The two don't have much to do with eachother, except I use henna rather than chemical dye. If you're not familiar with it, it's a plant that coats your hair, making it strong and soft, and dying it a reddish or burgundy (or sometimes orange) color. To get mine more of a burgundy color, I usually leave it in my hair for several hours.
I prepared my henna (it sits overnight, mixed with lemon juice, to help release the dye) Thursday night, because my husband usually gets off work around noon on Friday. Friday morning, I woke up, took a shower to wet my hair, and coated my scalp and roots in henna. To keep from dying my skin or clothes, and to hold in the heat to help the color take better, I wrapped my hair and head in saran wrap, covered it with a shower cap, and then wrapped and pinned a bath towel over the whole thing. Yeah, I do this about every 6 weeks. I also kept on my nightgown instead of getting dressed, so I didn't stain my real clothes and had no tight neckline to pull over everything. It ended up looking like this:No problem there. I'm just chilling at home, waiting for the husband because it take for ever to rinse out, and I can't spend that long in the shower with the rugrat running lose. I keep waiting, and waiting, and then I hear the door, so I open it to help my husband.
Only, it's not him. It's the UPS guy. He hands me a box and hauls ass back to the truck. Hubby gets home about an hour later, because he had to work over, and I finally get to wash my hair and come out all bright and shiny and looking like Rhianna on the cover of Vogue. Well, what Rhianna might look like if she was a fat, white, housewife but still had the rockin' hair. Of course, I guess she wouldn't be in Vogue then - well, whatever.
Anyhow, all's good until this afternoon, not long after the ball incident. I see the