My last post brought back a "look alike" memory from the year my Fairborn Guy turned 40, 1995 to be exact.
I like surprises...doesn't everyone? So in trying to come up with the perfect gift idea I decided to do something that even today makes me laugh at myself...I am entirely too weird for help.
At the time I had an Oregon bff, who btw, does really deserve some of the blame for the outcome of this story...she should have insisted that I at least enlist an artist in this surprise escapade who had a reputation of success. Julie if you ever find yourself reading this blog I need you to know that I hold no grudges but, why the heck did you not make me go to Jean Juarez?
My masterminded plan was as follows:
Drive south to Oregon for a "visit" with friends and family. Stay with bff and her family the first night. Arrive early in the afternoon. Let the hubbys know (Julie's husband Gary was informed of the real plan and played along, bless his heart) they were in charge of dinner and the kids for the evening so we girls could go and take care of an "errand" that involved an early birthday surprise for Fairborn Guy when we returned.
I have always wondered if he silently hoped we were headed to Victoria Secret...okay worse...for a super-duper shopping spree after a drive-thru lypo-suction session....like he would ever admit it right?
The next part of the plan is where it begins to fall apart. The good ole Dex should not have been my go-to-guy for the surprise acquisition spot. I have no recollection how I decided which numbers to phone. I probably went with a solid criteria like, "oooh that name sounds cute, lets try that one!". I think that the final decision was on only try number two...yes you heard it correctly...the second phone call won!
"Hello I am planning a surprise for my husband, I am looking for someone willing to make me look like Meg Ryan....not so much her hair style but her hair color is what I would like."
"Who Meg Whyan?"
"She is an actress....a blond actress."
"What cala you hawr?"
"Oh we can do dat...we good at dat...we give you very good bltich job here...we make you berry beau-twiful...we give very good bltich job here. You come now...we have time...fit you in...you be very happy."
Why Meg Ryan, you ask? Ahhh...she just happens to be Fairborn Guy's favorite actress that's why! Because of her, he actually has a favorite romantic comedy movie named French Kiss! I thought it a great idea to give him, me blond for his 40th...not a common gift women give their men especially women raised on, and living in, the traditions of the women's lib movement. We dye our hair to make "us" happy right?
Meanwhile back at the suspenseful unfolding--
Time was of the essence, it must have been the word "now" that drove me over the cliff in haste. What I remember is we hopped into the car stat and drove directly to the darlingly named hair salon with the cute little female Asian "artist" with very little english speaking skills. Oh how I wish I had photos of the process. I am thinking that should have been assigned to Julie...bffs take pictures of these things don't they? She certainly had time to take several rolls as we were there for over 4 freaking hours!
I do not have a photo of the end result....but in one word I can give you a very clear picture to describe it. Orange!
I cried in the salon...I cried after leaving the salon...I kept crying. And no!... it is not VAIN to cry when one's hair is ORANGE, they were tears of compassion for all who had to look at me. I could avoid the mirror....but my husband, my children, the grocery checker...they could not avoid looking at me. My children were afraid to get their hug before bed that night. Peanut was not even 4, she was so scared of me she would not come near me.
The upcoming image is of my de-oranged, salvageable Meg Ryan look that cost me over 100 bucks to purchase after the original over 100 bucks to aquire.
When my friend and I got back to the house to present my, soon to turn middle aged, husband his surprise birthday present; I fully expected him to laugh out loud and say something very sensitive like, "How much did that cost me?...it looks horrible!" To my astonishment when he opened the door as instructed by my girlfriend's husband, he was silent for a moment, followed by "That is the sweetest thing anyone has ever tried to do for me."