Man, I feel like a Woman.

"Do you think its going to be too dark?"

I took a step backwards, holding my gloved hands up in the air so I wouldn't rub up against anything in her bathroom and dye it black. "No," I replied. " I think its going to be fierce."

I was dying Bethany's brown hair "true black" with semi-permanent hairdye from the drug store. I sectioned a new part into her hair with the applicator tip and squeezed the color onto her root area and then pulled it along the length of her hair with my gloved hand. Real fierce.

Bethany and I have had a non-official weekly meeting for a few months, now. Every Saturday or Sunday, we get together and talk/laugh our heads off, watch something, and I occasionally perform some type of beauty treatment. Like today. This week, Bethany and I had planned a color and Felicity. See, now that Gilmore Girls is over, we thought we needed a new obsession. Thats where Felicity came into play. Neither of us ever actually saw the show, "Felicity", but it seems just like the kind of dialogue-y, relationy show that we're up for. However, not even one stupid video store in Erie carries Felicity Season One! Boo!

But I digress.

Coloring people's hair always reminds me of college. As a freshman, I had a friend from the dorm color my hair practically every week. I was 18 years old, c'mon. THEN, one time, I decided that I would like to have long hair. Didn't people like Jessica Simpson go and get natural-looking extensions all the time? Sure! So, my friend Mary Hurst and I went to a place called "Queens by Latrice" early one Saturday morning. We had gone to some random shop to pick up my extension hair (Mistake #1) and showed up at "Queens" ready to go. I spent the morning getting tiny strands of my hair braided tightly against my head. Then, she sewed the store-bought hair against my head. I have to say, I definitely picked the wrong colored hair because it looked like someone else's hair on my head. (I always said Aaliyah's hair).
Anywhoos, after three days, my head was beginning to itch and feel uncomfortable and I was tempted to jam pencils into it to scratch. That's when I decided... it was probably time. I walked into Mary's dorm room with my head down and she laughed, "Come here, I'll get the scissors."

She spent the next two hours cutting the sewn extensions out of my hair. When she finished, I felt relieved, about five pounds lighter (that hair was heavy!), and, well, just a little more like myself. Although I never tried extensions again, I continued coloring, highlighting, lowlighting and returning the favor to friends and roommates. Some of my favorite talks happened sitting on the bathroom floor with a towel draped around my neck while a friend stood over me with gloved hands and a squeezie full of color. And today, while we talked and laughed as I colored Bethany's hair, I was glad I'm a girl. Because that would've been weird if we'd been two dudes...