To follow up on my previous entry…
I had my last conversation with HR today.
I hope you are having a great day. I talked it over and you are clear. There is no reason you cannot wear nail polish. I am going to call your manager and tell her that she cannot keep you from wearing nail polish. I hope the rest of your week is great!
So, there we have it. I can wear my nail polish. Don’t be ignorant. Don’t Bully me. Try not to be closed minded. Now let’s see what how my manager treats me after all this.
Today I decided to color my hair. I had been thinking about it, but i decided to just go with it. Fuck it. Who cares. #SebastianRealness I just felt as thought it was the right time.
So, i marched my happy ass down to Chop Shop on South Street, bursts through the doors and said, “I want to get my hair colored!”
And I was greeted with the enthusiastic “Anyone in particular?” …….at which time I realized no one cared but me.
I waltzed over the first chair on the right as the ever so happy counter girl told me and when I arrived and was greeted by a tall woman who looked as though she once modeled, but was over it so she decided to marry some guy and do hair in Philly. She was nice though.
When I told her I wanted my hair brown, she said…. “It’s not gonna happen, I’ll have to bleach your hair and tone it and your hair is already colored, it will just fall out”. Clearly this woman does not know that I have hair from out of this world. I told her, ” I understand what you are saying, but I am willing to take the risk. Worst comes to worst, I’ll just cut it all off….” And so we began.
Firs we bleached my hair. The hairdresser, was pretty much frightened the entire time. She just knew all of my hair was going to break off, but I was excited. Brown hair here I come. Because my hair was a very deep red, the bleaching ended with me having orange hair. Which was cool to look at for two seconds and then I was over it.
The hairdresser was surprised none of my hair broke off… and so we went on to step two. Toner.
As soon as the toner went in, I knew i made the right decision. It was light, maybe lighter than most people would think would be good for my complexion, but I liked it. When she washed the toner out…. I instantly learned what it was like to be bipolar. One moment I loved it, the next moment I hated it. I didn’t know what to do. I wanted it to be a tad darker, but then I loved it at the same time. AAAAAAAHHHHHH!
To myself I said aloud, “I should shave,” to which my hairdresser responded with “….yeah!” Shit, I need to hurry up and get home, so I can shave and stare at myself in the mirror for six years. Ahhhhhhhhhhh!
So i get home, I shave my face and throw some bronzer on and it looks better. i think it just takes some time to adjust. So , I took an instagram photo to share with the world, my new look. Which isn’t fair, because the lighting was a little different, but here it is anyway.
move over beyonce, i got dis