The only blog post I will ever write about my hair

I'd like to think I haven't had my hair done in four months is because of my feminist snobbery. So what if women never dye their hair? Why do we need to put all this pressure on our own sex to be perfect all the time? roots are a sign of power, sisters! It's the power against sexist expectations!!!!

That's what I'd like to think. My roots are a true sign of how busy I am these days. You can count my rings like a tree. 

I'd like to think I'm following the ombre hair trend, with ashy roots, red midsection, and orange ends.  A true rainbow of past hair decisions and mistakes.

My growing awareness of my bad hair was an anomaly. Two weeks ago in LA, my mom and I were hunting through zippers in a notions shop, and she simply asked, "Ellen, what's going on with your hair?" 

It doesn't dye well mom, since I stripped the black color.

"Obviously." 

Great, mom. Thanks. The truth is my hair just doesn't hold color like it used to since I had to strip the black out of it twice. Mind you, I've been dying my own hair for the past two years. I would pay a mere $9 every month for hair dye. I have been so busy lately that I haven't made it back to Sally's Beauty Supply (across the street) to get more dye.

However, I caught my reflection in a mirror at work today, and I was literally stunned by my reflection. I have bad hair. BAD HAIR. ME. All my high school and college friends can attest to how important my hair is to me. A girl just doesn't have two pixie cuts in her life without REALLY caring and obsessing about her hair.

On my way home from school, I called my mom and told her I need to do something about my hair, the roots, and the color. 

"Uhhh,YEAH!"

Mom! Why didn't you tell me it was that bad?

"I THOUGHT I DID!!!!"

My appointment is going to cost me $120 next Saturday. 

THIS IS ALL YOUR FAULT, MOM!