Do you remember the last time you twisted, contorted and turned your body into a human pretzel to…no, not for that, people. Scour your dirty minds. I’m referring to the 180 degree moves you have to bust out every time you apply dye to the hair on the back of your head. God I hate it and this afternoon I was a near victim of throwing my back out after a performance that would make a snake dancer proud.
I started the process by hitting play to the soundtrack of Saturday Night Fever, somehow imaging that visuals of John Travolta gyrating his hips would make the process easier. But alas, such was not the case. However, like my daddy says, no pain no gain, and so I pushed on. Discomfort be damned.
With the help of my trusty mirror, brought back from exile for whispering I was no longer the fairest of them all, I set forward to banish those gray hairs forever. Or shall I say, for the next two weeks or so. While the Bee Gees reminded me of the importance of “staying alive”, I worked quickly, reaching with the plastic bottle to capture the little buggers.
As usual, when challenged to do something physical that involves burning more than ten calories, I drifted off to my alternate reality. I was in the Ouidad salon in New York City. The top stylist was cutting, highlighting, and styling my tresses. I was not in my extremely tiny bathroom, propped on the bathroom sink, armed with a plastic bottle full of drugstore dye, and wearing plastic gloves big enough to fit the hands of…Big Foot. Oh, you know what I mean.
Where oh where had the days when I didn’t bat an eye at being charged $200 for face framing highlights gone?
Instead here I was, voluntarily or perhaps forced by my current circumstances, engaging in this sheer act of torture.
As the timer rang, I popped into the shower to remove the offensive smell, all the while imagining I am JLo in that video where she’s taking a shower. Oh stop rolling your eyes. It was either that or face the reality that I had literally lost sensation in 90% of my body.
Fast forward four hours. Yes, the heating pad is applied as we speak, but I’ve prevailed. After all, life is all about staying alive, staying alive!