Summing up the week.

This has been a very stressful time for me. Ive been busy getting the house ready for the visit from the baby and her mother this weekend, working on getting the mortgage set up, and all the paperwork to free up the money for the down payment. I feel like a wound up guitar string ready to snap sometimes. I did get out with my friend Edie for awhile yesterday which helped enormously. Creatively, I haven't had much time to paint, but I have been able to cross stitch and play a bit with the watercolors, and that is the most soothing thing.
The biggest, and most useless fear a human being can have is a fear of the unknown. I deal with fears like that a lot. I just need to get to this weekend visit, to get through the tension and awkwardness of the situation, and things should be fine. One of my dreams has always been to live in my own house. Now that possibility is right in my lap, but I can't really enjoy it until I get these feelings out of my way about Kailey's arrival into our lives. If this baby is Daniel's, I will be first in line to spoil her silly, and love her to death. Here is where the fear of the unknown steps up: what if she isn't his child, and we both get our hearts broken?

This ain't my first rodeo...

..as a step parent. My long suffering readers know I have four already, two being older than I am, two being in their late 20's-early 30's, by my first husband. They came with their own histories, already raised and well on their own path. In fact , the step-son that is just one day older than me is currently also my sister's husband (after John his father died). There was no way for me to warp their minds...that had been done for me years before.

A baby is something different. Babies are little sponges that pick up the least thing. Most people know moms and dads, then go through a divorce, then deal with step parents. This sweet baby wont, at least, have that trauma to go through. I intend to be the only person she will ever know to be married to her dad. That's some big shoes to fill.

The good thing is, she will get another set of grandparents, Aunt and uncle and a slew of cousins in the bargain. My family adore Daniel, and any child of his is one of the family no question.

The "big" little surprise..by Daniel

This is verbatim from Daniel's blog:

"Sit down before you read this... and if you drink get one

This Saturday Tabitha and I went out for dinner and we were waiting for our friends at the restaurant I saw that I had a missed call... so I looked at the # and didn't recognize it.. so I called it back. On the other line was a girl that I was playing with the same time that Tabitha and I first starting out our friendship... Tabitha knew that she, Ashley, and I was messing around but Ashley had issues with the whole swinging lifestyle... so disappeared to find a more conventional relationship.
I had heard that Ashley shacked up with a guy right after me so I didn't bug her and six months after that I met up with her uncle, which is a good friend of mine, and he told me Ashley was pregnant. The first thing I asked was "Am I the father?" and first he stuck out his chest to look like Billy Bad ass and said"That's what you and I need to talk about." ...then he broke into a grin and said "Nah, she knows it's this other guy, I had to mess with ya." I told him to give her my best and that I was happy for her.
Fast forward back to this past Saturday, Ashley asked if I remembered her and I told her that I did and I was glad to hear from her... I was asking questions like "How are you? Where have you been? I heard you were having a baby how is it?"...
That's when she dropped the bomb....
"That's really why I'm calling, you see... I believe the baby is yours."
Well at first, I was dumbfounded, I didn't know what to say, so I let her tell me more about the circumstances. When she found out that she was pregnant she knew it had to be either me or this other dude, (I don't know his name... nor do I care), well when she told him he bolted and she never heard from him again and for the longest time she really thought he was the father, and then she heard of Tabitha and I getting married, and didn't want to intrude with us and was afraid of how I would react, how Tabitha would react, and her boyfriend now that had been with her through the pregnancy didn't want me to know because he was afraid that I would try and get her back, blah blah
The next feelings I had were, OK so I may be a daddy... how is Tab going to handle this? Tabitha and I have been trying to have a baby for awhile, well since we got married anyways, and here comes another lady that has a child by me.
The next was anger for not knowing... but that went away quick... cause I have time to catch up. But all and all I was anxious to meet the baby to see for myself. So I made plans to see the baby the next day.
Well I decided that it would be better to see the baby without Tabitha, just because of all the emotions that I would be having I knew Tabitha needed time getting used to the idea and would be as emotional as I and I really didn't think it would have been pretty. So I went and seen her...
The first time I saw her I knew she was mine, and when she first saw me she smiled, put her hand near her mouth and acted all shy on me but she didn't stop grinning... well until she got tired... Things went well with the mother and she and I were just concerned with the baby.
When I came home I showed pictures of the baby to Tabitha ... she cried and told me she was beautiful and that she was upset more that she wasn't the first that was able to have my baby than any other reason. I held her in my arms and let her know that it was OK.... Tabitha is my life, my lover, my wife, and my best friend, and means more to me than anything. The only thing different now is that I have two women that I would die for. Tabitha... and my daughter Kailey Nicole..."

