autohairography: chapter twelve.

Below is a snippet of my hope-to-be-published memoir, Autohairography. If you know of a publisher that’s nice and likes quirky girls, please email me!

[image credit: kaarel nurk]

2001-02.
leaving my roots.

Alternatively titled: Living My Roots. You see, as prepared as I was for my STINT as the main character in Erin Loechner: The College Years, I was quite misinformed as to the level of poverty I was embarking on. I use the term ‘poverty’ loosely, of course, as I had a warm bed, good food and a warm bed. What I did not have was the extra funds for a trip to the local salon.

And what I did have was the remnants of a very blonde, very highlighted summer ‘do. So I summoned the ladies on my floor and we ventured to WalMart to find a nice DIY kit. And by nice, I mean cheap. I don’t remember much of the brand we chose, only that it possessed an 80’s Glamour shot on the front, which should have been the first sign.

The second sign should have been the “Ash” in the description. “Ash blonde” to be exact.

The third sign? I was now the youngest member of The Golden Girls foursome.

I went to class the next day despite my premature gray hair and remember the look of utter horror on one of my professor’s faces. So I rinsed and repeated the entire process and shelled out another $6.99 for Delilah’s Glamour Shot.

This time, sans “Ash.”

And this time, the results were sans gray. But plus green.

I now had clown hair; streaky and mighty frightening.

Rinse and repeat.

Third time’s a charm. My hair was a bit redder than natural, but I was finished. And Delilah’s Glamour Shot was smiling back at me, pleased by my hair’s tenacity.

It’s no wonder, then, that I fondly recall my first year of college not as “The Freshman 15” in terms of weight gain, but in terms of attempted hair dyes.