In preparation for my trip, I got my hair cut and colored, except I did something really, really dumb. I heard there was this awesome hair academy in town and that they studied the latest in hair color and styles, so I thought why not?
This was a bad idea.
Two and a half hours after I arrived, waited, watched a girl put color on my hair for over an hour (yes, an hour), they came over to tell me they had run out of time for a cut. They were closing in thirty minutes and just couldn't get me in. So there I sat, wet hair dripping down my back, looking suspiciously UNlike the color we discussed. What to do? I had a meeting. I had edits.
So I took off for my usual salon down the street. On the way, my hair started to dry and I was seeing a lot more red than I was deep coppery brown. By the time I got there my fears were confirmed. I looked a lot less like me, and a lot more like the little mermaid.
My stylist was gracious enough to fit me in. Of course, I tip very well.
Anyway, we decided on something funky and letting the color stand as is. I wasn't too sure about this plan.
My salon is located in a mall, and I go to it because they are open on Sundays. This was a Friday night though and across the way, a group was doing a photo shoot. Turns out they're from a program called HOPE Station, part of Chapters. The idea? Share your story of hope. Talk about the chapters of your life. This was right up my alley. I mentioned I had a pretty good story to share, and they asked me to take a photo. I spent the next hour or so visiting with a number of women who have all changed their lives, moved on from tragedy and serious life circumstances, and started the next chapter of my life.
And it wouldn't have happened if I hadn't screwed up and gone to the hair academy.
Now I am going to New York with bright red hair. Hey, I can rock it. But hopefully, my editor doesn't balk. Cross your fingers.
Oh, and here's my shirt for HOPE Station:
I am no longer rocking the bangs.