I tried my hand at being a blonde. I felt like how black girls look with platinum hair: totally unnatural. It wasn't even an unruly shade of blonde, kinda strawberry with some lemon colored highlights. It just wasn't me.
I couldn't write as a blonde. I couldn't yell at my kids. I couldn't even roll my eyes. They all felt wrong. I bought a Cosmo and let the magazine decide. I made a deal with myself that I would open the mag and if the model was a blonde, I'd keep it for at least another week. If the model was a brunette, I'd buy a box of dye to get me through til my sister-in-law could weedle me back into her schedule at the salon.
Commence opening....aaaaand......Kim Kardashian. Not really fair, since she is on just about every page of every mag, but I'll take it. So me and Miss Clairol are conspiring right now (Or "processing" for you hair folks out there). I sure hope I can write after this is all said and done, cuz if my momentary lapse into blonde-dom zapped that, I am gonna be PISSED!
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