July 31: Bleach spots

 Sometime in there, I thought it would be fun to put some streaks in my hair. I was going to dye it jet black and then put in some lemon yellow bits. Black and yellow has always been my favourite colour combination and I thought it would be a cool look to complement me as I navigated my mid 20s.

Only part of it worked. I succeeded in dying my hair jet black - it was so black that it had a blue sheen like Veronica Lodge's always does in the Archie strips - but the yellow streaks just made part of my hair look like it had been dipped in lemon juice.

I complained about it to a professional stylist, who told me I had to bleach my hair first. She offered to do it for me for about $200.

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My hair is grey now. I tend to dye it before I'm set to perform a bunch of school shows; I like to look as young as possible for them. But buggabugga has taken school shows from me and I can't afford hair dye right now anyway. The people I know tell me I look better with grey, that I should embrace my age, etc. I think they're wrong. I prefer the dark brown of my youth and I know I'll go that route again when the opportunity presents itself.

It's a choice my dad has never agreed with. "Just go grey," he advises me. My dad is a wise man and he might be wise about that, but his silly son, in this case, will embrace the foolishness of vanity.

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I bleached my hair once. This was in December of 2007. My hair had tonnes of bleach spots and I looked a bit like Christopher Walken did in A View to a Kill. I asked a friend if she liked my hair and she paused a bit and said "it's okay" and that meant that she didn't like it. 

I have decided that I do not look good as a blonde.

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If anyone ever had to deal with bleach spots, it was surely Cyndi Lauper. For quite some time in the 80s, that girl looked like she dyed her hair as often as I change my underwear, which is four times a year. One week her hair would be red as a fire engine. The next it would be yellow like lemons.

Then there was the time I spilled bleach on my quilt. My girlfriend at the time told me that the bleach spots were permanent, that they would never come out, but that didn't phase me too much. I knew that the quilt would still keep me warm, even if there were a few blotches on it. I was right about that. It kept me toasty. Evidently, I don't feel the same way about quilts and my hair.


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