Josie and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Hair Days, Pt. 2

My daddy loved redheads, and he passed that love of red hair onto me. I've always been told that I had a lovely shade of hair, but inside, I've always longed for the perfect shade of auburn. Sadly, there was a time when I foolish enough to try to achieve it.

The lovely haircut that Susan had magically transformed from a mullet was now growing out to a longer style, and I had just seen Spiderman. Kirsten Dunst, as Mary Jane, had the prettiest red hair, and I said to myself that it was, in fact, the perfect shade, and I needed it. Richie and Trey had a travel ball tournament, and Cathy had let Cathryn spend the weekend. I saw my opportunity, and bought a home-coloring kit that I thought matched Mary Jane's hue.

I don't know what went wrong. I followed the instructions to the letter. However, when I looked at myself in the mirror, I started to cry again. I had patches of pink, patches of garnet, and some patches that were completely untouched. I did what any girl would do--I called my sister. Of course, she did what she had to do--she brought a darker shade of hair color, and her camera. Naturally, she took several pictures of my patchwork hair, laughing the entire time. When she was done laughing, she began working on my hair, not letting me look in the mirror. (Those of you who know me know that this was absolute torture for me. I like looking at myself.)

Tracey did a good job making the hair a uniform color. Unfortunately, the hair was Gamecock Garnet. Don't get me wrong--I love me some Gamecocks, and it was football season. However, I don't love them so much that I want my hair to look like I just came from a pep rally. Tracey took another picture. When Richie came back home, he was shocked. Trey laughed, and all Cathy could do was put her hand over her mouth and ask me what I was going to do.

My first phone call was to Susan. She merely sighed and laughed, and told me to come in as soon as she opened the door the next morning. My next call was to work, and how Cathryn had come down with something and I had to take her to the doctor. The next morning, I wore a Gamecocks baseball cap (oh, the irony!) and you should have heard the laughter from Susan and Bridget when I walked through the door.

Folks, it took three hours to get my hair to a wearable state. Susan had to work me in between her scheduled clients. She had to bleach all the color out of my hair, give me something called a "soap cap", and then re-dye my hair the original color. She even put me to work brushing out and drying my hair while she did a perm for another lady. Y'all, that girl put in a lot of work on my hair, and she didn't fuss or complain the first time. Plus, my hair ended up looking very, very nice, even if everything my hair had been through left it a little dry and brittle. I had to condition every day for like a month or more.

When I got to work around lunchtime, all the ladies that I worked with immediately noticed the change. The men in the office were oblivious, but they were courteous enough to ask about Cathryn and how she was feeling.

Needless to say, I haven't let anyone else, myself included, touch my hair but Susan. I've also learned to be happier with the hair God gave me.

Toodles!

Josie and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Hair Days, Pt. 1

I believe that every woman deals with her post-partum months differently. Me, I dealt with it the way I deal with every crisis in my life--I changed my hair. Most people will tell you that you should never mess with your hair when you're upset, but when I was younger, it always worked. You know, cutting of the old Josie and becoming the new. In the next two instances, though, quite the opposite happened, and I was very lucky to have a hair stylist who is sympathetic and has a great sense of humor.

The first time, Cathryn was almost six weeks old. I hadn't really gotten out of the house, other than to go grocery shopping, so my sister proposed that I ride with her to Murrells Inlet to see her hairstylist. I figured it would be fun, so why not? Well, I'm sitting there while my sister gets her hair done, looking at one of those gazillion hair magazines, and thinking about how I was going back to work in a week, and how I didn't want to leave my baby. So, without thinking, I sit down in the free stylist's chair and tell her that I just had a baby, I'm getting ready to go back to work, and I need something easy. Something I can just flip my hair over and dry, and be done. She turned the chair away from the mirror, and went to work. When she turned me back around, I wanted to cry. I may have; I don't know, it was seven years ago. I had, basically, a layered mullet. As if that wasn't bad enough, when we walked outside, it started to rain.

When we got back to my house, my sister tried to fix it, but there was nothing she could do. I had to bite the bullet and call my stylist, Susan. I didn't want to call Susan, because I would have to explain how I ended up with a layered mullet, and she would know that I cheated on her. That's never an easy call to make. When I did suck it up and call her, she was at Wild Water and Wheels with her family! Boy, talk about feeling guilty. Not only did I cheat on my stylist, but I interrupted a fun day with her family.

She came by the house, to assess the damage, and all she could do was put her hand over her mouth. She never said "that's what you get for seeing another stylist"; she merely, with a chuckle in her voice, told me to come by the shop first thing Monday morning. She couldn't do anything there at the house, because she had none of her tools. I thought to myself that it was my just desserts for cheating on Susan with another stylist, that I would have to cool my heels until Monday.

When Monday came, though, Susan never said a word. I plopped myself down in her chair and she went to work, and ended up giving me one of the cutest haircuts I'd ever had. I swore then I'd never let anyone else touch my hair.

Tomorrow-- I shouldn't let me touch my hair, either.

Toodles!

Bounce! It's what Tiggers do best.

I woke up this morning with an unusual amount of energy. Strange, because I had absolutely none yesterday. In the amount of time it usually takes me to get ready in the mornings, I was able to get ready, do last night's dishes, PLUS burn two CDs for the Spring Musical. Righteous! I just don't know why I'm so bouncy this morning, but I'll take it! I hope this is a trend that continues.

Speaking of the Spring Musical, practice starts tonight. Naturally, I am pumped. I've been listening and making lessons plans since December 26, so I'm excited to see how the kids will respond to the music. It's not your mother's church musical. It's kinda rockin'. I've also decided to take a new approach to teaching the class. If it works out, I'll fill you all in on what happened. Well, even if it doesn't work out.

Let's see...what else is going on today? Oh! I know! Cathryn is testing for voice lessons Tuesday the 15th! The teacher told me that she was kind of on the young side, but if she tests well, she'll take Cathryn on as a student. Naturally, Cathryn is all kinds of excited about her "audition". We started practicing scales last night. This morning we began working on matching pitch to my voice, and on Thursday, we'll begin matching pitch to the piano.

I'm having a bad hair day. It started off looking so cute and wavy, and now it's bushy and I've had to pull it in a clip. *sigh* One day, my hair will shine like the sea.

But I want to end on a happy note, so I will conclude by saying that I haven't had a headache in two days! I'm being stupid about this, though--I'm carrying my medicine in my purse.

Toodles!