I never did finish "25 Days of Books." I can't believe I faithfully did it for 24 days then on the 25th and final day, I just couldn't bring myself to post anything. I still can't, even if I know exactly who I'll be posting about. But I figure I've got until Friday to do it. Surely you can hang on until then.
The week between Christmas and New Year's has, for some time now, been one of my favorite weeks of the year. It is, after all, the week I "met" my husband Mick online fourteen years ago. He responded to my personal ad on AOL Digital City LA and we corresponded a couple of days before talking on the telephone. The whole thing culminated in a New Year's Eve 1996 meeting (technically we met in person on January 1, 1997). Picture me shoving a plastic cup full of champagne into his hand and saying "here, drink this quick." These were my first words to him face-to-face, and I think he knew then he had a keeper.
But that isn't even what I came here to post about. For several years now, I've been fantasizing about letting my hair grow in gray. Oh, it's not as if I'm snow white on top, but I do have quite a few pretty little gray hairs that are just aching to come out.
When I presented my plan to my aunt, a look of horror crossed her face. Her response, as she petted her own perfectly highlighted hair, was: "Why would you ever do that? You'd look like some old hippie."
Okay, so I'll admit that the idea would be better if I had a sexy little gray strip at the front, but who says a woman can't grow gray, as nature intended and still be beautiful? I spend well over a thousand dollars every year and many hours in a chair every other month or so, being carefully colored and highlighted.
It just seems like maybe there's more to life than that.
At this point it's pretty certain I will keep up my coloring/highlighting ways. But one of these days, don't be surprised if you find me proudly sporting my graying coiff.