Singing the hair color blues
It all happened about a week ago. I was looking in the mirror in the bathroom at work. You see, that mirror was crafted in the very pits of hell by Satan himself. The bathroom has a harsh, fluorescent light that shows every single freckle, pimple, wrinkle and hair out of place.
Of course, when I bend over the sink to wash my hands I find myself nose to nose with the evil mirror. It was in one of those recent staring sessions that I noticed something shiny in the front of my hair. Hmm... must be a sporadic blonde hair. How strange is that?
The next day, I noticed the blonde hair had a buddy. Even stranger.
A few days go by and I start to notice those strange hairs in different mirrors. And, no matter how many I pulled out it seemed that I found two more. What kind of hairs are these?
I think I knew the answer in the back of my mind, but it wasn't until I placed one of those hairs on a colored piece of paper that the truth was staring me right in the face. I have gray hair. Not just a few, but a bunch!
I decided in November to go back to my natural hair color. Little did I know that my natural color now includes gray!
I called my mom in a panic and asked her how old my dad was when his hair started turning gray. The answer -- 28. I just turned 28 this month!
I guess I shouldn't be surprised, but I would be lying if I didn't tell you the whole thing has been a little surreal to me. Also, some of my words have also come back to haunt me. I've always said I love pretty, silver hair and can't wait until mine turns that color. I've always proudly pronounced that I wouldn't dye my hair and don't understand why others do.
I guess it's true what they say about you never know what you'll do until you find yourself in a situation. I'm not ashamed to say that I marched across the street to the hair salon and quickly made an appointment to preserve my youth a little longer. Suddenly, 28 is starting to feel very old.