Some thoughts

Some thoughts...

35 tends to be the age where women are usually half-way to where they are going with their lives. They either chose the housewife route early, and have half grown children, or are well established in their careers, and are just contemplating motherhood. Or they are late bloomers, like me, who feel like they are perpetually stuck in the middle, on paths that wiggle and worm. I have always been a restless late bloomer, normally content to do her own thing and let life carry her where it wants her to be. Career wise, Ive done quite a few jobs in my time, some more legal than others, and have learned from most of them. When I was younger, I always assumed Id have a child some time, when it was meant to be. I always liked being a late bloomer, because the expectations that I would amount to something stupendous and monumental had relaxed, and the pressure to be something I'm not had lessened. At 35, I find that I just am. I exist in the world and since the first flush of promise has passed me, if I do something earth shattering now, it will come as a completely pleasant surprise to my family and friends. I felt this complacency until the phone call at dinner on Saturday night.

Saturday night I realized now that age is not the friend I thought it was. The realization that some things have to be done before you get too old to do them hit me right between the eyes, the proverbial curve ball I didn't see coming to dodge. Now, I am afraid like I have never before been in my life. the possibility of giving my husband the one thing I want and thought I could give him just might have been given by someone else. The look of astonishment and awe a man gets when they get this particular gift for the first time has been taken away from me.

A painter wants to paint a picture, one that can only come from her talent. It is so special she wants to give it to her love, knowing he has never had anything like it before. She looks at the canvas, and keeps looking, unable to get the picture on the canvas. Her love knows how hard she tries to paint the picture, but it just wont happen. Then, in an instant, she looks around and that special painting was painted by someone else, ans she will not be first to give it to her love. Meanwhile the canvas still sits propped up, bare and empty, waiting.

(Insert Circus Music)

It is amazing how one minute you can be sitting in a restaurant, waiting for friends to meet you there, when the cell phone rings. Then, less than a minute later, the life of you and your husband spins like a whirling dervish in another direction totally. Life can throw complicated and wonderful and terrible curve balls right at you. Sometimes the curve ball misses, sometimes its a glancing blow, sometimes it beans you right between the eyes. Daniel has first dibs on telling this story. Once he has posted his blog on his site, I will re-post that entry here, then my response to it. You are hereby warned.

Further article on "Ashley treatment"

I have been discussing the "Ashley treatment" and Pillow angel theme with a lot of people lately, not so much from the blog, but amongst our friends. My view of the situation, that the parents did the right thing by their daughter, has made me sound like a Nazi compared to others in the Medical and Disabled Community. However, the editors of Scientific America, on their site blog, have a different opinion. The article, in its entirety: http://blog.sciam.com/index.php?title=title_5&more=1&c=1&tb=1&pb=1

"January 4, 2007
06:23:43 pm, Categories: Ethics and Science, Medicine, Politics and Science, Public Policy, 980 words
Pillow Angel Parents Deserve Credit, Not Blame

