Well despite those lovely pictures I had of my black and red hair, which I had deluded myself into thinking would last because I used permanent dye, I'm afraid my hair was so porous and damaged that it had faded to gray within weeks. From permanent black! So I figured it was that time again, the time to go to the salon, have them put filler in and get it fixed up nice, then wait more than a few months before screwing it up again. So Friday, I had decided to go back to a permanent blue.
Salon interaction:
Lady: Blue?
Me: Yes, blue.
Lady: I'm sorry. I don't know if I heard you, Blue??
Me: Yes. B-L-U-E, blue.
Lady: Umm I don't think we have that.
Me: I assumed as much, but I was hoping you could mix it?
Lady: Lemme check.
(10 minutes pass and she comes out of the back)
Lady: Sorry we don't have that chemical.
Me: Alright then can you mimic what I've sort of got going here? Black with red streaks in it?
Lady: Sure. It's gonna take a while...and it'll be pretty expensive...
Me: I figured that as well. It's ok.
Lady: Ok so you want a funky colored red for the streaks?
Me: Yes, funky-fresh. 
Lady: Oh well we only have normal reds.
*Sigh*
All this to say, I decided to go jet black. Just black. I love the way it looks...but I miss the funky colors already. So of course, this isn't the last we've seen of em. 
But for at least a few months, my hair will be this color, because it needs time to recover. As for the dye job...
Though still a very painful experience due to my hair's continually damaged state, this woman was MUCH gentler with it and showed a lot more remorse for the lessened pain she did cause me...unlike Sweeney Todd.
), there was a hairdresser next to me. She was washing the hair of a teenage boy, clearly a client she knew fairly well. They were discussing a mutual friend from what I heard, and the woman said in a slightly condescending manner, "...but do you notice if you ask her a question, she hesitates before she'll answer?" The boy agreed and they continued talking. But I did not continue listening. Those words got stuck in my head and my mind began to race. "Hesitates?" She hesitates before responding? Doesn't that mean she's thinking? It all seemed so simple in my head. After all, it had been burned on my brain since childhood: THINK BEFORE YOU SPEAK. I'm aware how few people actually do that; most of us just run off at the mouth and, at least in my case, feel immediate regret at whatever it was we said. 83% of the time (totally made-up number) the moment AFTER I speak, I slap myself in the forehead, knowing that if I had only hesitated for a moment longer before opening my yap, I could have said something more clever, less insulting, or just BETTER.
I think that's why I like writing. You can think over every word you say, and if you want, you can even go back and read when you wrote to rethink it again! And isn't that what communication should be about? Even if you have to wait a little longer, you actually get across the thoughts and ideas you intend to. And yet this woman decides that thinking is a bad thing? 
Anyway, after my scalp was sufficiently sore, my hairdresser's back was sufficiently achy, and my hair was sufficiently BLACK, I was ready to go home. When paying, I put away my wallet while waiting for my change, assuming I could tip her with whatever was there. The change was a $10 bill and two $1's and without doing any math or giving the situation proper thought (I was pretty tired at this point, but then again, so was she) I just gave her the $2. Of course, the second I stepped out the door and began walking to my car...I started thinking. $2? For working for 3 hours on my hair? That's so wrong...what's the matter with me?? And yet, by the time I thought to rectify my actions, I was already at my car. I tried to blow it off...figured it wasn't that big of a deal. But while driving home, my guilt and shame only worsened. Literally the first words out of my mouth the second I walked in my front door, I posed the fairly rhetorical question to my family, "How wrong is it that I only gave the woman a $2 tip after working for 3 hours on my hair?" My mother and sister, just as mortified as I was, began to guilt me, like I really needed that. 
After just a few minutes at home...even though I was starving and dying for some dinner, and I figured that woman would be heading home by now, they had convinced me I should go back. My sister, or rather my conscience , decided to go with me. Thankfully, it's only 10 minutes away. So I shamefully and hungrily returned to the salon, with another $6 in hand. When I couldn't find her, I just asked one of the other girls to give it to her and express my apologies.
Now, one could argue it wasn't worth all that effort for $6, but I can assure you, my guilt would have cost me so much more.
So my hair is black, my heart is not, and I hope you all have a nice week! Shalom! 