To Be Blonde

There are many things I complain about in Shanghai, but my hair stylist is not one of them. He is the most amazing person that has ever happened to my long glorious locks. Dennis of West Hair Puxi has been the savior of my blonde highlights.

Before I moved to Shanghai, I was petrified of having to let my natural hair color grow out. The horror! I am not even sure what my natural color is, but I believe it may resemble dirty dishwater (something I haven't seen since moving to Shanghai either, thank you Ayi) I researched online for hours to discover that low and behold, there are many place catering to the bleach-happy foreign crowd. I have frequented Toni and Guy in the States and found that the boys have salons here too. I scoured expat blogs and typed in "best blonde hair Shanghai" into Google, and was thrilled to encounter multiple listings of shops ready to deliver the long sought-after foils.

Unfortunately, blonde tresses come at an exorbitant price. After a full highlight and cut in the States, I forked over around $180. Add in a 20% tip and you're out another $36. Cha-ching! $216! So the first time I go to get my hair done in Shanghai, I visit a very sexy half-Swedish, half-Spanish guy and for just the highlights, it cost me over $200. Ouch! So I tried to convince myself that dishwater was the "new blonde."

Luckily for me, while dining over a scrumptious Thanksgiving dinner last year, I was given the phone number of the Greatest Man That Ever Lived...Dennis! xoxoxo I dialed him up, told him I was in dire need of help. I had roots, I had trees, I had leaves coming out of the top of my head. He easily fit me in that weekend and I was off to a love affair with my hair.

Yesterday, I went to West Hair with my friend Krystle for a full highlight and style. We sipped margaritas indulging in the sunlight at Mexico Lindo on Hongmei before we made the twenty-minute taxi ride to West Hair. Long trip you think? Definitely not for the quality of work and price.

Styling - 3 People

We burst through the door clutching ice teas from Starbucks, ten minutes late, to the chorus of huān yíng, which to this day still sounds like Good Morning to me. The direct us upstairs to an open sunny room with three comfortable chairs and a sink/chair combo for washing. Dennis flutters in and coos over us as he ushers six stylists over to begin our highlights. Three for me and three for Krystle. Dennis discusses something with our entourage in Mandarin and then they scurry to get started.

Full highlights used to be a four-hour process for me in the States and now it is reduced to about three hours including the standard Chinese 20-30 minute head massage while they wash the color out of your hair. The whole experience is marvelous, especially the finale of only having to pay 600 RMB which is around $95. Cheaper than anything I have ever paid for my hair. My hair was blonde, it was curled, and I literally bounced out of the salon.

Dennis owns several salons. One in Beijing and two in Shanghai: one in Puxi and a recently opened one in Pudong. He has incredible customer service skills and only hires the most competent and talented staff. I know he will continue to thrive, taking on more and more clients. Great blonde hair stands out, he doesn't even need to advertise.

So, what will I do next year in Kenya? Once again I voraciously search the internet for salons that do blonde hair. Will I find another Dennis? Will my blonde hair reign supreme? What is a girl to do?

It can rain all the time

I woke up today and for the first time in four months, I saw the sky without a cloud in sight. Had I known the reaction of my body and soul to endless clouds and downpour I would have taken the weather into consideration before moving to Shanghai. The sun still struggles to penetrate the smog but at least its not raining (until Thursday at least according to the weather report).

These last months have felt almost like some sort of apocalyptic punishment, reminiscent of Dante's Inferno. My worship of the sun throughout my life has resulted in an eternity of rain, cold, sleet, and darkness as far from God's warmth and light as possible. Or at least that is how I have felt in Shanghai for the last couple of months, as if I am barely holding my head above the deluge in some unknown inner circle of hell.

My adoration of the sun began when I was born in Saudi Arabia, land of the sun and dryness. An average of 1.1 inches of rain falls in Dhahran. We lived in Kwajalein, a tropical island bathed in glorious sun. Rain fell here in the form of monsoons, warm rains that poured, and then quickly exited. One year was spent in Cote d'Ivoire, which receives tons of rain, but also tons of sun. Finally, I compounded my fate by absorbing an unfair amount of UVA/UVB rays in Tucson, Arizona which averages about 284 days of sun each year. It was only a matter of time before "someone" decided I had had more than my fair share: Shanghai.

But today, heaven's light has finally appeared. I am up early, I feel bright-eyed and bushy-tailed. I plan to get out of the house and challenge the traffic on my purple scooter with my Pomeranian, Loki, strapped into his doggie backpack. No more time can be wasted. I am off to immerse myself in sunshine!

B and B Beginnings

Over a delicious dinner with friends, a blog begins...

It all began with a failing book club: our first book, Bossy Pants by Tina Fey. Oh, yeah, Mean Girls. I had no idea Tina Fey was on Saturday Night Live. After multiple futile attempts to meet, we finally set a date and time at Der Refter, a Belgium restaurant in Shanghai notoriously famous for Belgium fries.

I arrived early and took the extra time to update emails, Words with Friends, and check the status of my wedding guests RSVP website all while enjoying a tasty Bloody Mary Beer, otherwise known as a Michelada. When the others arrived lacking the host, I realized the imminent collapse of our book club had begun. Despite our club's turbulent start, we proposed a new club of books and blogs.

The first meeting would be at my apartment with an African theme since we would be reading Little Bee by Chris Cleave. This also comes at an opportune time because I will be moving to Nairobi, Kenya in July. Must be a coincidence? So we meet to enjoy African ground nut stew, fried okra, and other African delicacies lovingly made from scratch and shared among friends over several bottles of South African wine.

B and B attendees must provide African music, food, wine, and a traditional piece of clothing. Reading the book, optional, talking about the book, optional, having a good time with friends who will soon be parted, absolutely necessary.

And the tale unravels...