The other day I applied the "cover the gray" dye to my hair. Now I've had some adventures with doing this routine before - read here. After that little fiasco, I actually discovered a color I really like and for which I received several compliments. I even had one lady ask me what the color was since she wanted to use it as well.
So it would seem all is well in the hair color land. Right. Until I get to the store and can't remember the number of the color. Never one to be deterred - I decide to try the "match the color by the picture of the model on the front of the box" routine. Ask me why I didn't call the friend with whom I had shared my hair color number? Because the logic of that never entered my mind. I played "lineup" dye.
I came home and without any horrible dye incidents - walked out of the shower with newly colored tresses. Only to look in the mirror and gasp! Does deep shiny black mean anything to anyone? The box said dark brown -not black! The guys tried to reassure me that it looked okay. I tried to tell myself that I could live with it for however long - afterall hair grows.
Nope. Not gonna happen. Yesterday I waltzed down to the store and got the correct color and I am sitting here baking as I type. Who knows what the outcome will be - but anything's got to be somewhat better. I hope. Maybe. Perhaps I should surf through some wig sites.
Update: It didn't work. It did take care of one little patch I had missed - so at least now I'm even. Of course somewhere in the back of my brain I knew the only way to do it is to strip it all and then start all over - ain't gonna happen. I'll live with having the color hair I had when I was seven.
My one and only is out there in the world by hisself! He went to a Bible study, dinner, social time in Forsyth tonight. And we let him get in the vehicle and drive down the road! Oh my.
This means I know I can't paint realistically enough to be satisfied that the picture looks like the beautiful nature and 