Our online news editor here--Lisa Stein--asked me to post the following for her about the "pillow angel" story from today. Without further ado:
Parents of a severely disabled girl recently revealed that they took the dramatic step of keeping their nine-year-old daughter pint-sized to, in their view, give her a better life. The child, Ashley, has a condition called static encephalopathy, a rare disorder that causes permanent brain damage. The effects on development depend on the part of the brain involved and on the severity of the damage. Developmental problems may include any of a range of disabilities such as cerebral palsy, learning disabilities, mental retardation, autism, PDD, speech delays, attention deficits, hearing and vision impairments, oral motor problems... Ashley's parents, who live in Seattle, report their daughter has the mental capacity of a three-month old baby and cannot walk or talk; they call her "Pillow Angel," because she doesn't move from wherever they put her down, usually on a pillow.
These parents feed and bathe Ashley, clothe and carry her--just as they would an infant. Recognizing she would never improve, they decided to start controversial treatments three years ago that involve giving her hormones to minimize her growth. This has kept her small and made it easier to care for her and involve her in family activities. Ashley's parents also opted for surgery to block breast growth and had her appendix and uterus removed (since she will not be bearing children) to eliminate bleeding and discomfort that might accompany a period. They began administering the hormone therapy in July 2004 through patches on the skin. Ultimately, it could reduce her adult height by 20 percent and her weight by 40 percent.
The parents said on a blog that they were driven by a desire to "provide Ashley with the best quality of life'' and not by the convenience that keeping her tiny might afford them.
Who are any of us to second-guess their motives--or to judge what they have done? Unless parents of children with similar ills, we can imagine but cannot possibly know what goes into dealing with a child in such circumstances, a child who will never grow emotionally or intellectually, never be able to learn or to play... who will be forever dependent on us or on someone else for her care.
It is hard enough to raise a healthy child--let alone one with a condition like Ashley's. Clearly, these parents did not reach their decision lightly or on their own: They sought the input and the approval of a panel of ethics experts at the University of Washington in Seattle--and the treatment was only started after its OK. The board debated and thoroughly explored all of the ethical questions involved, such as whether these parents have the right to tamper with nature and to prevent this child from growing physically or to ever have children of her own.
Dr. Douglas Diekerna, who was on the ethics committee, told the BBC that the panel gave its go-ahead "because the parents convinced us it was in fact in this little girl's best interests... If she were smaller, it would be much easier for them to continue to provide a much more personal level of care.
"Dad is frequently the one that lifts her from one place to the other, so if she gets bigger that becomes much more difficult,'' he said, "as they get older it becomes more difficult. At that point in time, they would be forced to consider using a mechanical lift, which is much more impersonal."
The parents insist that they did not do this to make their lives easier. "Rather," they wrote on a blog, "the central purpose of the treatment is to improve Ashley's quality of life... Faced with Ashley's medical reality, as her deeply loving parents, we worked with her doctors to do all we could to provide Ashely with the best possible quality of life."
Despite the parents' claims, many criticized their actions, arguing, among other things, that this could open the door for parents to impose medical treatments on their children designed to suit their own selfish needs. Where will this stop? some ask.
On the face of it, what these parents are doing might seem inhumane, barbaric, even; some would argue that they have no right to violate Ashley's personal freedom or tamper so flagrantly with nature or, if religious, charge that the parents have no right to interfere with Ashley's God-given body.
They all have their points, but, in the end, it is the parents who must decide what is best for their child.
Ashley has the mental ability of a three-month old infant and physicians have said there is no hope of her ever improving. She cannot walk or talk, she cannot care for herself now and there is no chance that she will ever be able to care for herself.
And therein lies the heart of the matter. It is very easy to judge from afar, but the bottom line is that these parents are doing what many others have chosen not to do or cannot do, perhaps because of a lack of federal and state support: They are caring for their severely disabled child, while others in their situation may have (and have) thrown in the towel long ago and turned over her care to someone else, perhaps even institutionalized her. They deserve credit not criticism. These parents have given us no indication that they are self-motivated, that they are driven by their own needs or greed. If they were, they would have washed their hands of the whole matter the moment they realized the hopelessness of Ashley's situation and the emotional and physical toll her care would take on them.
They also deserve credit for publicly revealing their plight--and opening the debate on such a volatile subject so that others might benefit from the discussion."

new blog

I finally went ahead and started the new blog for my art, entitled
Covered In Paint
http://zezrie-coveredinpaint.blogspot.com/

I will add the link to my links list, and please feel free to criticise if you want.

The Weekly Farewell

The routine is mostly the same every week. We stay up way too late Sunday night , and go to be at 8am on Monday morning. I usually get up earlier than him, and pack the suitcase around 1Pm. Today, I was up with a sad tummy and packed it at 10am between potty breaks, while he slept. The contents of the suitcase? Four changes of clothes for the week, and a towel.

I went to be at about 10:30ish, and got up at 1:30. We got some new pirated movies this weekend and I started making copies for him. He made a pot of coffee for his thermos and mug, and got the Gamecube packed up. He got the new Legends of Zelda Twilight Princess this weekend with Xmas money, and he will play it for weeks. After copying movies, at 2:30, I get dressed and help him carry down all the stuff he's taking with him. The great ceremony we go through each time before he leaves the house is to ask him this: do you have your keys, wallet, cell phone, and smokes? If he does, he's set to go. It is colder than what I realized, I didn't have a coat on. he has no window in the passenger side of the truck, so good thing he is bundled up in the leather jacket. I give him a huge kiss and hug, and watch him pull out on the beginning of the two hour drive for West Virginia and away from me.

