Yup.

I never knew I wanted to be a therapist when I grew up.

But there it is.

Things change.

And today.

They changed too.

Color me.

Happy.

Joyous.

Free.

Oh.

And.

Bronde.

 

 

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