Thursday, July 8
11pm: I dye my hair blonde, with store-bought dye in my bathroom. Results are mixed.
Friday, July 9
9am - 6pm: Work a normal day. Go into the office to play with Chelsia, Lacy and Oona. Do not, at any point, actually even plug in my computer.
8pm: Head up to the roof to BBQ with my neighbors. They like my new hair. I still have my doubts. Am already plotting the ensuing insanity.
10pm: Wash and cut my own hair. Not, like, carefully, but rather chop off random inches in random places with a passion. Cut it past the jaw line. Cut in “layers.” Cut cut cut. Cut anywhere. Keep cutting. Because there’s something off about my connection with God lately because of a lot of other shit that’s gone down recently, and when I lose that connection to God it leaves room for that voice in my head that says “Go Go Go Go Go Go Go Do Something Change Everything Try Anything IT IS NOT OKAY RIGHT NOW Go Go Go Go Don’t Stop Until I Stop Saying Go Go Go Go Go.”
Saturday, July 10:
10am: Wake up and remember the hair thing. Go to the mirror and look at the hair. I don’t panic. It’s interesting, is all. I marvel at last-night me. I’m not scared of her, I notice. The thing in me that does such things no longer terrifies me, I notice. I just notice.
10:05am: Call a salon. Inform them of the emergency.
12:45pm: Arrive at salon. Meet my stylist. I’ve never been there before or met her before. I’m nervous and convinced she’s an idiot, but she’s an idiot with access to the industrial-strength blonde hair dye I need, so I’m here. She marvels at my situation but is very kind about it. Also, the salon has a DJ and a back room where you change into a robe before your cut, spa-style.
4:00pm: She has fixed it. My hair now has a gorgeous crop cut and perfect color. It looks amazing. She was in no way an idiot. She was the opposite of that. I marvel at how much better people are at doing things when they’ve been trained to do them professionally and then practiced them a whole bunch. Wonder why I always operate under the assumption that I can do anything at all as well as anybody at all because no one can ever improve at anything by practicing and so why wouldn’t I be able to be the best at anything I try? Wonder how I came to adopt that assumption, and why nothing in my past has managed to disabuse me of it. Is this self-esteem, narcissism, insanity, or a mix?
This is the cut, although it looks much more strawberry blonde in this photo. It’s actually just straight-up blonde:
4:05pm: Hairdresser removes the apron she’s thrown over me during my cut. Somehow, in this process, the robe underneath has come undone. The better part of the salon gets a good look at my bare breasts. Hairdresser is far more embarrassed than I am.
6pm: Arrive at Tap House to meet Renaissance Woman and fellow Crossfitter Lyndi and whomever else shows up for the pre-party we’ve organized before the big Mashable event tonight. We’re joined by my startup-world buddies Adam the Lawyer, Carlos the SEO Guy, and Buzz the Most Eligible Bachelor in Seattle. Later, we get to meet social media junkies and Evil Beet fans Jessica, Rachel and Alaina. They are nothing short of awesome sauce. We bore the boys by talking about celeb gossip for the whole dinner. Here’s a pic of me with the girls:
And here’s a pic Adam took of my new ‘do:
8:30pm: Arrive at Mashable event. Talk to a million people. Rachel Sklar, a total role model of mine, is hosting the livestream. She sends a member of her crew to find me so that she can interview me for the stream. Rachel Sklar asked to interview me. It pretty much made my whole night. We chatted about Evil Beet and Zelda Lily, my new haircut, and I got to whore myself out in exchange for a possible ride on a boat. I hope the footage ends up available somewhere, because it was pretty funny.
I also had an opportunity to chat with Kushal Chakrabarti, the CEO of Vittana. It’s the second time I’ve met him, and I just absolutely adore Vittana and I plug it whenever I get the chance. It’s the first non-profit to offer micro-loans to finance higher education for third-world students. It’s currently in the process of exploding, and it couldn’t be happening to a nicer guy with a greater cause. I’ve made these loans through Vittana myself, and I encourage you to do the same. They have a 97% repayment rate or something ridiculous like that. “If they do default,” said Kushal, “then it’s the worst investment you ever made but it becomes the best donation you ever made.” So true.
9:30pm: Find my beloved Heidi Miller. We want to take dirty pictures with the cardboard cut-out of Pete Cashmore in the corner. The photographer won’t allow it. “Just my tongue?” I ask. “We won’t take that photo,” she says. Later in the night, we will steal the cardboard cut-out and I will take the photo my way:
10pm: Find the Bing photo booth in the corner. Take this photo with Lyndi, Rachel and Jessica:
Love it love it love it. It’s so, so, so wonderful to meet fans who are absolutely cool people who I enjoy hanging out with and are not psychos who leave random comments on the Internet intended to hurt me. Reminds me that I’m not writing this stuff into a vacuum of psychopaths.
11:30pm: Mashable party ends. Those of us still awake head over to Ozzie’s for karaoke.
Sunday, July 11
12:15am: At Ozzie’s, am introduced to a girl named Kendall. My Gatsby app has been telling me to meet her all over the city for the past week. She was like “Oh my God, you’re Sasha??? Gatsby keeps telling me to meet you!!!” So we were fated to be besties, which works because she’s awesome. I also had time to chat with Monica Guzman, Seattle’s blogging princess (seriously, she was voted Seattle’s Sexiest Blogger this year, a title she dismisses modestly but deserves — she’s sexy in that “I’m beautiful but I’m also a smart, funny, good girl” kind of way).
1:30am: On the heels of Miss Larissa’s brilliant rendition of “I Like Big Butts,” the bar announces last call. I say my goodbyes and head home.
I am exhausted.
But my hair?
Looks awesome.
I feel a new beginning creeping in. I feel God coming back into my life to fill that void. These episodes get farther apart and shorter each time. I am getting better at something with practice.