This is the beginning of the week for me. Now, until early Saturday morning, I am usually alone in silence. The first day or two I enjoy it, since my beloved tends to run on all cylinders, and it can be exhausting to keep up with him sometimes. By Wednesday, the silence is deafening. By Friday, I'm chomping at the proverbial bit waiting for him. The week is usually made up of housework, blogging, sometimes painting, and a lot of educational TV and PlayStation 2. I'm sitting here, sipping leftover coffee from his pot he made, writing this all down because it can be so surreal at times. This grounds me.

GRRRRRRRR.. Medical Ethicists

Before I begin to rant, I will fill you in a bit on what I'm bitching about. The parents of little girl named Ashley, who has severe brain damage and is pretty much in an infantile state, decided to have her go through surgery to remove her reproductive organs, and extreme hormone therapy to stunt her growth. The parents argument is that this was done for three reasons: to keep her small so they could continue to care for her at home, to keep her from going through the pain of puberty, and to keep from getting breasts, as breast cancer runs in her family.

Now, again before I rant, let me share with you why I have a right to bitch. I have been a caregiver to a severely handicapped child that, before her death, had to be put into a nursing home because she grew to 5'4, too big to be taken care of by her also disabled father. I have also been the sole caregiver to an adult male who at his lightest was still 125 lbs. The medical ethicists around the country have been pitching a fit, claiming the parents "perverse" to stunt this child's growth just to make it easier for them to care for. University of Pennsylvania ethicist Art Caplan went so far as to say that this case was a ' "slippery slope" thinking among parents who believe "the way to deal with my kid with permanent behavioral problems is to put them into permanent childhood."'
(http://www.cnn.com/2007/HEALTH/conditions/01/04/ashley.treatment.ap/index.html

Here is my bitch: has any of these learned doctors ever taken care of a disabled person? Have they had to pick up a person the same size as they are out of a bed, or off a toilet, or into a wheelchair by themselves ? have they ever had to look into the eyes of a disabled person after that person has been taken away from everything they have ever known, to be taken care of by strangers who could be indifferent to their well being? I have, and I'd rather cut my own heart out than to ever see it again. Until any of these ethicists can tell me that they have, then I do not want to hear them caterwaul about this little girls parents. This child will never be intellectually or developmentally older than 6 months old. These parents are guaranteeing that they will be able to care for her their whole lives without the worry of dropping or hurting her because she is too big to be lifted. They will never have to see her go through the difficulty of menstruation. They will also never have to worry about her developing health problems from hereditary breast cancer down the road. In the CNN article, the child's own doctors agreed to go through with the procedures because they saw the dedication of the parents, and knew they were not doing this for selfish reasons. They also knew this little girl would not go through further harm from the treatments to stunt her growth.

Until the day our society begins to make caregiving of the elderly and disabled a major priority, I do not want to hear one person criticise these parents. they love their daughter, and want to keep her at home where she would get the best care. Until ethicists learn that caregiving is more than just changing diapers, and they walk in these parent's shoes a few miles, I DO NOT WANT TO HEAR THEM, AND THEY CAN SHUT THEIR FUCKING MOUTHS.

Key West dreaming...

"Reading departure signs in some big airport

Reminds me of the places I've been.

Visions of good times that brought so much pleasure

makes me want to go back again."

"Changes In Latitudes, Changes In Attitudes"

Jimmy Buffett

Somewhere deep in my DNA I was born with a travelling bone. I blame my father for this, he never could sit still. by the time I was 11 and he deserted us in Kentucky, I think I had lived in 6 states and travelled cross country 4 times. It wasn't until I was 25, and met a man with a wandering streak himself, that I realized i could let that gypsy run free..and I did. During my first marriage, I travelled cross country twice and lived in 5 states. I have seen 38 states in my life. I miss Key West the most.

