The Curse of the Dirty Blonde Hair

I want to go darker - I'm thinking my natural color, brown, with gold tinted hilights. Think "warm", I said to my beloved colorist. This man has been keeping my golden tresses golden for the last 8 years. "But, Holly, you are not brown, your hair is blonde." I look at him, shocked, and point to the 3 inches of roots crowning the top of my noggin. "Look at this, this is SO brown - look how dark it is. UGH, and look at all those grey hairs gleaming at us. We HAVE to get rid of those too". He bends his very dark hair down close to my head to force the comparison. "My hair is brown" he tells me. "You, my dear, are a blonde". and there lies the curse of the dirty blonde. actually, the term dishwater blonde really is the better descriptor. My original hair color does has the same hue as water that has had lunch scoured off the plates and the soap bubbles have fizzled to nothing . to me, the color is reminicent of camping. You have just finished cleaning up the hobo dinner mess (because you have to save that alumnim foil to use again) and you sling that yucky water as far as you can without actually leaving the perimeter of your campsite. A lovely greyish/brownish/whitesh hue. and it is all mine.

apparantly it would look really weird if my roots grew in lighter than the rest of my hair, so a lovely shade of chestnut brown was instantly nixed. Could it look any stranger than my multi-month grown of dark roots contrasted against the straw yellow hair below. i saw an article in In Style or Vogue or some other fashionable magazine showing several photos of hot young starlets declaring "roots are in". I figured if Kristen Dunst could go a couple of months without a touch up then I could push it a few more too.

So after 2 hours of striping and foiling and heating lamping, I am back to my original shade of dirty blonde hair with highlights and lowlights and gloss. i would say that I am excited to experience life as a non-blond. But apparantly I am blond and always will be. i guess now when people apoligize after making a blonde joke, I can no longer point at my roots and say "I'm not blond - I only pay to be this way"

Weight Watchers is one of the most successful and respected weight loss programs in the world. Their simple "points" tracking system and focus on "filling foods" (basically, anything that only has one ingredient: apple, turkey, tomato) and support network have helped millions of people lose unwanted pounds and keep it off. It is also my program of choice. This brings me to my question. Why do so many people EAT during the Weight Watchers meeting? Saturday after saturday I see people step off the scale then proceed to unpack their meal of choice. You cannot imagine what comes out of those New York City tote bags. You know those bags we all carry with our wallet, water bottle, latest InStyle magazine, book of the week, lip balm and apparantly, food for weight watchers meetings. Is it a form of rebellion? The evil scale sits behind the desk, watching slowly as the line shuffles forward. Once their turn to face the beast, they climb on and hold their breath. Will it be Victory? Or Defeat? no matter how many times our fearless leader tells us "it's not about the scale, its about how you live" we all know that it IS about the scale and our day can crash in an instant if the evil scale belches out a higher number then it did the week before. Once they have conquered the scale, for better or worse, the assume their seat for the meeting. then the unpacking begins: fruit, yogurt, egg sandwich, hard boiled egg - needing to be peeled-and cans of tunafish. I almost expect a tablecloth and silverwear to join the plastic containers on display. Are they saying, "ha ha! i made it through the week, I starved myself all day on friday, and now that I have faced the beast at 9:30 Saturday morning - I can eat!" Or is it defiance - "Yes I need to lose weight, I know that. But I also have the self confidence to pull out an egg sandwich and eat it for the world to see." Or maybe they feel that the WW meeting is a safe place, where they can feel comfortable eating in public because everyone is there for the same reason and there is no judgement. I have to admit, I am proud of those people and just a little jealous that they are comfortable enough to plow through a bagel and container of fruit during the 45minute meeting. i personally don't like to eat in public, except in a restaurant. I feel like people are watching me eat my sandwhich and wondering why I am eating the sandwich, since I obviously don't need to. So die hard Weight Watcher meeting eaters - rejoice in your self confidence, just please don't let your egg shell land in my lap again.