The Ritual of Bloody Handprints and Pink Bubble Hats

Every three to six weeks, I perform this strange ritual. I walk into my bathroom, lock the door, and get undressed. I kick all of the clothes I just took off way to the side, and I start to mix the wonderful potion that will transform my flat, boring, gray (went gray at 19) hair into something more fun.

I carefully apply the potion to my eyebrows, first, using a q-tip...because no hair color will look right if my eyebrows aren't the same shade! (Yeah, I know, if I screw up, I might go blind...I'm careful. Promise.) Then I spend the next ten minutes smooshing this wonderful, though stinky, potion into my hair. Then I sit and stare at a clock for the next twenty to forty minutes, wishing I had remembered to bring a book into the bathroom with me. I wipe away the dye that is on my eyebrows with a cloth, and then it's time to rinse out my hair.

This is where the fun begins. I dye my hair a variety of different colors, from brown, to blond, to red. It depends on my mood at the moment. No matter which color I choose, the dyes will turn a dark brown, red, or dark purple color while it is in my hair. I step into the shower, add a bit of warm water, and start to lather it up - just like the box says. Then I look around, and see this brown/red/purple sticky stuff has splattered all over the shower curtain and the walls of the shower. And I just can't resist!

I have to make "bloody" handprints on the walls. Sometimes on the shower curtain, too. A "massacre" takes place in my bathtub every month...but you're the first to discover that secret...I wash away the evidence before I get out. How is anyone supposed to resist the temptation?! I CAN'T be the only one that does this, right?!

Since moving here in late August, I've dyed my hair twice. And I have added a new component to this ritual because the shower came complete with a shaving mirror. After I'm done making my bloody handprints all over the walls, I go back to shampooing my hair, and I open my eyes to see this pink FROTH all over my head in the mirror. I have to shape these wonderful pink bubbles into strange shapes, don't I? Isn't there a law that says so?

For those of you that have been wondering if I'm certifiable, this post may be your deciding factor. You may never come back. You may never leave another comment. That's ok. I can deal with it. I mean, I can always entertain myself with bloody handprints and pink bubble hats.