Chillin' like a Villian

I have an important job interview coming up this week. It was important enough (to me) to merit a new interview outfit (procured from THE GAP and the Juniors department of Robinsons-May... let me just tell you how excited I was to purchase items that FIT ME from THE GAP and the Juniors department of Robinsons-May.... I had to suck up my very pride to even walk into THE GAP and there found that I wasn't actually looked at funny AND found a friggin' shirt ... then... I was unstoppable and boldly pranced into the Juniors department of Robinson's May!)

Not only a new outfit but I decided I also needed new hair highlights (and a trim, more importantly, to get rid of my split ends).

You must understand (for the rest of this story)... that I was traumatized at a young age by a certain Asian hair-stylist in Santa Monica (who now has her own salon near the Third-Street Promenade). She was my grandmother's favorite stylist. Once, when I was in my grandmother's care and probably about 8 or 9 years old, she Shanghaied me into this salon where Shoo-Pin (what we will call her) listened to what my grandmother wanted and proceeded to comb out all of my cute little girl curls (she called them cow-licks) and gave me a boy-cut. (And for reasons beyond my understanding I was taken to Shoo-Pin on more than this one occasion. And my mother later chose Shoo-Pin as her personal stylist before finally realizing that Shoo never listened to her and she finally, only recently, escaped from this relationship.)

So I have a complex about hair-stylists and salons and for many many many many years avoided them at ALL costs and if I HAD to go I would actually go through some post-traumatic drama and tear up whenever in the shampoo sink. (My complex being that the stylist was not going to listen to what I wanted and was going to give me some horrible horrible haircut.)

BUT last year I conquered this fear and found a little salon in Monrovia where my stylist was more than helpful, listened to all my needs, made wonderful suggestions and gave me the best haircut I've ever had in my life. (I've since attempted to maintain it on my own which requires a lot of hair-care learning that I've never previously bothered to figure out.)

So I figured I'd go to "my" salon yesterday for this needed cut but found them to be unavailable. This put me into a downward emotional spiral as I realized that I was only going to be OKAY if MY stylist cut my hair and did my highlights!!! I could NOT get my highlights from some non-English-speaking-non-Erin-understanding person at SuperCuts or Fantastic Sams. What was I to do???? I decided to browse through a local mailer and found a coupon for a place on the cute little old-town street here. I called, they had availability, I went in. I figured they weren't a chain store and they were on the cute street so maybe they'd be OK.

Now Blanca seemed like a decent person but she gave me some big chunky too-light highlights, dyed dark the old decent highlights and gave me a trim that left me looking like a Super Mario mushroom.

In a panic I went home and found the hair dye I knew I had under the sink - Black Cherry - and applied it to all of the too too blonde-ish highlights. So now I have lots of purple streaks throughout my darker dark-brown hair and look like a Disney villianess.

Luckily my new outfit is a black suit with a purple blouse. (However, the at-ease summery professional thing I was attempting has now become psycho goth girl.)

(In Epilogue - I also apparently missed a whole section in the back, had to buy a new box of Black Cherry and re-dyed everything including the missed back portion.)

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