Back in Black

Yes lovely peeps, the shiny black locks are back. Well... mostly. I just discovered a few patches of red, a couple of lightish brown strips and a few miscellaneous stripey areas, but at least my hair is no longer orange at the roots and burgundy on the ends. I can go out in public again and not feel like an orange-haired idiot who can't even blame her rotten hair colour on some crappy apprentice who mixed the colour wrong.

I just can't really pull it back in a ponytail cos then you'll see all the mistakes. And the bits just above my ears that are still... what's the colour... ummmm... canary yellow. Yes. Those bits must remain hidden for a bit until my hair is recovered enough to be attacked with the (dark brown or black) dye again.

Thank you hair. I know I put you through a lot. Your protest at my idea of going lighter (ie turning orange) is duly noted and I promise that should I ever toy with the idea of going lighter again I will consult a professional and not put you through the hell you have been put through in the last week. I will not take the cheap option and do it myself. You will not be laughed at in the pub, nor will you ever have to hear again the comment that orangey red hair does not match well with my wardrobe (which is predominantly pink).

Those of you who sided with my hair and protested against my lightening attempts, I also thank you for your concern and advice and agree that I should have listened to you in the first place. I would ask that next time (because I assure you there will be one, when the memory of chemicals burning into my scalp has dwindled away) you physically restrain me from entering a chemist or supermarket and purchasing hair dye. I'm willing to do one of those self-exclusion things like they do in the pokie rooms if you think that's the only way I'll be able to prevent myself from repeating these acts of stupidity.

So now I can go out in public again. Hurrah. A play at the Fitz tomorrow night, a morning at the beauticians on Thursday (there are some things involving hot wax which even I am not stupid enough to attempt at home) and then on Thursday afternoon its off to Thredbo for 3 days of skiing. Yipppeeeeee!! I hope I remember how to ski. The last time I skiied was when I was in France. And that was in 1999. Shit. Am I really that old? Are there two i's in skiied or one? Skied. Skiied. Hmmm... not sure. Opinions welcome. Anyway, I'm very excited. I've never skiied in Australia (they don't have snow in Adelaide so my first experience of snow/skiing was when I lived in the US). But I'm renowned for being a tad on the klutzy side ("no really, those bruises are self-inflicted") so I'm not sure how much time will actually be spent swooshing down the mountain and how much time will be spent on my ass wondering how I didn't spot that tree stump/small child/chair lift.

I'm also excited that all the smug marrieds are leaving their men/babies/pets/inhibitions at home so I'm hoping they'll be up for a huge one. Although I'll probably be the lame one who goes to bed at 9pm smelling of tiger balm, with a cup of cocoa and The Rachel Papers (just started it yesterday... thanks for the Martin Amis recommendation Cotton) while they go nuts on the apres ski and consume masses of schnapps and sing bad karaoke.

I really hope I remember how to ski...