Conversation with my mother:

Me – My friend said I look 15 years older.

Mom – Is she a good friend?

Me – Yeah!

Mom – Then she’s probably telling you the truth.

So, I put my fears aside and brought out the bottle of hair dye I’d been harboring in the linen closet for quite a few months.

No, I’m not afraid of dying my hair. I’ve not known my actual hair color since I was 22! I was afraid of doing it myself. One of the most important men in my life has been Micheal, my hair stylist. He’s been the only one to touch my hair (other than my husband) for the past 20 years. He even did my up-do for our wedding! But because of our damned economy and the past few years decline in our business, it became impossible for me to justify paying him. Not that he’s not worth it… he is! Every single penny!

Micheal's so cool he even cut her hair for me!

But I do my math these days as hay bales. When I did dog rescue full-time I used to do math in spays and neuters. So, my math tells me 15 hay bales for the girls is way more important than my looks. I decided to simply let my hair go au naturale!

The dingy gray taking over my head.

It’s been well over a year and a half since I’ve seen Micheal. Yesterday as I was attempting to saturate every strand of my hair while standing in my puny bathroom – I sure missed him. I missed his strong hands massaging my head. Ladies, let me tell you, if you ever get the chance to have this man wash your hair, do it! It’s pretty darned close to a sexual experience.

I must have read the instructions at least 10 times. Then I remembered, it’s only hair! Get it done, already!

Don't mind my giant hand, I'm not skilled at the "photos in the mirror" thing!

Ta! Daaaaaa!!!!! I did it! With a birthday coming up, I really didn’t want to look 15 years older. I still have a little ego 🙂