What do hair dye and driving have in common?

Did I tell you? Did I tell you?

I dyed my hair blue!

I’ve been talking about it since I was 16. I should have done it at 16. Blue hair looks at its very best at 16.

After a certain age, blue hair no longer looks good. It only looks stupid. And since I was turning 30 last month, I felt it was now or never.

So, anyways, I figured I might as well do it.

I bleached the last 6 inches or so of hair, twice, with peroxide 40. My hair is very thick and black; it never went under dirty blonde.

Then, the dye was applied, with heat and a long waiting time, because the stylist was worried it might turn out green. (Noooo! I want gothic blue, not emo green! ) The other stylists were taking bets on what color it would turn.

Then, the unveiling…

It was blue. (Whew!)



First time I washed my hair, it bled like it was dying, and thank goodness the shower-tiles are blue-green, ‘cause it stained like crazy. But no biggie, it is clean now, and it no longer bleeds so badly. (Bled blue, of course, so I feel entitled to say I am certified nobility.)

I have a bottle of blue for when I need to retouch. And Oh,God! I will need to retouch. I am losing color constantly. Last week I stained blue the back of a gray t-shirt because I was wearing a ponytail and my hair touched it.

Why can’t they make a permanent, really permanent blue?


After this, two things might happen:

1- I could get it out of my system and dye it back to black. All returns to normal. Or…

2- I could lose all fear of unnatural colors, and next thing you knew, I would be sporting a tie-dyed Mohawk.

I am considering, in a few months or so, dyeing more of it blue, leaving only a bit in black.

But I’m cool as of now. I am happy with it. Glad to get the nerve. Pleased with the results.

Just to show how screwed up my priorities are right now, last thing I will mention is the driving class I took.

Teacher was very nice looking.

Very, very nice looking.

A hunk.

I will not mention it again.

I just had to express my appreciation of the kind of eye-candy he is.

That’s it.

Anyways, he took me to a suburb to practice my turns. And by “he took me” I mean he told me where to turn. I drove there.

Turns out I have trouble staying in my lane.

I do not have measurements quite figured out yet. I tried to avoid the potholes, only to fall straight into them.

And I forgot once which was the brake and which the gas. (I stopped the car at an intersection, but the engine sounded revved up. My teacher tapped me on the knee and said: “Up!” He had stopped the car; I had accelerated. )

In any case, it went OK, and he told me that considering it was the first time, it went quite well.

It made my day.

Next week we will be going to the beach, taking a long, one-lane road he says he finds useful in teaching people to stay in their lane.

You either stay in your lane, or you take to the sand.

I’m a bit scared, but what the hell!

I figure driving is a bit like dyeing your hair in a totally unnatural color.

It is best done at 16, but really any age is better than not doing it at all.