I've just spared you a particularly gruesome pun in this title
After my attempt to say something meaningful in the previous post, I'm reverting to narcissism to completely wig out (hah! you knew I couldn't really resist) over my latest superficial crisis.
In an attempt to achieve the body temperature necessary for survival, I just had my second hot shower of the day. And when washing my hair, I found THIS:
I'm certainly not blonde, and if anyone can provide an alternative explanation that doesn't involve someone else's hair entangling itself with mine (ugh), I'd appreciate it. Because that sure looks like a grey hair. And I haven't even suffered through childbirth yet! (I blame the horror I experienced at the price of Diet Coke in Britain. Since it decides whether or not I get through a day, why isn't it subsidized?)
This grey hair (ye gods!) is the harbinger of my high-maintenance years, I fear. I am officially the laziest person on earth in terms of upkeep. I'm all for good hygiene (two showers today, remember? AND I floss!), but I refuse to own a hair-dryer. I only get my hair cut once a year, if that. (I let it grow really long, have it chopped short enough for hair shock, and cry for a week. Every time.) Other than experiments with red henna and purple dye years ago, I can't be bothered to colour my hair. I relish waking up fifteen minutes before I leave the house in the morning, and have been dreading the day I need to start putting some effort into hiding the grey, the wrinkles, the pull of gravity. Just a few more years ... that's all I was hoping for ...
Then again, who am I kidding. I already wear jogging pants around the house far too often. Somebody needs to give me a job, before I start watching daytime television! Especially now that the conclusion of the Olympics has left a hole in my life that no amount of home decorating shows can fill.
(And that funny joke about old age you've been planning in celebration of my 30th birthday? Unless there is an ocean between us, I'd rethink it.)
posted by Laura @ 2:21 PM
5 Comments:
Hey Laura! Well, true to my word, I finally read your blog (from the start I might add) much to the detriment of this mornings work (eh, I was in early so it balances out right?). Thanks for linking to mine and Jessi's blog. Now that you're online I have to convince Jessi and Gaby to get up and running too! (note: I have started about 5 blogs in the past only to have them all fail due to lack of interesting things to say on my part, but now that I have started saying "I should write a letter to ..." everytime I get pissed off, hopefully I can redirect that energy into a blog!) ...
Anyways, without intending to incriminate my brother in the whole hair fiasco, I should point out that several of his old highschool "friends" are blond! :)
I don't know if that theory is better or worse than getting old. But if getting old is worse, here's some food for thought. I had to fight every urge to tell the DJ to turn the volume down on the music at my OWN wedding. How's that for getting old!
~Rob
I just wanted to say that it's kind of creepy that your original post was at 2:28 pm today and my comment was at 11:47 am today... Hrmm.. Maybe I have ESP and just KNEW what you were going to post about!
~Rob
That crazy time difference! Heh. My most recent "Ack, I'm old!" moment was when I watched a "what's new in music" feature on TV and started to write down what I thought were bands yet to make it across the ocean (to pass along to my music-fan friends in Canada) only to realize that I wrote down song names instead of bands ... I'm so out of the loop I couldn't even tell which was which. Sigh. Creak. Groan.
He he, good thing for the Atlantic! Marriage must be stressful for Pete - he's got loads (and he's younger than both of us). On the maintenance issue, I have decided to electrolyse my eyebrows (assuming I get around to it). Here's being maintenance-free :)!
Hi Laura - I am delighted to keep up with your news. Am planning to send your blog address on to Tory at Queens so she can get a taste of what life in England might be like - hope to push her towards a cheaper Canadian MA! I suspect the cost of diet Coke might be enough to tip her over the edge. What does a grande latte go for?
As to age, you get used to it. At nearly twice your age I don't notice the grey. But when men stand up to give me a seat on the bus I still tell myself it's because they think I'd pregnant, not old! Right?
V.V.V.
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