Orange is My Hair and I Dont Care

I finally took the plunge. It took a lot of courage and finger crossing and even a tiny prayer. But, I did it. A while back I brought some hair color to dye the grey. OK, so it wasn't that much at the beginning but a couple months after or so give or take the grey multiplied faster then my sons math problems. So, it had to be done. I went and fished out the box from my card box. Don't ask. I read all the directions twice and even called my best friend for a consultation over the phone. First thing she said when I sent her a picture of the box was "Oh, that's kinda light." I frowned and felt like a kid searching for something to say all I could come up with was "Well, I wanted light." Yeah, I told her. :-)  

I grabbed an old towel, changed into an old shirt cause the directions told me too. I mixed and shook the dye bottle and proceeded to apply it to my head and hair. I really couldn't tell if it was working or not as I stood in front of the bathroom mirrors hoping for the best. I then sat and waited 20 min like the box said. It said 40 min for more intense color but I figured 20 was long enough. I was anxious.

So, I washed it off in the kitchen sink and went to look in the mirrors again. It looked sort of light but I thought I would be able to tell more after it dried. So, blow dryer in hand I started drying.

My first clue something went wrong was when my 9 year son came into the room while I was drying my hair. He asked in horror what happened to my hair. I said what? Thinking that he was just not used to seeing me with big hair. He then looked confused and asked why I had orange hair now. I said to him no it can't be orange. He said I should go look. I did.

He was right. I did look like a carrot top. My mom said "Oh, its not so bad." As she laughed until tears started streaming from her eyes. I knew it was bad. All I could do was brush it into a ponytail and hopefully the orange would wear off sooner then later.

Today me and my brand new hair had to go get groceries mostly for my mom. I thought of digging out one of my sons baseball caps but I decided not to. I would wear my new mane proudly. I walked in the store proudly. 

As I was looking for the vanilla extract this young man said hello. I said hello back to be polite. So, he kept kind of looking at my hair. I was thinking oh brother here it comes my first comment about my reddish hair. I ceased in calling it orange when I got to the parking lot. So, he says he liked the color. Just when I was about to say thanks he finished his sentence with, "You are a nice looking older chick." Then he smiled and walked away. 

So, maybe this hair doesn't look too bad after all. For a good   looking older chick that is.