When I was little, I loved the cartoon Jem. Well, Jem had hot-pink and white hair. She had a literal band of foes called the Misfits and I liked their style better for some reason. One had electric blue hair and I envied her. ( I had to  look up the name - it was "Stormer")It just so happened Blueberry Muffin was my favorite of the Strawberry Shortcake Gang and so was Little Boy Blue in Rainbow Bright series.

At the ripe old age of five, I asked my mom to color my hair blue and her reaction, to this day, surprises me. She obliged! Now, I don't know if this because she knew her "method" wasn't going to work, she strategically didn't want to inspire rebellion...In any case, she pulled out the food coloring. Yes, the kind you use for frosting and Easter eggs! She dribbled a couple blue drops on a streak of my hair and actually sounded sad when she announced it didn't work.

If she expected that that would be last foray into brightly-colored hair, she'd be wrong. The setting: it was my first day of HS. I was coming off of a brave hair cut, a lopsided chin-length bob with a rat-tail braid (shameful monkey covering eyes emoji). I wanted to make an entrance and I'd seen the most beautiful electric blue shade done in Sassy magazine a couple months prior. So, on a whim, I got to work with a tub of Manic Panic. Now - HERE'S where I got personally sassy: my color wasn't vibrant or dimensional enough...so I grabbed a pack of magic markers. Eek. I know. more shameful monkey emoji. These were just any markers, btw. They were scented. I think there was three different types of blue. Yes, so I got started drawing streaks in my hair. 

My mom was silent. I don't remember here being mad, exactly. You see, we were a hippie creative family and expression was encouraged. However, first impressions and all. 

I don't remember the day all that well, but other people do. It was soccer practice that very first day. I wasn't what you called "athletic", but since I didn't make the cheer team that year, I was stuck with soccer and brash Coach Dilmore. I wore a ribbed white tank and some soccer shorts....Then, it happened. It started to rain. I looked down at my shirt and it was splattered with marker drippings. My skin was quickly becoming tinted blue, running down my face. I shouted some curse words, which (along with hickies and brightly colored hair, after that day - banned). Coach Dilmore barked, "Drop and give me 20!". So there I was, my first day of school, on my hands and feet in mud, and stained like a Smurf. And so, there it was. My nickname, to this day. All because of a want of blue hair.