Weekend Update
Mar. 25th, 2006 09:22 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
sinanjuMy hair is violet. Repeat, my hair is violet. Yesterday afternoon after work I went to Rudy's Barbershop and got my hair colored and cut. It's the same color mix the woman there used on ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
snippy but it came out looking entirely different (this was by intent, mind you--I wanted it that way). She has lots of long, dark, curly hair. After the colorist was done, it had violet highlights. My hair was never as dark as hers, and I've been salt-n-pepper (and more salt than pepper in places) for years. So the color is brighter. It's definitely not a natural color.
It's very interesting. I like it. Maybe I'll take a picture and post to document the transformation.
In other news, I've been having the strangest dreams lately. The first dream last night I dreamed that I was on the road and trying to get somewhere. But the landscape kept changing. All the possible routes of travel were constantly being disrupted or blocked. Getting around them was quite the challenge. In the most blatant instance, a path near a railroad track was treacherous in the extreme because a train would derail and crash blocking the only available road when you tried to use it. If you gave up and retreated, the train would un-derail, like running a film backwards. Getting past it required excellent timing and nerves of steel, since messing up would get you smeared.
The second dream involved my trip to Hell in the company of Angel, Wesley and...someone else, whose identity I no longer remember. Hell, as it turns out, is a huge old mansion. Like the biblical description of Heaven, in fact ("In my father's mansion, there are many rooms."). It was tall as a high rise, and about that big square as well. Hell is also full of people. Guests (sinners, I assume) and staff (human looking, but presumably demons).
We entered Hell intentionally, on a mission of some kind. We had a plan for getting in, getting the job done, and getting out again. We had a guidebook, but--this being Hell, I guess--it was singularly useless. For one thing, the pages were randomized. For another, the text was formatted like newspaper articles--which meant that even if you found the info you were looking for, it invariably was continued on another (random) page.
The staff was surly, not surprisingly. They served food and drink (which were apparently safe to enjoy), but they were obnoxious about it. The place was full of traps for the unwary. And worst of all, it seemed that anyone who found himself in hell was filled with Pride. As in, you were unwilling to listen to anyone else's advice or follow their instructions. This, we discovered, was making our Cunning Plan (tm) rather more difficult to implement than we'd anticipated, since we all wanted to be the key player.
We wandered aimlessly, struggling to avoid traps (some as obvious as snares made of gold chain that writhed on the floor like snakes), work out who was going to perform which part of our plan, and try to find the target of this cunningly-prepared raid.
Alas, I can't tell you how it turned out. I woke up while we were still wandering around, awakened by the smell of hair dye. Some of the dye on my hair had rubbed off onto my pillow. Darn it.
snippy but it came out looking entirely different (this was by intent, mind you--I wanted it that way). She has lots of long, dark, curly hair. After the colorist was done, it had violet highlights. My hair was never as dark as hers, and I've been salt-n-pepper (and more salt than pepper in places) for years. So the color is brighter. It's definitely not a natural color.It's very interesting. I like it. Maybe I'll take a picture and post to document the transformation.
In other news, I've been having the strangest dreams lately. The first dream last night I dreamed that I was on the road and trying to get somewhere. But the landscape kept changing. All the possible routes of travel were constantly being disrupted or blocked. Getting around them was quite the challenge. In the most blatant instance, a path near a railroad track was treacherous in the extreme because a train would derail and crash blocking the only available road when you tried to use it. If you gave up and retreated, the train would un-derail, like running a film backwards. Getting past it required excellent timing and nerves of steel, since messing up would get you smeared.
The second dream involved my trip to Hell in the company of Angel, Wesley and...someone else, whose identity I no longer remember. Hell, as it turns out, is a huge old mansion. Like the biblical description of Heaven, in fact ("In my father's mansion, there are many rooms."). It was tall as a high rise, and about that big square as well. Hell is also full of people. Guests (sinners, I assume) and staff (human looking, but presumably demons).
We entered Hell intentionally, on a mission of some kind. We had a plan for getting in, getting the job done, and getting out again. We had a guidebook, but--this being Hell, I guess--it was singularly useless. For one thing, the pages were randomized. For another, the text was formatted like newspaper articles--which meant that even if you found the info you were looking for, it invariably was continued on another (random) page.
The staff was surly, not surprisingly. They served food and drink (which were apparently safe to enjoy), but they were obnoxious about it. The place was full of traps for the unwary. And worst of all, it seemed that anyone who found himself in hell was filled with Pride. As in, you were unwilling to listen to anyone else's advice or follow their instructions. This, we discovered, was making our Cunning Plan (tm) rather more difficult to implement than we'd anticipated, since we all wanted to be the key player.
We wandered aimlessly, struggling to avoid traps (some as obvious as snares made of gold chain that writhed on the floor like snakes), work out who was going to perform which part of our plan, and try to find the target of this cunningly-prepared raid.
Alas, I can't tell you how it turned out. I woke up while we were still wandering around, awakened by the smell of hair dye. Some of the dye on my hair had rubbed off onto my pillow. Darn it.
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
(no subject)
Date: 2006-03-26 05:44 am (UTC)~
(no subject)
Date: 2006-03-27 03:46 pm (UTC)I'm curious because I remember a time I went for a shade that was too dark and wound up with burgundy hair with pink highlights under the fluorescent lights at my office. Definitely not my color!
(no subject)
Date: 2006-03-27 07:18 pm (UTC)Besides, I didn't want anything that might be mistaken for an attempt simply to hide my gray hair (i.e., a natural shade). Some people are vain that way. MY vanity takes the form of not being bothered by having gray hair. (As it happens, we didn't color my beard, so it's not like there isn't still plenty of gray hair in evidence.)