An old one.

From time to time, when I don't have anything to blog about, I'll post one of my old columns from The Baytown Sun. Here's one from early 2004:

By Deana Nall
The Baytown Sun

"I'm not offended by all the dumb blonde jokes because I know I'm not dumb. And I also know that I'm not blonde." -- Dolly Parton

I don't have much in common with Dolly Parton, but, as someone who converted to blond-ism 15 or so years ago, I'm right there with her about the blonde jokes. My hair color comes from Clairol, not from God. So the jokes don't apply to me.

And now that researchers have discovered that dark hair dyes can cause cancer, there's another reason to go blond.

But every once in a while, someone wants to know. Why did I join the blonde ranks? Is my natural hair color so dreadful that I must keep it hidden my entire life?

No. It was a nice, warm golden brown that almost looked red in certain kinds of light. But it was my senior year in high school, and I had to rebel some way.

In the late '80s, at least where I lived, tattoos and body piercings were still reserved for biker chicks and rock stars.

I did get my left ear pierced four times, but it wasn't enough. I wanted something more drastic, and my salvation from the ordinary came in the form of a little bottle of Sun-In.

I don't know what's in Sun-In. I think it's hydrogen peroxide. But it turned my hair orange.

So after walking around looking like an orangutan for a while, I decided to cover up the orange with some "Light Natural Blond" I found at the drugstore.

Being a new blonde was fun. I didn't get mistaken for a die-hard University of Texas fan anymore. I had to get used to realizing people were talking to me when they said, "Hey! You with the blonde hair!"

I went through a host of hair colors in college, but I always came back to blond.

And I discovered another perk to blondhood. I had completed a rite of passage. At least in my family. My mom, aunt and grandmother all dyed their hair from as far back as I could remember. When I joined them, I dubbed us "The Clairol Club." We had fun with it for a while, showing up at family gatherings with matching hair.

"You look so much like your mom," people would tell me, unaware of the fact that before 1988, we hardly resembled each other at all.

My grandmother stayed blond until she died in 1996. Not long afterward, my aunt revoked her membership in the Clairol Club when she quit coloring her hair.

But my mom and I are still going strong. And there are so many neat colors to choose from now! You don't have to just go blond anymore. You can go "Chamomile," "Ginger Ale" or "Sugar Cane." Or if you'd rather become a redhead, you can choose from "Pomegranate," "Luscious Mango," and a host of other colors that sound good enough to eat.

So if you want to see what another color would look like on your head, go for it. Whether you become a "Seashell," "Praline" or "Dark Chocolate," I think you'll have a lot of fun.

Just stay away from the Sun-In.