It’s been so long and I wish I had a better reason, but I don’t. So instead of bemoaning the fact that I am a horrible blogger (I’ve come to terms with that!) why don’t we continue on with a horrible tale of woe featuring the ol’ Kate-ster in all her awkward glory from a few months ago?
Let us begin.
There comes a day in every young Katelyn’s life when she decides that the best thing she can do, is take something good in her life and completely ruin it. In this case, the thing to ruin was my hair.
I figured since my hair was so dark, almost black, that I would lighten it with a hair bleaching kit. My logic was as follows.
It took me two boxes and two hours to finish ‘stripping’ my hair so I could dye it again a nice light brown. Sure, it looked a bit strange when I washed it, sure some hair came out, and sure it had a weird greenish tinge to it, but I figured it was just the light. So I went and blow dried it, sure to find out what the color would truly look like.
And that’s when I saw it.
Yes guys. I had dyed it about four different colors. Black, blonde at some roots, red at others and GREEN everywhere else. Terrifying and completely inappropriate for my workplace. And so, in a logical aged-27-so-I’m-mature-now way, I acted in the most appropriate manner.
I cried.
I cried so much, so long, and so loudly at my husband that he felt compelled to try and help me.
Our anniversary was in a week and so he decided he would get me a present even though we’d agreed against presents that year. He decided it was a good idea to buy me a chance to get my hair professionally done. And I jumped at that opportunity.
I ran into the nearest reputable hair dying location and literally prostrated myself in front of the old woman behind the chair, clutching my hair in dramatic horror and begging her help.
She shook her head at my foolishness and spent the next three hours trying to restore my brittle, wheat-like hair back to a manageable lustre. And to her credit, the hairdresser was AMAZING. If you are ever in the lower mainland and need to get your hair done well – message me!
I was in love with my hair. And I mean in love. I Instagram-ed the s*** out of that stuff. Like people care. But people also Instagram photos of their food and their sneakers by leaves and stuff, so I felt like it fit right in. Not enough snails on Instagram however… and I love snails.
I digress.
The months passed and so one day I found my beautiful new auburn locks were…suddenly lacking. And there was major root-age. MAJOR. It’s like every day is fine and then I wake up and BAM, I AM A NINETY YEAR OLD WOMAN with so many gray hairs its depressing. Grossness. Turning 27 has not been kind. And I thought that this was the best possible solution.
TO DYE IT AGAIN MYSELF. YES, THAT WAS THE FIRST THOUGHT I HAD. Somewhere my husband was cringing and not knowing why. Below is an accurate depiction of what that would look like.
Bottom line:
Hopefully the next post will be more timely! I hope you enjoyed the latest installment!
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