The funny thing is probably some of the hardest parts of my adult life was in Key West. My husband was diagnosed with leukemia after living there 3 weeks, so no insurance. I worked nights sometimes 60 hours a week, then never slept during the days to take care of him. On advice of my therapist (Goddess only knows how I survived without her) I walked, then ran everyday after work. I got to know every nook and cranny of old town Key West that way. There's a hidden park in the middle of Solares Hill that I would stop by and cry during my walk/runs. I would go from the Casa Marina on the Atlantic to the shrimp docks on the Gulf of Mexico. I was so stressed out, but funny enough, I don't ever think I felt so alive and so dead at the same time. I had enough intuition to know when to leave it, because I knew I had to take John home to die, deep inside me. It was still one of the hardest things Ive ever done.

It has been 5 years since I left Key West. I know probably no one remembers me there anymore. I have heard amputees talking about feeling their missing limb even after it's gone (including my mother), and I feel that way about KW sometimes. Like that little island was a part of me that was violently taken away, and the missing of it still aches unbearably sometimes. It was the only place that felt like home for me for a long time. Maybe I will talk Daniel into taking a trip there one day. I just fear, like some memories tend to do, that my memories of Key West will be destroyed if I ever go back, that the rose colored glasses will be removed. Alas, I still want to go.

Rockers wipes me out

We went to a Rockers party this past weekend for new years. I believe I'm coming out of my phase about playing. Its probably because I have come to accept my body and not care what anyone else thinks. I didn't say I LIKED my body, mind you, just that i have accepted that this is what it is and try to improve the best I can during cold weather. Needless to say, we both had a good time, and I didn't sleep a lot. I have been playing catchup all this week, with today being the day i just collapsed and slept 20 hours. It takes me a week to recover nowadays. The cold weather and lack of sleep and over excitement gets me. LOL I'm not stopping either .

Some would say, "What cold weather?" It has been unseasonably warm in the Southeast. It is not, however, warm enough for me to function at all cylinders. Warm to me is 75 degrees, warm enough to have open windows and for me to go outside in shorts and short sleeves. It wont be that until May, so for now I deal.

Happy friggin new year

Well, 2007 is finally here: last years events:
Got married,
did some painting,
failed at being a Housefrau (lucky for me Daniel loves me anyway),
gained weight, lost weight, gained weight,
got laid (as much as I wanted),
became a video gamer, specializing in RPG's (gee thanks honey),
got depressed, got meds, got better.

This is a short list, since my new year was technically Oct. 31. Spent last night with my three favorite people: Daniel, Mom and Dad. I had half a daiquiri-I'm such a partier. I started out 2007 making love with my husband, what better way to start a new year.

Cool new network site for artists.

The world famous Saatchi Gallery has a new section called Stuart (http://www.saatchi-gallery.co.uk/stuart/) especially for beginning, student, or under represented artists. Its essentially a MySpace for artists. The buzz is that artists are getting sales on this site that they normally wouldn't get so early in their careers. Since I have no illusions about my artistic ability, none of my stuff is there yet. It is, however , cool to look at the profiles and see what others are doing in the art world.

Xmas post..What love really means: The Best

This was posted on Xmas eve by brainhell (http://brainhell.blogspot.com/)
as a letter to his wife I assumed. He has ALS, and is deteriorating rapidly.

"You will probably feel a LOT of guilt over the circumstances of my death. This is because it is likely to seem like a preventable accident. I will probably suffocate somehow. And you will blame yourself for not being home, or not responding faster to that noise. I may even be trying to get to you, and might die in evident distress. Sure, suffocating scares me -- I'll be frightened. But unless you take a golf club to my head, know that I DON'T BLAME YOU. I do not want you feeling guilty over something that crept up on us so slowly. Listen to me: My death happened. The circumstances may have been desperate, but I'll know then as I know now: THERE'S NOTHING TO BLAME YOURSELF ABOUT. I lived much longer and much more happily because of you."

There are so many of his posts about his wife and how she takes very good care of him. Care giving is one of the most difficult and rewarding things you can do for a spouse. I had the privilege of being one once to John, and Goddess forbid, I would be one again in a heartbeat if Daniel ever needed me. Love at it's best is both selfless and appreciated. I dedicate this post to brainhell and his wife as a example on what love really is, and as a reflection of the love Christ meant us to feel, if you are a believer. This is the love Christmas is meant to bring out and reflect, I wish this to all people this day.

Xmas post..What love really means: The worst.

