brown in the morning
Marc and I ventured into Tutuban, right next door to Divisoria and Tondo, in the heart of Manila, to look for things for our store.
I was pleasantly surprised. I was expecting the worst - a fetid maze of stalls in dizzifying (to borrow from Rushdie) squalor and heat. Instead, I found that Tutuban had been organized in the recent years into a series of air-conditioned malls. So, in cool air and an environment bereft of crowds (because it was early in the week and everyone was at work). There were so many places to look at, and ultimately, we decided to pick some new toys and explore Divisoria (known nowadays as "Divi") next week (and with the exception of Divi Mall, that area is truly scary).
green in the afternoon
After I received stultifyingly happy news (that I can only reveal 6 days from now - watch for it), I finally decided to go ahead and dye my hair.
My barbershop couldn't do it. Ricky Reyes couldn't do it. Optima Salon couldn't do it. Precy's Salon said thry'd try but it would be a) expensive; b) painful; and c; no guarantee that I'd get the white I wanted.
Because I am not Caucasian, thus the initial bleach will not produce white, and instead produce corn-yellow. But from there, with repeated bleachings in the span of a few hours, plus the application of silver, I'd get...some hair color, but definitely not white.
"Silver?" I asked.
"Green," they said.
"Fine, fine," I agreed and subjected myself to their untender ministrations. And boy did it hurt. My scalp felt like it was on fire, bitten by a thousand thousand angry ants and I could not do anything about it.
For a brief time, after the initial bleaching, I had yellow hair. As in scarily blonde, yellow, xanthic hair, Rapunzel-gold and terrifying.
And then...green. Oxidized copper green.
"Statue of Liberty-green," Nikki said.
And there you have it.
Am I happy it with? I'm delighted!
But not Sage. Read on.
blue in the evening
Sage stood stunned by my oddly viridian locks.
"No, Dad, no!" she protested, bursting into tears.
"But look at Daddy's funny hair," I said, helpless in the face of her distress.
"No, Dad," she cried. "I want black!"
"But this is Daddy's new hair," I said. "Remember, I told you last night?"
"No, no, I want black!"
Nikki tried to explain but Sage was adamant. My heart sank. And then:
SAGE: I want blue.
ME: But this is greenish.
SAGE: No, I want blue.
NIKKI: For Daddy?
SAGE: For me!
ME: For you?
NIKKI: Honey, we can't just change your hair color. You look beautiful.
SAGE: No, no, Mommy. You find! I want blue.
ME: Well, this certainly isn't covered in "How to be a Great Dad".
And so Nikki got Sage's paint set and applied a dab of blue to the child's hair.
SAGE: Dad, look!
ME: Oh, your hair is blue!
Now how long I can keep this hair color that so unnerves my beloved daughter only time will tell...