Colouring Weekend.

Everyone and everybody wants to be individual these days. We are so caught up with our daily routines in life that it nauseates us. It's like watching a rerun of a golf tournament for 365 days a year and for the rest of our remaining years. It's boring, it's pathetic and it shortens our life span. The lab rats half the globe away have confirmed that a life lived in a boring manner without any form of stimulation will ultimately kill you faster than stage 3 cancer. I might be found guilty of a little exaggeration but am I wrong to say that a boring life is, by all means, no life at all? That said, being on top of the food chain and most probably being the first to destroy our own habitat, we, the human species are the blessed with the ability to innovate, create and conceive. And as such, in order to save ourselves from eternal boredom, the lab rats have invented the color hair dye.

Yes, the color dye. The one invention that makes us all individual or at least give us a false sense of exclusivity. You can walk down a street with a sea of asian black heads and be proud to be the only one with blonde, copper or even maple brown hair. If you had breasts, you could swing your head from side to side in slow motion and people will stop and stare in awe as though the whole scene was taken out of a shampoo commercial. If the Germans had discovered color hair dye first, they'd probably had won WW2. Nothing is as fearful as a purple headed Germans or a Yellow headed Nazi charging with color coded formations.

So how could I miss out on experiencing the biggest invention since the colored liquid paper. I then happily traveled to my local K4 and chose, out of a shelf of hair color conglomeration, a Sundance brand with the wordings 'Copper Red' inscribed on the bottom right corner. The picture on the package was a lady with a subtle brownish, reddish, goldish hair which spoke personality but yet illusive. Perfect...just what I need. How was I to know that an hour later, I had sucessfully turned myself into a freaking COCK! I'd always thought beautifying products like these would often over promise and under deliver. So when it said copper red, I thought it was what was shown on the picture. But noooo...they had to under promise and over deliver. They had to go and make copper red....red. And here I was facing the bathroom mirror. I was in awe alright. And I now know first hand how frightening a red headed German would me. In front me was a red headed asian and I was already petrified. My GOD what have I done! But be optimistic I told myself. I could now visit a farm house and score more hens than the local casanova cock. I visualized myself standing under a traffic light and all the cars would stop even though the lights were green. The heck with penalty cards, a player makes a foul, the referee would just blow his whistle and call me into the field.

It was already a Saturday evening and it was too late to un-red my hair. To make matters worst, I had a dinner to attend and was meeting up with my associates at a chic Italian restaurant down at Sommerset hotel. With hair like this, I'd set the pasta on fire I thought. I have to admit, being a red head (literally) did infact attracted much attention. I noticed chicks were stealing glances at me time and time again. Not sure if it's out of attraction or fascination. I'd think it was the latter as though I was a rare zoo captive. Sunday morning was my savior. Or at least that's what I thought. I forced myself out of bed and, zoomed to nearest Guardian. Again I was faced with an assortment of colors. This time I chose a Gatsby. Bleach and Colored it said. Rusty Brown it said. Yeah rite. An hour of yet another chemical treatment later, I still looked like a cherry lollipop. Off I went to my Sunday badminton session feeling like a clown. I guess one of my badminton kakis was too mesmerized by the shade of red on my head because the shuttle from my smash landed directly above her eye and she didn't even tried to take evasive measure. Another testament to the color hair dye. Maybe BAM should consider dying the player's head with rainbow colors and we might just stand a chance at winning the upcoming World Championships.

Last attempt at un-redding my hair. This time with a Loreal. And this time, no chances, I went with BLACK. It was a delicate procedure this hair dying business. The chemical mixtures had to be applied evenly unless you have an intention to look like a zebra. And considering this was the third time I was having my hair shampoo-ed in chemical milkshake, I might need to really go bald come Monday if this last attempt failed. Ten minutes and a rinse later and voila! I was back to normal again. No fiery red, no rusty brown. Just black. Boring old un-individualistic black. And how I loved black.......now. Black is good. Black means I no longer need to date hen. Black means I do not need to face the wrath of my boss. And most importantly, black means I'm human again, not some creature of the wild in heat.