Christmas seems to bring out either the worst, or the best in all families. I've seen both this holiday weekend. As for the worst:

Daniel's mother is a very self-absorbed woman. Daniel had a small wreck in the truck last week, where the passenger window was broke. The weather wasn't so bad that we couldn't drive it locally, but to Hazard would have been a bit miserable, even though the weather wasn't as bad as it could have been. She has refused in the past to come visit here, and Daniel has had to be the one to make all the effort in their relationship. After 4 days of making excuses for not visiting ( my mom is here a lot, even though she lives 2 1/2 hours away), as of today Daniel has had enough of her. He told his mother today to never call again, he was tired of her loving him only when it was convenient to her. I cried when I was in the other room as I listened to the conversation, because as much as I want to mother his pain away, there is only one woman who can do that, and she refuses.

THE DUH FACTOR..AN ONGOING SERIES

"WASHINGTON (Reuters) - U.S. growers produce nearly $35 billion worth of marijuana annually, making the illegal drug the country's largest cash crop, bigger than corn and wheat combined, an advocate of medical marijuana use said in a study released on Monday. "

It took a national study to figure this out? And, big surprise, here are the top 5 grower states: California, Tennessee, Kentucky, Hawaii and Washington. Any person on the damn street, let alone people like my self who live in one of those states , could have told the policy makers this. My own mother sold pot to keep us clothed and fed when we were only getting a 400$/month welfare check growing up. Pot revenue is feeding a lot of people in Appalachia. If there was any other sort of industry here besides coal, this wouldn't be a necessity. At at $1,606 per pound for the grower, can you blame anybody for having some cannabis amongst the tomatoes and corn in the garden?

Running a Swing club

Ive been doing a bit of research about the running of on-site Swing clubs recently. As many people as we have in this area that swing, it would be the coolest to have an on site establishment here in Pikeville. The closest to here would be Knoxville, Columbus, or Lexington. West Virginia has no on-site premises. There are a few very private resorts, but you have to know someone to get there, and they tend to be expensive. A small place with a social room and a few playrooms, a jacuzzi room, a locker room/shower room would be ideal. maybe a BYOB area with mixers, and maybe lite finger food. it would only be open on weekends. its a cool dream.

Not much going on...

As you might have noticed, I haven't been posting much lately. There has not been much happening in my world. It is winter, which means most of my time is fighting off illness. The fibro weakens my immune system, so the winters are a battle of one virus after another. The past 3 weeks has consisted of: 24 hr flu, laryngitis, and perpetual cough, and off and on low grade fever. There is no use going to the doctor, since there is nothing that can be done for viruses other than support stuff (liquids, rest, etc.), and I really don't need exposed to new stuff. We have a Rockers party New Years Eve weekend, and that plus holiday visiting will be the extent of my social life this month. I will be on the couch mostly.

recipe for my life

From Merriam-Webster Dictionary (http://www.m-w.com):

Chronic Fatigue Syndrome

Function: noun: a disorder of unknown cause that is characterized by persistent profound fatigue usually accompanied by other symptoms (as headache and tender lymph nodes) unrelated to any preexisting medical condition -- abbreviation CFS

Fibromyalgia
Pronunciation: "fI-"brO-"mI-'al-j(E)&Function: noun
Etymology: New Latin: any of a group of rheumatic disorders affecting soft tissues and characterized by pain, tenderness, and stiffness of muscles and associated connective tissue structures

Take a heaping helping of Fibromyalgia and CFS, mix liberally with isolation and boredom, and fold in loneliness and frustration. Let stew for 5 days a week, every week. Watch the pot, it easily boils over.

Tye dyed hair

I started this hair adventure with the purest and best of intentions: I didn't want to wear a hot wig to Rockers this year. So, in my foolish innocence, I dyed it black, thinking it would be easy to fix......

I started last week by putting a red dye on the top to make it two toned. The reality was red roots and the rest still black. So, I pondered this problem this weekend and during that time I was in Wal-Mart in the hair color isles, and saw the bleaching kits. Once again, in a moment of innocence (ignorance/stupidity), i bought it and put it in last night. The black came out, but what I was left with probably has never been seen in nature before this moment.

My roots are a lovely shade of strawberry blond. From about an inch from my scalp to about 4 inches from the ends its a gorgeous copper-orange...The ends are a dark copper. My hair has a nice, waterfall effect going on. The fact of the matter is I wanted it different ...and now it is. Daniel hasn't seen it yet but thought the whole thing was hysterical.