Saturday morning it was medium brown. Average brown. Just the right brown for me. Then, Saturday afternoon I went in to get a few grays covered. Now, today, my hair is black. Dark black. Very black. BLACK. I'm still not sure what exactly happened, or why. I do know that she was wrong when she suggested it only looked darker under their lights and everything would be better at home.

Did I mention my hair is black? Cause thats consuming my thoughts. Enough that I stopped by the salon this morning to point out that My Hair Is Black. I listened to Christmas carols and thought about Jesus on the way over there. Trying to be a good example of love and mercy. Clinging to the hope they could fix my hair. It started well enough, calmly explaing that something had gone wrong. Obviously wrong. And then ... the person said that I had ASKED for my hair to be medium brown and thats what she had done.

The floodgates that my husband probably hoped he had welded shut burst open and all those shrill hysterical amazed words poured out ... "My Hair Is Black. My HAIR is black. It matches my bathrobe because its BLACK. Does this look normal to you!?!?!?!?!" The grown-man (manager) behind the counter looked frantically around for someone to save him, doubtless thinking that tears were close. He didn't know that I don't cry in public because it makes me look splotchy, which would be extra-unattractive with BLACK hair.

"Just tell me what to do. Please. I am so sorry you're unhappy. What would you like me to do?" We agreed after some discussion that this is not the worst thing that could happen to me. For example, I could be totally bald. Or look like a skunk if they gave me high-lights. Or hair so damaged it looked like hay. So.

I have a refund. I have a story. I have BLACK hair.