The thing with coloring your hair is the minute it hits you, you have to do it right that instant. One minute I was on my way to pick up my kid from school, and the next thing I knew I was on my way to Trinoma to buy a color kit.

I stopped lightening my hair this year. It was kind of sudden and not so sudden. I’ve been contemplating on going au naturelle but my friends say that dark hair actually makes you look older. “Who cares,” I said. “I’m really getting old.”

Ok, they were right. It was a disaster waiting to happen. All I had meant to do was give my hair a break from all those chemicals I’ve been using since high school. Besides, I’m a bit alarmed on how much hair I’m losing each day. I see my hair in the shower, on the pillow, in the car and on the floor. They’re all over. I still wonder why I even have hair.

So I bought a color kit from Healthy Options. The kind that says all natural. No ammonia. No hydrogen peroxide. Nothing. How can it lighten my hair in the first place? Mind over matter? Will power? I still have to wait and see. Salons will tell you home kits don’t work but they do. Just don’t expect too much. You might miss a spot or two. Or your roots might appear lighter which almost always happens to the best of us. But they work. Trust me. =) Besides salon services are more expensive.

The last time I colored my hair, it was not successful. An hour passed and I totally forgot that I had a corrosive chemical on my hair. I dashed to the comfort room to wash it off, but knowingly I knew it was too late. The result. I could pass for one of my kid’s Caucasian dolls.

I didn’t panic but the remarks of my family and friends, you would think I was adopted or alien. Like giving me ‘who is this person and why is she talking to me’ look. Oh well, that’s the price of ‘blondeness.’ Being stared at like some trampish thing. Since that incident, I vowed to stay away from boxes that carry faces and hair not of my Asian race.

Until last week, when I bought that natural and organic coloring product. Guess what the shade is. Natural light blonde. This girl never learns her lesson.

photo:blonde/brunette by comicstriptease

Every woman remembers when she wore her first pair of high heels. There you were, 16 or 17, in a gown waiting for your prom date to show up. Nah, prom was not my first. I wore high heels in grade school and I was the hooker in a play. I remembered it clearly. Everyone kept saying that I fit the part. I took it as a compliment back then because I really looked good. I was only 11 and looking back now, I felt grown-up, sexy and full of mystery. What is it with high heels and the feeling of freedom and danger combined?

But growing up, I never really liked wearing high heels. They’re uncomfortable. They’re even costly than my usual flats and slippers. I was hoping to go through life in my flats but I had a wedding to go to. And my friend said that it was mandatory. When you’re 15 or 20 pounds overweight, wearing high heels is a serious problem especially when half the wedding ceremony is performed standing up. And taking off your shoes was out of the question.

The day of the wedding it was drizzling. I drove to the Church wearing my slippers. Traffic was bad, naturally. When I got to the Church, parking was full. So, I had to park some place else and it was no way near the Church. There I was, trying to make it to the ceremony without falling. Once there, I sat down on the nearest bench. I didn’t even bother to look for my friends as my feet were killing me 10 minutes through wearing them. My feet were perched on a pair of very narrow, sharp, pointed endings and they started to ache.

When everyone else was focused on the marrying couple, I kicked off my heels and if I had no one beside me, I would have massaged my feet right then and there. Only God would be able to witness my pain. But I had to wear them again because weddings require attendees to stand up once in awhile. Good thing, I had enough presence of mind to put them on when the ceremony was over. I was beginning to feel comfortable barefoot.

Anyway, I know there is a time for everything–time to sleep, time to wake up, time to eat and a time to wear high heels. I just wish it wouldn’t be too frequent.

photo: high heels by leacyy