This was written February 29th. Blog spot was giving me issues so I posted it on myspace. I've decided to move it here where it belongs, even though it's out of order...
My hair is now brown. It was pink. Kinda orange too. With blonde streaks....
Ok, so let me explain. Two months ago I used a hair color that must've been WAYYY too old 'cuz it turned my hair a moldy green color instead of the ash blonde that it describe on the box. My remedy to that was to bleach it as white as I could get it. Then, my roots turned an almost golden orange for a few days. The rest of my hair was fried. Beyond "hair" recognition.
This past Wednesday morning I get up & decide I want to go strawberry blonde for awhile. Well, my fried hair decided it wanted to be pink, orange, and streaky blonde. Not cool for a 28 year old going to job interviews. I had to go to a salon & have it "fixed". She said it would take two sessions & at least $80 for a correct fix. I said fuck that, as long as it's not orange or pink I don't care what color it is! So, it's now two toned, copper roots & the rest is ash colored. Ahhh me! I shouldn't be allowed to spend my own money. It's hazardous!
Lately I've been randomly meeting people from past parts of my life. Tuesday night I ran into a girl that I went to CN with. I don't remember her, she doesn't remember me, but we know some of the same people so we chatted all night at work. Nice to chat about some of the same peeps.
Wednesday I literally ran into a guy at King Gyros. I stopped & had to blurt out, "Didn't you go to 'Busco? And didn't you go to church at Sugar Grove?" Oddly enough, I was right. I even remembered his name was Andy. But that was all I could remember. And he had no idea who I was. So the conversation ended & I went on my quirky little way.
Thursday as I walked into work my boss says, "Hi Triana, how was your day?" ~ his usual greeting. I go into the kitchen, punch in & grab my daily "paperwork" to get started. I hadn't noticed a new customer sitting midway down the bar; just the usuals sitting at my end of the bar. Out of no where she loudly asks "hey, did you go to 'Busco?" (Must be a good line ...) I replied with a "kind of..."
This is where it gets good.
She tells me that her & I used to be BEST friends; that her mom has a picture of us in the second grade together on the swing set. She tells me her name. NOPE. Not ringing a bell. I have a very good memory, especially if I actually had a friend in grade school. I would remember that shit.
Are you still reading? 'Cuz it gets better.
I said, nope, you must have the wrong chic. She says in a matter-of-fact tone, "I've never heard anyone else with that name" (good point) "and you used to have blonde hair, so blonde it was almost white" (yes, up until yesterday...) "and you used to wear cowboy boots to school everyday."
Uh oh. I ducked behind the bar, red faced, as at this point all eyes are on me & everyone is chuckling. The sort of slow rumbling chuckle that quickly bursts into all out laughter.
It was momentarily almost like one of those dreams where you walk into school and everyone is laughing, then you realize they're laughing AT YOU 'cuz your naked.
I was just stripped of my self confidence. For one quick minute, I was flushed back into the painstaking embarrasment of elementary school. Of the geeky, shy, nerd that hid in the shadows of Churubusco's halls for nine precious years, afraid to be noticed lest I be shoved into yet another locker or beat up in gym class or laughed at for wearing cowboy boots to school. Thanks mom.
This time though, I stood up to the laughter. Yes, that was me. I wore boots.
Cruel irony: Now the guys think it's hot & want me to wear boots to work. Yowza! That would hurt like hell & I would slip all over that damn tiled floor at work!
I was even asked if I would wear cowboy boots to bed! Life never makes sense.
The Tao of unsaying
3 months ago