There are several truths in the universe.
The sun rises in the east.
The sun sets in the west.
And I am a blond.
I'm a blond, dammit.
I was born a blond, I've lived a blond and, in my heart, I will always be a blond.
A few months ago, I went darker ... for a change. I needed something new, something different, a refreshing outlook on life.
Hair is an easy way to make that change.
My hairdresser and I agreed on brunette with blond highlights. It would make my hair healthier, she said, instead of stripping away all the colour that has attacked my golden locks as I've aged.
Yeah, there's red, a family affliction ... although I'm not sure my three red-headed brothers consider it so.
And there's gre ... er ... silv ... ah, never mind. There's just a bunch of different colours in there, OK?
The change received great reviews. People loved it.
I grew used to it.
Time came for a touchup but I didn't have the patience for foils and whatnot.
I went all one colour. Brown. Brunette. Lost in the crowd. Blah.
(Caveat: I am soooooooooo not calling all my brunette friends blah. That's just how I felt.)
I went on vacation. Pictures were taken. My friends would show me the pictures on the LCD screen of their cameras.
I had no idea who that brunette staring back at me.
I look in the mirror and I see a stranger.
"I can't wait to dye my hair back to blond. It's about time people saw the real Abi and stopped messing me about," said Abi Titmuss.
I have no clue who Abi Titmuss is. According to Wikipedia, she's some kind of model personality whatever out of the U.K.
But she nails it.
Anything other than blond and I don't know who I am.
So, it's time to get back to the real Angela.
And the balance of the universe.