Is it a bird? Is it a plane? Is it a gonk, facing you with its eyes closed?
Or is it perhaps a blogger who’s gone mental (sorry, more mental) and dyed his hair blue?
Radio station Today FM are running a “Shave or Dye” campaign in order to raise money for the Irish Cancer Society, and about seven of us were discussing it at lunch in the office last week when I heard my voice saying “if you’ll all sponsor me, I’ll dye my hair blue.” This is one of the things I’ve learned about derealisation, it will never make you do something you believe is wrong, but will sometimes make you do things that might be right, but might also need some thinking through.
Anyway, I went to the boss and I asked if could I email the whole office, saying that if I raised over 500 euro I would replace my picture on the intranet with one of me with blue hair for the next six months. He said if I did that the company would match the 500 euro, so I came out of the meeting, logged on to the website, and (in a phrase that’s all too apt) was committed.
On Friday my sponsorship pack was delivered to the house. I was informed of this via a one line email from the totally supportive Mrs Tin which said (her asterisks, not mine): “Your “I’m a f**cking eejit” kit has arrived.”
So yesterday morning I emailed all the staff, then at one o’clock GoldenEyes (official photographer and moral support) and I set off. The girls in the salon (Peter Mark in Henry Street) were brilliant, chatted to me all through the two hours the whole thing took, asked could they take photos, and when we went to pay they said we didn’t have to, they’d had a whip-round among themselves and raised enough to pay for it, and gave me a tenner which they had left over.
By chance the WordPress suggested post topic for last Sunday was about “random acts of kindness”. It’s hard to beat something like that.
When I left I looked like this:
People have suggested that I look like a Smurf, but they are wrong. Smurfs are blue with white hair on top, whereas I am white, with blue hair on top.
I do not look like a Smurf. I look like a toilet brush.
Still, it’s been worth it. I’ve already collected well over my target, lots of people who work out of the office have promised money when they are in next and I still have to go to my local at the weekend, where my pubmates know nothing about this and had better cough up after they finish laughing themselves into a coughing fit.
A number of people have asked when I’m going to wash it out, but I had felt it wasn’t fair to ask people to give me money just for looking daft for one afternoon. So this is permanent (except it doesn’t last forever, the word permanent seemingly has a different meaning in hairdressing), I had my hair bleached before the blue colour went in and it’s here until it grows out.
And that’s where the “thinking it through” might have come in handy.
For Christmas Mrs Tin and I were given tickets to the Russian Ballet on March 18th, and now I’ll be going there with blue hair.
The next day the Irish Blog Awards are on in Belfast, and now I’ll be going there with blue hair.
And at some time during March I’ve to go back to my psychiatrist, and now I’ll be going there with blue hair.
Even now I can picture him staring at me, sighing, picking up his phone and saying “cancel all my appointments for the rest of the day.”
I may not even tell him why I did it, let’s see how good he really is.