Friday, June 7, 2013

The sweet hair-after.

Last Sunday morning when I was getting ready to go for a run, I pulled my hair back into a pony tail. 
In doing this I realized my exercise routine was about to be altered.

It was time for me to take a sweaty detour into the Fred Meyer because there it was - the sparkle.
The "sparkle" that isn't fun. Or pretty. Or sparkly. It's more dull and flat and...umm...GRAY.

For me gray hair is like Christmastime - like when you can’t believe how quickly the year has gone by, and then here we are again. Except it is annoying and makes me realize that I have a good amount of gray hair. Kind of a lot of it. It also makes me realize that I’m getting old. And unlike Christmas, truthfully that’s not really fun. The top of my head looks like tinsel. Merry Christmas.

BEFORE.

So I grabbed my iPod, some cash, a coupon I had stashed away and shoved them all into the front of my sports bra and prayed that I wouldn’t run into any ex-boyfriends in line at Freddy’s all sweaty, stinky with no make up.

It still bugs me that I can't afford to go and see my favorite stylist Jeff at the salon for color anymore. Since going part-time at work, which is awesome, it's one of those luxuries I decided to cut, which is not awesome. My cut and colors with Jeff have simply become "cuts" which I refuse to ever give up. I will sell some plasma or let someone buy my eggs before anyone from Great Clips near my hair. (Sorry, Great Clips.) 

So off for my run I went, listening to the Adam and the Ants station on Pandora, running fast when "Prince Charming" came on and slowing down when "Wonderful" starts to play. I love you Adam Ant...

Anyway...it's a hot Sunday Portland morning and I'm a sweaty mess as I trudge up the hill up toward Fred Meyer. When I got inside I kept my silver head down and headed right for the hair color aisle and grabbed my Root Rescue by L'Oreal.

I've used this the last few times I've colored my roots, I like it a lot.

She blinded me with science...



Root Rescue only takes ten minutes! It said on the box to leave it on for fifteen minutes for "stubborn" grays - I left it on for twenty-five (whoops) and it covered it all up and didn't burn my head off.

AFTER.

Like I said, I do get annoyed that I don't have that hair-color-at-the-salon luxury any longer.
I miss that. I miss a glass of wine in the middle of the day, sitting under a steamy hot dryer 
blocking out the world with a bunch of US Weekly and OK Magazines.

But you know how I love a good deal and holy crap, look at this: 


That's right people, $4.79 to get my hair colored.

I used the self checkout to avoid reaching into my boobs to hand the cashier 
a sweaty ten dollar bill and even sweatier two-dollar-off coupon.  

The hair color box wouldn't fit in my sports bra so I just shoved the receipt in there and held the box
as I ran home up that hill as fast as I could. Best workout of the week. 

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