I'm in the market for a nose ring and some skull scrubs.

So, I decided to go to the hairdresser yesterday because I wanted a change. I was tired of blonde and it really is kind of an ashy dishwater blonde color anyway when I don't do highlights.

So, I said, "How about a warm brown with some red highlights?" I was thinking it would be nice to tone things down a bit as we are heading into autumn and all.

Well, apparently she heard "RED" as in R-E-D, RED, folks. So, I'm sitting there all innocent and optimistic getting aluminum foiled up and when I have a full helmet head she hands me a copy of Entertainment Weekly and sets the timer. I read my magazine and twirl around in my chair listening to, and sometimes participating in, the idle gossip until "ding" it's time to rinse.

So, I walk over to the sinks for my rinse and dutifully go back to my chair for my cut and style. I'm full of trust and slightly eager, but mostly I have a lack of concern. I'm not too excitable by nature. I'm pretty easygoing.

All the while I'm catching little glimpses, but not seeing myself full on in the mirror. Then suddenly she's done and she twirls me around and I see my reflection.

WTF?!

I don't think I even managed a polite smile. I bit my lip and stood up kind of numb like...

(Hindsight is 20/20 and at this point I really should have requested a redo of the "RED" stripes in my "warm brown" hair, but I was too stunned to speak much.)

I paid ($170!!), walked out and drove straight home.

And here I am in the aftermath.

After sending Joanne on about three emergency trips to Walgreens for "brown", "dark brown" and lastly "black brown"... (which worked in the end... if you want to call it that - more on that in a minute), she still professed to love me despite my dilemma.

She alternated between laughing at me and being ready to kill me after I obsessed over my situation for the next 24 hours.

So, like I said the "black brown" finally worked - at least it hid my red stripes, but now I have a distinctively Goth look. And the pale face to go with it. Which would be fine, but I'm 38.

Not too many 38 year old women are into the Goth look.

Unless you count groupies.

Think Kelly Osbourne with age progression.

And, no, I'm not posting any photos. You'll have to use your imagination.

Well, maybe later when I get a little nerve... or have a drink or two.

Clearly I've either got to get a buzz cut

Or a nose ring and some skull scrubs.

Do they sell those?

...On the upside, Halloween should be easy this year.