Things You Really Never Wanted to Know
I have a dilemma and I thought what better way to work it out than by writing about it.
My hair is going gray. That's not really new, it goes gray all the time and I, of course, have it colored. Doesn't everyone? No, they don't and that's part of the problem for me. They, people my age with gray hair, are comfortable with themselves. I proclaim to be comfortable with myself.
The far more worrisome part of the issue is honesty. Am I being honest, really honest if I color my hair. I mean obviously, I'm not being "who I really am". I try to teach my daughters to be "who they are". I think it was Dr. Seuss who said, "the people that matter don't mind and the people that mind don't matter". I repeat that phrase to them often. I hope that one day it'll be stuck in their head like some brain eating worm and it will finally take over and strike an "a ha" moment for them.
No, darling daughters, it doesn't matter if anyone else likes your dress, it only matters if you like your dress. Does it help that your mother thinks it's way too short and God forbid that you should bend over and that personally I don't like young men gawking at my daughter's breasts? No, it should, but it doesn't. Do you like the dress?
By the way, Beer hound, Emma and I went out to dinner on Friday. We went to one of our favorite restaurants, one where Emma can order vegetarian and we can actually have meat. It's a nice restaurant. This is my best description of what Emma wore - A pretty pink sundress with purple and green polka dots, black combat boots, and a flannel overshirt in yellow and black plaid that looked like she had just taken it off some Montana logger, complete with wrinkles. I can report that she walked in like she owned the place holding her head high, while I slinked behind trying desperately to put as much distance between us as possible and then sitting across from her hoping it would look like a business meeting. Of course it didn't help that Beer hound was wearing black tennis shoes without any socks. You know the movie "Deliverance"?, well that was my family you saw playing the banjo.
I've tried hard to run from that side of my family. Beer hound on the other hand is related to Ernest Hemingway with Doctors at least 4 generations back and family that came over on the Mayflower - No, I'm not joking. So why do Emma and Bonnie want to dress like my side of the family? It's downright disturbing.
What does that have to do with my hair? oh silly reader, you know I have to work this out in my own time.
Here are some truths about me. They may haunt you so read carefully, maybe peering between your fingers.
1. I have not worn makeup in over 10 years, probably longer but that's as far back as I can remember. Don't shake your head in disbelief, it's true. No lip gloss, no mascara, no eyeshadow, no blush, nada, nil, nothing. I'd like to say that I'm protecting my skin but really I'm just too lazy for that shit. I think I look fine, friends love me, my daughters love me, Beer hound loves me, and I'm protecting the environment (I threw that in for good measure).
2. I have not worn pantyhose in over 10 years - 10 years is my go to period because that's how long we've been living in this particular house and since Beer hound was in the Navy, I tend to measure things by the amount of time I spent living in a particular dwelling. Pantyhose, like every other binding, physically hurtful object of dress, was created by a man. That alone makes it something to be avoided. Do you see men wearing that crap? No you do not, unless they are dancers and then only because they don't want the dangling parts to dangle and somehow throw them off balance or maybe it's a point of pride for them, who knows the mind of men. I personally, think pantyhose makes you feel like some sausage squeezed into intestinal skin and the fact that it isn't even your natural color should be a reason for not wearing them. Seriously, your legs are tanned but your arms aren't? Let's not even mention the fabric cling. You know what pantyhose is good for? tying up tomatoes or straining lemon juice. It's actually cheaper than cheese cloth.
3. I do not shave in the winter. I'd like to give up shaving in the summer but alas, I don't live in Europe and I do have a sense of propreity. Not that I really care what you think, but I hate to be the person that walks into a restaurant, causes a shock and awe scenario and then have someone choke to death on a meatball. Too much responsibility. So, yes, I do shave when summer comes and I get to pull out my dresses, skirts and shorts. My armpits? Let's just say I don't wear tank tops and leave it at that. (Just to gall some of you, Emma is so blond, I know her hair on her head doesn't look it, that she never has to shave because you can't see any hair on her body AT ALL and to add insult to injury, she doesn't grow underarm hair. I know she came out of my body, because I saw the whole thing, besides being there, and I proclaim that she is just a freak of nature. It's so unfair.)
4. Okay, here we go, are you squeezing your eyes? I pee in the shower, while I'm taking a shower, of course. Yes, I do. And it doesn't bother me to say that. Deep in my heart, I'm betting everyone has done it once or twice. Come on, first of all, it's sterile so get over yourselves and second it saves time and toilet paper.
5. I watch True Blood (my all time favorite show) with my 16 and 19 year old daughters. We love it and I have no problems sitting next to Bonnie and Emma and gasping over Bill and Sookie's love scenes not to mention varied and other "human like beings" doing the wild thing.
6. After spending an entire day with both girls, I have gone straight to the package store (navy terms for liquor store), left them in the car, gone into the store and walked out with Vodka. The only thing stopping me from drinking it there and then is the threat of incarceration and the safety of other people, not necessarily the people in my car. Although I will admit that sometimes incarceration doesn't always look that bad but then I wouldn't get to watch Professional Bull Riding and what would my life be worth without cowboys, wranglers and chaps?
So...., what to do about my graying hair? I am who I am said Sam I am. Very little shames me, bad behavior yes, rudeness (yes, I can be rude), not treating my elders or anyone else with dignity regardless of their standing in life, cussing in front of children or people who dislike those words (I do try and watch myself, doesn't always work) but generally, I can get up in the morning and look myself in the mirror without flinching. Honesty is always the best policy, although being an atheist I have learned there are some times that honesty is better left at the front door and nodding with a smile is appropriate.
You know what? F*** it, I'm dying my hair, because, in the end, I'm just too anal and I would stand in front of the mirror and have stood in front of the mirror and pulled gray hairs out. They just don't match and god knows, I like things to match. I have too much gray to do that anymore. I'd be bald and while that's not such a horrible thought, I don't think Beer hound would really go for the look. Besides, pulling hairs hurts and takes time which I don't have.