BathroomHogs
Two Sisters, One Bathroom
Tuesday is Scent Day: To Smell or Not to Smell
Oct 13th
When I was younger my nose was hyper sensitive to any and all smells. It was like being punished for leaving the house when exposed to all the smells Baltimore had to offer my lame nostrills. For instance old ladys’ who have worn their scent so long they are immune to it, and therefore spray on too much. That could make me sick to my stomach and ruin a day out. And, then there is always the cigarette arm hanging out the car window, because they don’t smoke in their car. hmmm.
I must confess I enjoy growing into my womenhood and one of the blessings is my nose is conking out. My life is pure bliss not to smell another’s body odor, nor feet stinch. I cannot even smell when my baby has a bowel movement. It is the small thing in life, especialy when it comes to scents.
Monday is Hair Day: The Box is Not the Bottle
Oct 13th
As fall is approaching, I thought it might be a good idea to switch my hair over from my recorrected blonde hair with about 3 inches of exposed roots to something more dignified and resigned: Brown.
I’ve never been a fan of brown hair; it looks great on horses but on humans it just makes me a little sad, since it lacks a certain amount of oomph that I experience with blonde or red hair (and even the woeful foray into a black). Brown is boring and for blending in with thee rest of the masses.
That said, I knew it was time to blend. The exposed roots didn’t seem to hold any certain color that could be sorted out; it just mocked me with a “blah”. And when in blah, go brown. I don’t have the physical ability right now to spend time carefully adding highlights or lowlights, my foot is broken and can’t bear weight, and the other leg only tolerates a flamingo stance for so long before it revolts. So, brown was the easiest to take care of what I need for the next few months.
Because I couldn’t actually get to the store to stand there for an hour staring aimlessly at all the boxes, I had plenty of time to read online about what colors were available and find something that would be easy for my husband to spot in the store, grab, and hurry out of the store.
I settled on Feria, since I’ve used it in the past with no problems; now it was time to sort through the subtlety of my monitors variations of brown and guess which would work. I finally settled on Brazilian Brown. The box’s model and the color’s name had been changed, and my husband understood he was to look for the dye number first and not worry so much about the model on the box or whatever name was given. Depending on the store you buy from, there could be a product that has had its name changed within the past year or even twice in one year to hip it up a bit. Mostly it results in confusion for buyers who want to “brand” their hair with a certain dye. But what is Autumn Sable one day is Chai Swirl the next.
My helpful husband returned from the store and just as I had predicted, the model on the box looked nothing like the one on the box from L’Oreal’s official website, and the name was slightly changed, though I can’t recall the new (or old) one. The dye number was correct though, so it was time. I did look at the side of the box with the pictures indicating how the shade would appear, my “blah” was going to become a dark caramel, I assumed.
Forty-five minutes later, there didn’t seem to be a trace of brown at all, and instead a dark flaming red greeted me, haunting me with memories of clowns known to be evil. I’ll live with it for now, and after a few washes, it has definitely toned down. My point is that I really never know what’s going to happen with my hair when I decide to dye at home; I have experienced mutitudes of diasters, and I know that when it gets really bad, I can always head to a real salon and pay to get it corrected!