As in hot hot hot red hot. I think we've got a documented trend on our hands, or rather, on our heads with this ombre dyed event. She laughed when I asked if she had done this herself (this is foreshadowing, English majors). Uhhh, no. Her friend, a registered professional, first applied bleach with a brush, concentrating it at the ends, with less and less going northward. Then she employed a similar scheme with the red dye #47. I love the kodachrome intensity and, like my mullet, the options it presents. Can't commit to a whole head of red? Fine end dandy (somebody stop me).
And speaking of my mullet (here's where foreshadowing becomes all too real), after three seconds of careful consideration, I outed with some sewing scissors and went from long and luscious Barry Manilow...
to Davy Jones making a comeback at Mystic Lake Casino. Dennis reported with brutal honesty that there is indeed a big chunk missing out of the back, but that's everyone else's problem. I've got enough going on trying to decide if tucking it behind the ears makes me look more or less likely to commit sins #7 - 14. Here's the thing about DIY hair: It's hard to know when to stop. That's why, all of a sudden, you can see my esophagus and all those stringy tendons in my neck. And reportedly, the back of my cranium.
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