Becca and I go way back. So far back I can’t even remember where it started. She’s the second blogger in The Year of Bloggers that I’ve actually met in real life, at Blogger Interactive. She’s super nice and down to earth, and she smells good too. Becca started out her bloggy career as 25 to Fly and since then has opened up so many doors it’s starting to feel a little drafty in herre. She’s written for The Indie Chicks, started BeccaTube, co-founded Blogger Interactive with the infamous hugger, Jen and Tonic, and has now morphed into Not a Red Head. Becca was the first lady I collaborated with for one of my BFF Interviews, and boy did she hold her own. She loves Long-Jons like it’s going outta style and she’s working on a Straight when it comes to cat names. (Make sure to tell Jack and Ace hi!) If you happen to run across cats named Queen, King or Ten make sure to let her know. I’m sure she’ll appreciate it very, very much.
Anyway, back to the Red Hair!
The summer before my senior year in high school I started playing around with my hair, trying to make it look sexy… or something like that. I attempted tipping or frosting or highlighting or whatever you want to call it. You know, putting this cap on your head, tight enough to make your eyes pop out, and letting your mom pull little tufts of hair through tiny holes, with a very sharp hook, and listening to her laugh every time you make a noise the signifies that it is painful. (First World Problems!) It was August the first time I had it done. I hadn’t seen a couple of my friends for a few weeks, so we all met up at the Taco Palace to shoot some pool, and eat tacos of course. I wore a hat for some reason, and made the big reveal about midway through the night. My friends were impressed. Either that or they were just being nice because, hey, they’re my friends. Nobody made any disparaging remarks about it so I figured it was a good enough thing to keep up with. Fast forward a year and a half.
I was working part-time and going to college full-time. I didn’t have the time or the money for a haircut so I just let it grow. The bad thing is I kinda look like a chubby 80’s with my hair grown out. I didn’t mind though, but for some reason it was getting on my coworkers nerves. One of them happened to be married to a beautician. They made me a proposition. They would take up a collection from the office to help pay for my haircut. (A full ten dollars) If I accepted the money they would choose who cut my hair, how it was cut and I would have to stay clean-shaven for thirty days. (Even back then I liked to keep up the chin whiskers.) I accepted and they choose the wife to cut my hair. She cut it short and combed it forward. I was a new BroJo. I liked it and kept it that way until recently. (Again I didn’t have any money, and I also needed to look good for the interview.) She also helped me with my highlights.
One particular time I had the grand idea to lighten up ALL of my hair, not just some of the tips. I wanted to go a few shades lighter because, you know, blondes have more fun. Yeah right. It started out okay, but quickly made a turn for the worst. This lady happened to cut my hair out of her mother-in-law’s shop, which was right in her house. After they got done doing whatever they were doing to my hair they took me into the living room to show the husband. He looked up and said “what have you done to this poor boy?” Now, don’t worry. I still had all of my hair, and the cut still looked good. It was the shade that was a little off. After a couple more tries I ended up with pumpkin orange hair, a mere few days before the company Christmas party. It all worked out though. I had a fun time, and everybody else did too… making fun of my hair.
But they that wait upon the Lord shall renew their strength; they shall mount up with wings as eagles; they shall run, and not be weary; and they shall walk, and not faint. ~ Isaiah 40: 31
*Featured Image Credit – stuartrental.com