Really? Already? Yes. Already. I got a voicemail on Thursday reminding me that I had a hair appointment on Saturday afternoon. I’d originally made the appointment for highlights and a haircut. Then, two things occurred to me–I don’t know what I’m doing this fall in terms of work! And–How can I read about all these chemicals to avoid, including food coloring, and then go and soak my head in them? Does anyone even know how long it takes these chemicals to leave my body? Will it matter that the dyed hair may not be grown out by the time I’m pregnant? Do I sound completely insane or just mildly neurotic?
Of course I knew that I would not want to dye my hair while pregnant. What never occurred to me was that I would have to get it dyed back to something resembling it’s natural color, make sure that the roots matched that color and, if not, get it done all over again. I tried just letting it grow out once, and it just made me hate looking in the mirror once the roots became truly obvious. And then there’s the money–I don’t do cheap haircuts. When things get tight, I can stop buying new clothes. I can give up going out to eat. I can go months without a hair cut. I cannot get a cheap haircut. Same goes for color. Badly dyed hair makes my skin crawl. The price tag on a good haircut plus a good set of highlights makes Nathan’s skin turn really, really, abnormally pale. I need to get my haircut in order to keep it healthy and looking nice. I do not need to dye it. My natural hair color is lovely–and it’s a medium brown. (Judy, you have, in fact, seen me without dyed hair.)
Today, therefore, I bid my highlights adieu. I had fun with a new set of straight-across bangs to take advantage of the drama of my darker hair agains my pale skin. But I will miss the highlights. I will miss making the appointments to get the highlights. I will miss watching my colorist make up some weird goop that magically turns segments of brown hair into shades of ash blonde. I will miss sipping cappuccino in the middle of the salon at the “Color Bar” with foils in my hair. I may even miss hearing complaints about the absence of good men for my colorist to date in the New Haven area. I will definitely miss having two to three salon employees examine my color and “ooh” and “aww” at the results. From now on, it’ll just be me and Trinity, the stylist who cuts my hair. I’ll come in quietly and leave quietly. But I am grateful for one thing–when I leave, it may be with less fanfare, but it will be after under one hour, not three.