A little nook where I share my daily trifles and epiphanies, my work, and my insignificant musings about being alive.
Saturday, July 28, 2012
Since I don't want to keep the suspension overnight for my pal Jan, here it is:
I know. I know. What a letdown, right? Across the green earth, people dye their hair everyday. My little sister, originally a blackhead just like me, has been chestnut blonde since I don't remember when. This last trip to China saw me among the minority of black-headed fellow native women. Another Asian-American girl assured me (during one of my consultation sessions) that I just couldn't "mess up" black hair. In order for that to happen, you have to bleach it first. I called another friend, an Asian red-head, for a second (or third, fourth...) opinion, who said pretty much the same thing: go ahead, you will be fine...Yet, none of these, seemed to have helped easing the nail-bitings and nerve losses. I was mortified to imagine myself looking like the girl on the commercial color box minus the Caucasian complexion and blue eyes. Two days after blowing the first bottle (how I won't tell, for your benefit, so that if you happen to be eating or drinking, you're spared of the danger of choking, which happened to my Texas friend when I phoned), I got up the nerves and resumed the plan, came out of it unscathed.
Actually, I'm a happy camper, as you can see in the photo.