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- Melanie
I just washed my hair and I can't do a thing with it.
Okay, so I washed it several hours ago, actually. But it's just being weird. They say your body goes through changes every seven years. The place I notice it most is in my hair. I started going gray at 21. I used to have these blondish areas at my temples I no longer have. I have about seven different texures in there, from thick and wavy to thinner and curly to very fine and silvery.
The huz and I were watching tv when a hair color commercial came on. I said, "Y'know, part of me wants to just strip my hair to see how much gray I really do have."
His reply? "But your hair's not gray...."
Poor sweet deluded thing. He actually thinks I color my hair just for fun. Yeah, turning our bathtub into a horror movie every six weeks is my idea of "fun." See these kind of goldish red "highlights," dear? Whaddaya think they'd look like without the goldish red? Luckily I do have silvery stuff, so it'll probably look nice when I do give up the ghost and go natural.
But I digress. Ooh, and snarkily so! Please read the above "goldish highlights" comment with a tone of world-weary bemusement, and I shall attempt to check my PMS at the door.
The main problem I'm having is general hair misbehavior. Yes, my hair is bouncin', but it ain't behavin'. In May, I had about four or five inches cut off. I was doing a show set in '38, and I wanted to be able to do something vaguely period with my hairstyle. Since then, my hair, which has a bit of a wave but willingly succumbs to the ministrations of a hairdryer and yields with minor effort to The Enormous Hairbrush has been downright...ornery.
It flips.
If I wanted to look like Laura Petrie, I'd set my hair with beer cans.
I only really blow dry my hair A) if I'm going somewhere special or B) if I have the time. So natch, my hair is usually pretty damp on the way to work. And usually tameable with a few swats of The Enormous Hairbrush. Not lately. I don't know if it's the cut, or if the seven-year cycle is rearing its ugly head, as I am about to turn ::coff::35::coff::.
35. Somehow I think it's gonna be a scary one. Smack-dab in the middle of my thirties. Out of that 18-34 demographic. What comes next, 35-50?? Hooboy. And 35 marks the end of the Glorious Five Year Plan, when I told myself (and others) I'd start to consider the "having children" situation. I'll be turning 35, and my dad will turn 70. And the huz will turn 40. Numbers, numbers, numbers.
30 was not a big deal,as I recall. 32 was a bit, because it fell on a Friday, which was the actual day of my birth. And all I could think about was that 32 years ago, a woman was giving birth to me, and she hasn't seen me since, and knows nothing of what I've become. I'd like to let her know what I've become.
Maybe that'll be something to do, next year.
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a very fine cat indeed - Friday, Jan. 17, 2014
happy new year! - Thursday, Jan. 24, 2013
this is where i am - Saturday, Jun. 30, 2012
this is how it is - Friday, Feb. 24, 2012
a very late last year's wrap-up - Wednesday, Jan. 18, 2012
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