How (Not) To Dye Your Hair for BlogHer

No one needs to do anything with their hair for BlogHer. I know this. Goodness knows I've not always done stuff with my hair for conferences in the past and yet I convinced myself that OMG I NEEDED TO DYE MY HAIR. Here's how (not) to dye your hair for BlogHer, the Sassymonkey edition.

Step One: Be stressed about everything but especially about things you can't control.

Step Two: Have a rotten day.

Step Three: Consider taking up drinking as a recreational activity. Decide not to. Your liver thanks you.

Step Four: Look in mirror. Frown. Wonder how the hell it is that your have more skin problems in your 30s than you ever did in your teens.

Step Five: Contemplate hair. Examine length of roots in mirror. Try to remember last time you got your hair done. Draw a blank. Frown at roots.

Step Six: Go to computer and pull up stylist's page. Look at prices. Do math. You could get your hair done OR you and your husband could go out to eat two times (possibly three if you were really careful) times in NYC. Decide you'd rather have noms than evenly coloured hair.

Step Seven: Look at hair in mirror again. Frown. Remind yourself again no one cares about your hair except you.

Step Eight: Ask Twitter what home hair kits they recommend because you have not dyed your own hair since circa 2008. Assume things have changed since them.

Step Nine: Google home hair dye kit reviews.

Step 9.5: Switch to numerals instead of writing out steps because you are damned wordy and see no point in doing something in 5 steps when you can take 20 30 40.

Step 10: Pretend to not care about hair. Work.

Step 11: Have computer completely freeze for second day in a row. Shut it down and pray it restarts. Explain to it that it is not allowed to die.

Step 12: Find husband. Explain that you are going to buy hair dye. Because changing the colour of your hair will magically MAKE ALL THE THINGS BETTER.

Step 13: Acknowledge that making hair decisions on such a day is probably not a smart idea. Decide you don't care.

 

Step 14: Stand in aisle at store attempting to decide which shade to get. Red, of course. Always red. But coppery red? Bold red? Dark auburn?

Step 15: Eliminate coppery red. The last time you were coppery red and in the same place as Blondie people kept confusing you. Because all redheads looks alike. Except not.

Step 16: Decide on the rich red. It says "true red" on box. Think you would like something to be true this week.

Step 17: Get home and realize that you have long since thrown away the tank top that you used to wear when dying your hair. Modify old t-shirt by cutting off the neck and sleeves. Realize it is swag from a previous BlogHer and decide this is a good sign.

Step 18: Assemble everything in bathroom. Everything includes hair dye kit, old towels, iPhone, book and glass of wine.

Step 19: Take everything out of box. Think that you don't remember it being this complicated last time. Take drink of wine.



Step 20: Decide that paper towels would be a smart idea.

Step 20.5: Think this is making for a long blog post. Decide you don't care because you haven't updated your blog in two months and no one reads it anyway. How could they? There's nothing to read.

Step 21: Mix thing the things that need to be mixed. Pat self on back for decision to get paper towels because you totally spilled some of the very, very red colour booster.

Step 22: Think that your hair dye looks a lot like cherry kool-aid. Or possibly the pig's blood they used in Carrie. Worry that you will end up looking like an emo rave kid. There is nothing wrong with emo rave kids but well, raves are late at night when you'd rather be sleeping.



Step 23: Spent 15 minutes applying dye, cursing, making a mess, using a lot of paper towels and really, really hoping that you are applying it evenly.

Step 24: Clean up mess. Mostly. It is possible you left a stain on the floor.

Step 25: Decide that next bathroom will have black floor tiles. And a black countertop. And black everything. Black doesn't stain.

Step 26: Set timer. Tweet.

Step 27: When timer goes off step into shower while still wearing t-shirt and the towel draped around your shoulders because you think that will help eliminate making more mess.

Step 28: Congratulate yourself on having a black shower curtain liner. NO STAINS.

Step 29: Rinse out hair and shampoo twice with supplied shampoo. Because the instructions told you to. They also say that this will prevent stains on your towels even though you know this is a lie because hello, CHERRY KOOL-AID.

Step 30: Wish you had a handheld shower head attachment because you keep getting the stupid shampoo in your eye.

Step 31: Apply conditioner and wait two minutes to rinse because the instructions told you to. Marvel at way supplied conditioner makes your hair feel like silk, which you know is a big fat lie because you just fried the crap out of it with chemicals.

Step 32: Get out of shower. Confirm that yes, there are now new stains on your old towel. Stupid LYING BOX.

Step 33: Clean bathroom.

Step 34: Dry hair.

Step 35: Convince yourself that the unevenness of dye job make it look more natural. Less well covered spots are lowlights. FANCY!

Step 36: Bug husband. Make him take photo.

Step 37: Make him retake photo. Move to sunnier spot. Make him take photo again. Curse him for taking so bloody long to push the darned button on the iPhone because it makes you have a forced smile and look like a goof.

Step 38: Give up on photos. Go with one that makes you look goofy.



Step 39: Pretend hair does not look like cherry Kool-Aid. Much.

Step 40: Find something else to stress about.