New Version of me

#14 is in the bag

(Let my hair lady do whatever she wants)

When I was explaining this particular goal to my father, he was confused. "I don't understand, why would you want to be someone's guinea pig?" 

But that's not what this is about. See. . . .Mary has some minor (heh-heh) issues with control and trust. This hair exercise is a way to let go and completely trust someone with something as important as hair. That being said, it is just hair (although my fab hair lady hates when I say that!), and mine grows really fast, plus, I'm still young enough that I can rock any hair style. 

Ergo, I entered that saloon last night rather fearlessly (pushing those panicky, nervous feelings of wanting to puke deeeeep down). Then I sat back and enjoyed the experience of making a new Mary--one snip of the scissors at a time.

Hair Lady: "Have you decided what we're going to do?"

Me: "Have YOU decided what we're going to do...?"

Hair Lady: "Ready for a change?"

Me: "Yes!"

Hair Lady: "Okay. You're going to walk out the complete opposite of how you walked in."

Then the scissors (and razor) came out....

I probably lost about 6 inches in the back, less in the front. The brown dye was on for about 15 minutes, but only the top of my head. We were going for the "Ombre" look.....which I'd never heard of, but of course I recognized once it was explained. (and yes, I believe Jen Aniston had it at one time.)

long, loooong strands of Mary going bye-bye

the sneak preview I posted on FaceBook last night (note the "ombre")

the "bathroom mirror" shot right when I got home

at work this morning

I love the fun, fresh new look. It was time. True, I feel a bit like I'm wearing a disguise, sleuthing around, and I should probably change my name to something like Sasha for a while. Nonetheless, I rate the experience a perfect 10.

hair

Today is the big day. The hair appointment!
This......is the picture I've been taking to my fabulous hair lady for the past four years. We usually come away with some form of bob. Sometimes wispy bangs, sometimes longer length, layers, no layers, sometimes lowlights instead of highlights. We went chocolaty brown last year, which was an awesome change!

I used to color my own hair when I was poor and could barely afford the wierdos at Supercuts. My home dye-jobs were usually blonde and brassy and uneven. I've gone red a few times, too. But those were unintentional. You know the color of a shiny copper penny? That was me for a few months back in college. And there are a few occasion when I went dark. Really dark. Once, after a botched attempt to pull off a "Joey Potter" (because, obviously, all I needed was brown hair and...voila!), I left the dye on too long. My sister called me "Madam." Nice. Thanks.

I've got this conservative "lob" (long bob) now, and have had the same cut since January. (This pic was taken yesterday at Sonic--simply commemorating the event of being at Sonic.) I think it's time for a change. Nothing too drastic--I tried that last time, and fabulous hair lady took one look at the torn out magazine picture I presented and said, "No. No way." She knows my hair, what will work and what I'll end up hating...which is invaluable, by the way. She did give me two red racing stripes, however. And that's pretty freaking rock star.
So anyway, I have no idea what we'll end up with at around 5:30 tonight. But I can't help but wonder how Jen Aniston is wearing her hair these days...

Doppelgänger

Last week, I was riding down the elevator with brand new Summer Intern.


Me: (with big, friendly grin) “Hey.”
Summer Intern: “Hi! I’ve been meaning to tell you all week…you totally remind me so much of…”
Me: (mouth opening, about to inturrupt with, "Yeah, yeah...Jennifer Aniston. I know, I know, I get that allll the time!" (Okay, maybe not "all the time," but more than once.) Not a bad comparison, of course--girl friend's got the best hair ever.)
But before I could properly inturrupt with the celebrity name that has become somewhat expected to me, Summer Intern finished her statement with…)
“…Kirstie Alley.”
Me:
Summer Intern: (nervous laugh at my dropped jaw silence)
Me: “Oh.” (blinking, with not-as-friendly grin) “From Cheers?”
(Summer Intern is nineteen. She’s never seen Cheers.)
Summer Intern: “No, no, from Dancing with the Stars."
Me:
Summer Intern: "But I mean...a much slimmer version, of course!”
I have no idea what to do with this information. What do you think, Kirstie?