7:52 A.M.
Dying your hair can be a statement.
It can change the way people look at you entirely.
I learned this at a young age.
Sabrina and I used to lighten our hair back in grade school with lemon juice. The only flaw was having it turn green when we went swimming in her chlorine-saturated pool.
There was a time when my hair had been every color of the rainbow.
My hair color has brought me from one extreme to another. Dying my hair shades of red, green, or blue, got me grounded and kicked out of school for a week, while my blond lochs got me Vinny's phone number after graduation. (Vinny was a total hottie).
I remember I was a bit disenchanted when my sister was praised for coloring her hair the very same bright red that got me sent home from school.
My sister and her swim team decided that they would dye their hair the school colors to show their school spirit. The coach, teachers, and the principal were all about it.
I was like WTF man!?!
My hair has come a long way.
The decision NOT to dye it blue anymore came when I decided to conform to a more business type image.
I found it difficult to find a job with pink hair. No one wanted to hire me.
With this more professional image I still experiment with the blacks and reds, but lean a bit away from the turquoise and green shades.
I consciously thought about my hair color yesterday.
Bill (One of the owners of the company I work for) flew in from out of town and sort of complimented my hair when he walked into the office.
He walked up with a smile on his face, "Wow, Kell I almost didn't recognize you."
I started to wonder.
Why did I dye my hair blond again?
Does it actually add a ray of sunshine to my day?
Was it because my grandmother told me that it made me look like less of a hard ass?
Or was it because I like the color?
I still look at models in magazines with their dark lochs and think, "Yeah, today I'll go buy that bottle of black I've been missing!"
