Angels and Devils

Hairdressers. They have been the subject of my fear for years. Every time I've ever gotten a haircut, they managed to cut both my fringe and the rest of my hair too short for my liking. Put a ghost in my room, that's alright; send me to the dentist, fine; get me a new hair cut, noooo way.

Yesterday I figured was the perfect day for some drastic changes. My horoscope (daily mail shizzle) said Deep, significant and radical changes are coming your way. Don't fear them.

My reaction: Radical changes, yeah baby! Let's add some Marilyn Monroe to my Kate Moss-blonde coupé. Three hours later I returned to my home, looking like a lighthouse.

Fair enough.

I now know every single joke there is about people with red hair. It was a nice change from the blonde-jokes...

"I spy with my little eye something that's orange, white and green."

- "The Irish Flag!"

"No...." *puts on a devillish grin and glances over at me*

However, since orange really hadn't been my goal, I went back to ask for a jar of bleach today. They looked at my bright orangy haircolour and decided (group decision) that it wasn't blonde. Yeah. 12.03PM, bright moment! Anyway, I spent another two hours reading 1984 with a black-haired woman staring at me in awe.

YES. I DO LIKE CARROTS! WHY DID YOU ASK?!

Thirty pages later, I was blonde.

The girl who dyed my hair now has a new slogan on her business card.

Changing devils to angels in under two hours!

Thank you, thank you very much.