Kind of like those people who eat so many carrots that their skin turns orange, but instead I guess I eat too many oranges and it effects my hair. And yes, this is possibly the longest blog title ever, thank you for asking.
On Wednesday night, I decided on a whim to buy hair dye. I haven’t in two years, since I dyed my hair purple (the box claimed it was WARM AUBURN!) and waited two months (and many, many washings) for it to look like this.
While at Walmart, I purchased this:
(Sorry, I don’t have any mad photo taking/editing skills to make this look fabulous. I had to dig this back out of the trash, so deal with it.) (Oh, and me digging this out of the trash inspired my dog to dig into the trash and eat four eggshells. But that’s neither here or there.) I told Shane I wasn’t sure if I was picking the box because of the hair color or because I thought the woman was super fine. Shane said both (hair color and sexy woman) were good.
I applied the color by myself (Yeah…I don’t know what I was thinking, either.) and accidentally left it in 25 minutes longer than the directions suggested. As soon as I stepped out of the shower, I knew something was wrong when the hair by my ears was looking rather fruitilicious. Lo and behold, after letting it air dry:
ORANGE HAIR, PEEPS.
Shane, of course, assured me that my hair didn’t look orange at all; the flash on my camera just reflected the light weird. But it’s Shane! Shane who ONLY wore khaki pants and heather gray tee-shirts with black tennis shoes until I started dating him. Clearly, what does Shane know about color? NOTHING. He tried to butter me up by showing me a picture of my lady-crush, insisting that my hair looks just like hers in this photo.
So, let’s move on, shall we? I was thinking, seeing as my blog is really lame lately, of blogging the story of how I met Shane (online) and fell in love with him five months before we met in person. Would that suffice for the time being?