Cat>Children and Hair Dye>Mud

One of my favorite books that I was introduced to my freshman year of college is Looking for Alaska.  The book is definitely a tear jerker, but one of the lines that made me emotional most likely is one that most readers just probably giggle at a little and then carry on.  I can't remember exactly who the quote is referring to, but I would guess it's the "superficial" girls who spend too much time worrying about their hair.  Meh.

"They love their hair because they're not smart enough to love something more interesting."

I read this and distinctly remember having to pause and contemplate the statement.  Yes, I realize it's a fictional book, but it hit me hard.  I love  my hair.  Obviously, I have days when I question why I don't shave my head because A) it would save me so much more time and B) it would save me money.  And then there's those evenings when you're getting ready and aiming for one hair style and you honestly believe your hair is working against you just to increase frustration and make you burn yourself with the straightener so everyone thinks you got a massive hickey.  This is when I start to curse my split ends for frizzing up or those kinks that suddenly seem permanent.
Cue Mom's infamous quote, "You should be happy you have hair.  Some people don't."  Irrelevant, Mother.  I never said I wasn't happy having hair.  I'm just unhappy with the hair I have in this moment.  Besides, she literally uses that quote for anything I complain about.

Me:  "Why is Vincent (our cat that mom loves over all of her children combined) biting my toes?  I think they're bleeding now."
Mom:  "You should be happy he even comes home to us when we let him outside during the day." 

Seriously?

He comes home to us because you feed him and let him sleep in your king size bed.  And if we don't let him in he does this at our kitchen window.  Take your pick.

Master Vincent letting his slaves know he's ready to come inside.

Back to the hair thang, I have been dying my hair and chopping it up in different ways since middle school.  Highlights, black hair, platinum blonde, strawberry blonde, light brown, dark brown, blue streaks, and bleach streaks.  I get bored.  And when my life feels like I have no control over it for longer than a few days this is when I do something extreme.  It's been a while since I've done anything to my hair besides trims and I'm finally seeing a good chunk of my natural color.  Poop brown.  No it's not that bad, probably more like a bright, late spring, muddy after a big rainfall color.   I mentioned to my mom a couple weeks ago that I'm going to go darker for winter.  She was all like NO GROW OUT YOUR NATURAL COLOR UNTIL YOU GRADUATE I'LL GIVE YOU 50 BUCKS IF YOU DO IT.  Because these kind of offers I come across everyday?!  Deal.  I will do most things for some money.  If anyone wants to offer $50+ to do something different to my hair, I'm open for discussion.  I'm currently in the stage where the first third of my hair is muddy bright brown and the rest of my hair is a mix of the past years.  So I'm currently spending my days presenting my mood and style via the hair I'm portraying.  That definitely made it sound like I want people to look at my hair and judge it every time I see it.  But let's get real, I think I actually style my hair 2-3 times a week.  So you can judge me daily if you'd like, but you will assume I'm homeless and poor and don't own shampoo. *gross*.  Anyways, If I'm accenting the left over bleach streak shades you know shit is getting real insane in my personal life.  If my bangs are down properly the whole day it means I got really lucky when I woke up that morning.  No, I didn't get laid, the bangs just laid(layed?) well.

xxxx

A