Tuesday, September 21, 2010

Mighty Morphin Power Ranger!

I used to be platinum.  And pinkimum.... and cardamom...

I mean, who the hell did I think I was??

You may remember this peatarded collage from my ilovepeas xanga days.  HAHA!  Remember xanga?  I was about 19 or 20 yrs old in this blast from the plast.  I look at this and wonder how i went to class with pink hair.  And how i managed a shag like that (i think i used wax?)  My sister cut my hair into that shag bob in college because i hated my long, curly hair at the time.  She didn't even use shears, she used those regular orange scissors.

I started club hopping at a wee age, around 16 yrs old.  I'd glam up and get into my tightest, bootiest revealingest dress, get to the club early, walk around like I owned the place, and then slowly slide into the cashier position and start collecting cover cash (so, so BAD!)  If anyone asked me what I was doing or whether or not I worked there, I'd stare them down like they were the world's biggest idiot, roll my eyes, and continue doing what I was doing. Obviously,  I was a very naughty clubkid. 

Sidenote:  being platinum is so much work.  The bleach.  The pain.  Did i mention the pain?  I never stayed at the salon for less than 5 hours, once every 3 wks.  Thinking about it now, I don't know how I had the patience to maintain it for as long as I did.

anDEN, one day I woke up and...POOF.

 I guess I thought that flipping a 180 would tame me.  My bf at the time sure did.  

Sorta.  To my grandparents and adults i was a better girl and more likely to be successful and find a good husband and all that zzzzzzz.  But inside, i felt like the same wacky Peabrain, only not as comfy in my skin.  Not that having dark hair wasn't fun or anything, but i missed the old me, and i felt like i didn't stand out anymore.  It took a lot of excitement out of my life, as lame as that sounds.  Plus, i felt like i had to tone down my personality to match my looks.  i was a sad pea and felt restricted and muted, just like i did while i was going out with my last boyfriend.  Disclaimer:  black hair isn't boring, btw.  i'm just reDICK and not used to it.  And it goes to show how stupid little superficial things like a gal's HAIR could have such an affect on how she feels about herself.  It's almost like gender roles or sumpthing. *shrugs* 

My sister already mentioned in a previous post...we weren't those kiddos that got jobs when we turned 16... except that 4-day stint at Putt Putt Golf and Games when i was a freshman in high school.  Work just wasn't our thing.  We're not spoiled or anything.  Honest.  Mum just thought it was best for us to focus on school.  So she never taught us the value of a dollar or what it means to work.  Now we know because we're older and reality has totally smacked me over the head, especially now that i'm out on my own.  And ever since i've been gypsying about on my own, a lot of people in the biz have told me that nobody will ever take me seriously if i don't tone it down and darken my locks.  Yes, my hair is a big deal and yes, i need to dye it! etc. etc... 

I considered it... and went darker.  Maybe everyone's right.  Maybe i have to.  I have to change me to be just right.  That lasted for about a month and i went back to my old hair again.  Not the crazy platinum of my extreme youth, but the dirty blonde/ash light brown i have today.  A compromise.  My light hair makes me oh so heppy.  HAHA.   And I can honestly and confidently say that I am a mixture of blonde and brunette, work and play, child and adult...a constant mighty morphin power ranger.

Lesson learned:  beeee yourself!  Do what makes you happy.  Be comfortable in your skin! :)  happy hippy thoughts today, my friends.


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