Not much to do except color my hair and get some household chores done. To add insult to injury, it is a gray rainy day which even rained out the Cincinnati Reds opening day celebration and baseball game. It's one of the few games with hope attached,since they don't have a chance (yet) for another losing season.
As far as coloring my hair goes, I have to do a better job than last time. Somehow, I left a noticeable patch of hair uncolored on the back of my noggin. Naturally, this time I have to pay more attention. Plus, I am almost to the point of needling two boxes of color, because my hair is getting so long and thick.
I did find out too (from the Ginger Burr beauty blog) that Pantone has selected the 2018 color of the year and the winner is…ultraviolet. It is a beautiful shade of purple. Not as cool as periwinkle, but not as warm as some of the plums that are a little trickier to wear. So maybe my new hair color will fit right in!
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| Ultra Violet |
I did get some good news from Liz yesterday, she wants to get our nails done Saturday before we good to the Transgender Day of Visibility, so far, we will be with five others taking care of the "Crossport Cincinnati" table, which is the cross dresser - transgender support group I belong to.
So, the weekend should be fun!
2 comments:
Dear Aunt Violet,
I'm sure your freshly-colored hair and nails will go a long way in making you visible on Saturday. So much for blending in, I guess - but do make sure you totally blend in that hair color! :-)
You have reminded me of my 5th grade teacher, an older woman who kept her hair dyed. I'm sure that she was using a standard black color, but it always came out with purple overtones, which was most evident for the first week after she'd applied it. My mother used to enjoy gossiping with the other mothers about Mrs Ingabo's hair and general appearance, as if this older woman really believed she was fooling everyone to think she was much younger. During one of our trips to the polio vaccine dose events (remember those sugar cubes?), we were in line behind her. When she was asked her age by the nurse, my teacher answered, "39". My mom completely lost it, laughing so hard that we had to leave the gymnasium and get in the end of the line.
By the way, Mrs. Ingabo's scent was still in the air when we made our way back to the registration table, as she went overboard on the perfume just as she did everything else.
I've seen quite a few older cross dressers who've reminded me of my old 5th grade teacher. While I don't laugh at them, I have thought about issuing some of them rain checks.
Remember Deep Purple? A much nicer memory than Mrs. Ingabo's scent! :)
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