Day 1

Today is the first day of the rest of my life.

Okay, so not really. Today was just another day, but BLONDER. I woke up and drove to the Aveda Institute Los Angeles. While I was nervous about students doing my hair, I figured it's only hair and why not let my blonde experiment be someone else's learning experience? (And you can't beat the service at their prices) I figured, worst-case scenario, I’ll shave my head and rename this “my bald year,” If Natalie Portman can do it, so can I (I tend to apply this rule irrationally to everything – attending Yale, winning an Oscar, being in a movie with Jean Reno, rapping about stuff on SNL… I can’t do those things because I’m not Natalie Portman).

So I walk in and they tell me I can’t be a platinum blonde in one day and they suggest highlights. I say no, I want all over blonde (anyone can get some half-assed highlights – I’m going balls-deep blonde, bitches). So they paint my hair with the bleach stuff and we chit chat about all things BLONDE. They seem intrigued by my commitment to a year of blonde. They finish and I have to sit for 30 minutes. I watch my hair become orange. It’s pretty frightening.

Then, they lather, rinse, repeat. I get bleached again. This time I watch my hair go from orange to yellow. I figure there’s no going back now, so I tell that weird feeling in my stomach to fuck off. Lather, rinse, repeat. They don’t bleach my hair this time, they put actual color on to even it out and make it uniform. I get rinsed and trimmed and styled and blow dried… and I’m blonde. Blonder that the picture, but I’ve taken about 80 pictures and none of them seem to appropriately capture the level of blonde. But trust me, I’m blonde. I may go to more dangerous depths of blonde in the future, but for now, the professionals would only allow me to do so much. I have a feeling I’ll soon be screaming “PLATINUM OR BUST!” (pun intended? Get it – blondes with big boobs? No? okay…)

Do you know how much my salon visit cost? Granted, it was my first time at Aveda, so I got a discount or something, but it was roughly $89. For all that. I was like, WHAT?! I almost kissed the woman behind the cash register.

I leave the salon and as I’m crossing the street – I get a whistle. I look around and I’m the only person crossing the street. I turn around to see a bum whistling at me from the bench across the street. I smile politely and move on. First whistle as a blonde! Thanks, man!

I’m then driving down Wilshire and I get a call about a job. What what!!!? Then, I’m starving since I’ve been sitting in the basement of Aveda for 5 hours, so I say fuck it and get some In-n-Out. Not only is this In-n-Out normally a mess at 5pm, it’s usually a clusterfuck at the entrance and exits. I pull in to the lot without problem, there is no line for the drive-thru, and upon my exit, a dude in a Porsche signals to me that I can turn left in front of him – and he’s right no one’s coming (I’m not dumb enough yet to blindly trust a stranger’s traffic signals). I hit a little traffic a block from my house, but I have French fries, so who cares?

Needless to say, so far being blonde is pretty freaking great. I have a smile on my face that looks like I’m the Cheshire cat. I give to day 4 Barbie Warhols: