Burn, Motherfucker, Burn

I actually have a list of topics and stuff that happened that I plan to blog about in the near future. Some of them are tough, some are kinda lame, but hopefully all are interesting.

I'm not going to write on any of those now because I have something else to write on. Something which I did today, which is really fucking cool.

I dyed my hair.

Yes, I know, I've done it often enough before, so what's the big deal now?

The big deal is that it's really the first time that it looks just the way I want it to.

It's also the first time I spent so much on my hair. No cheap-ass neighborhood salons this time, nosiree. I did it at Reds this time, and paid an unprecedented (at least for me) S$200.

Is there some correlation between the amount I pay and the satisfaction I get?

Am I really happy with the color or am I forcing myself subconsciously to be happy just because I paid so much for it?

I dunno, I just know that for the first time in my life my dye job is a wonderful color that I'm very very happy with.

It's an ash grey. A really cool grey. I am amazed at how cool I look. And how superficial I can be.

Of couse, I think I got suckered into buying some expensive shampoo and conditioner, shelling out S$60 for the two, but after spending so much on the color, I kinda want it to stick around for a while.

The sad thing is, I was told by my Friendly Hairstylist Leo that I couldn't go swimming. Not if I wanted the color to stay. In his words, "Once you step in the water, the chlorine will wash out the color, and it will change. Into what, I don't know."

Was there a time limit on this, I asked. No, came the answer. I was devastated. I depend on swimming for exercise because I hate running, and it also gives me a tan. Perhaps I'm going to have to convert to being a runner instead. Or swim with my head above water all the time like a fucking dog.

I would post a picture so everyone can revel in my newfound coolness, but unfortunately my no-good brother has taken my digital camera to Shanghai. Without my Crumpler case and Canon lens adapter and lens cap. I called him up the day after and screamed at him for destroying my camera, as he inevitably would wihout any protection. He lamely argued that he put it in a Ziploc bag with lots of air as cushioning. Bullshit. If he breaks it he gets me a new one.

Besides the price tag, the coolness came with another price - excrutiating pain. I thought I was tough. After all, I'd had a tattoo, and hadn't felt anything when the doctor froze my warts. Unfortunately, I was wrong.

The first bleach went ok, I didn't feel a thing. The second one kinda stung a little. When it came time to apply the color I was told that it might sting more than the bleach. Leo asked if I wanted to put some lotion on my scalp to make it less painful. I didn't see the need to. He smeared some coloring on the back of my head as a test. It was a good test, since he'd put it on a part where the hair was the thinnest.

Three seconds later I was screaming like a girl.

Actually, I wasn't, but I came pretty close. My exact words were "Oh-KAY. NOW I'm feeling it. Oh wow. Dammit. DAMMIT."

I was rushed to rinse off the damn thing. Another hairstylist laughed at me. Fucking bitch. Lotion was applied. And then care was taken not to put the color on the scalp. Yet.

When most of the hair was done, they started on the scalp. It burnt, God, did it burn. My entire head was on fire, I was drumming my feet on the ground, thumping the arms of the chair with my hands, making strange guttural noises. After they finished applying everything, I rushed out for a cigarette, hoping to distract myself from the flaming inferno that was my head. It worked, kind of. Five minutes later I got used to the pain somewhat and actually managed to sit through the entire ten minutes that was needed for the color to take effect.

Twenty minutes later, after a Color Saver treatment, the entire process was completed. It had taken four whole hours from the time I'd walked through the doors of the salon. I'd downed three cups of tea and two packs of biscuits, read an issue of Men's Health, and half the screenplay of Jacob's Ladder (I completed the writer's notes and afterword though).

Now my scalp still feels like someone tied a huge rubber band around my head and cut off the circulation. It's somehow numb and throbbing and tight at the same time. Bizarre.

Anyway I'm looking forward to going to work tomorrow and seeing the look on everyone's faces as they view The Hair for the first time. I love days like these.