One Time For Halloween,

I wanted to be the best looking roadkill zombie ever. We have all seen our share of it around these parts, so the costume was easy to figure out. I had experienced success with fake blood the year before, so much that I won first place for my ridiculously scary tactics. (It's helpful being raised by a makeup artist.)
So I bought what I thought was the same kind of fake blood, couldn't find my mom around, so had my sister dump the bucket- o- blood on my head.
Then we read "DO NOT USE ON HAIR."
It stained my hair blood red.

I began having fun with hair when I was 16. My hair, which had been for most of my life that which I felt most proud of. Allways I was getting compliments on my hair.
I was challenged to let it go, and it was life changing.

After this roadkill disaster I did everything but get upset. I was glad it happened, mistakes are a great time to try new stuff. I was working in Atlantic station, and one of my peers had been begging me to let her put traks in my hair. Why not?

I think women should be able to freely express ourselves on as man mediums as we can. We are emotional creatures.

It might seem strange that I am talking about makeup, but this is one of those things I am very concerned with for the younger ones. My mother and sister are stunningly beautiful women, yet they don't leave the house without their warpaint.