Carrie's got nothin' on me.

I have great hair.

God, that sounds really egotistical doesn't it? It's true, though. It's thick, grows fast, healthy, shiny, silky when clean...I really like my hair.

I've had my share of unfortuante haircuts/styles, but luckily for me, they were mostly in my youth. When I was younger, Mom had it permed. And it was short. Short, thick hair when permed...forms a triangle. Guess what my brother called me? If you guessed Triangle Head you're super smart. And just as unoriginal as he was. I didn't take care of the perm like I should have so it would start looking fairly ratty until the next one.

Finally, the spring of 7th grade, we cut it all off, leaving me with a haircut that was short and fluffy enough I looked like a Q-tip head. After that, I quit cutting it. At all.

(Seriously...look at that hair. The guard is much prettier. He worked at Edinburgh Castle in Scotland and when asked about how warm his clothing kept him, he said his face and knees were all that was cold except for when a breeze went up his kilt and then his willy was cold. He said all that immediately before this picture was taken. I was unsure how to react...hence the odd expression. Plus he was super cute. I mean just look at him!)

I've never washed my hair every day. On top of it not being good for your hair ANYWAY, it's bad for your skin and my skin especially. I have dry semi-sensitive skin so frequent washing isn't great. I've used a hair dryer and/or flat iron less than a dozen times at home and only dyed it once. I've let it grow out and donated a foot of hair to Lock for Love and similar organizations 5 times (I think...maybe more...I usually donate every 18-24 months, depending on how fast it's growing). And every
time, the person cutting my hair hurts her hand cutting through the wad of ponytail. I brush it only a couple times a week (sad and weird, I know) and I almost always wear it pulled back in a half pony because I have kids who like to pull my hair. I like it short, I like it mid length, and I like it long. I like the color and the thickness (both quantity of hair and the individual hairs...you know what I mean). I like nearly everything about it.

The only thing I don't like about my hair is the gray that's started to pop up. I saw my first gray hair at 17. A few have popped up over the years but since having Elijah...I feel like they're multiplying faster than ever. They're bright white and shiny, so I guess when I finally go gray, I'll look more silvery like my Grandma than gray...so that's nice?

My soul mate has teased me about coloring my hair since Elijah was born whenever I'd complain about it. I finally confessed that my vanity wouldn't let me start coloring my hair until I was actually 30.

Well....I'm 30. She came over today and brought lunch and we dyed my hair. Two bottles of dye almost seemed like it wouldn't be enough. Luckily it was. Although the rinsing afterward put me in mind of a horror movie. Like that scene in Carrie where she gets in the bath after the prom...or the scene at the end of the recent Evil Dead where it is LITERALLY RAINING BLOOD. That or I survived some horrific massacre. I get a little macabre in the shower apparently...especially with red hair dye splashing all over the tub and shower curtains. Ten minutes of rinsing and it was still running pale red (not pink, pale red. There's a difference) so I gave up and put in the conditioner. And once it dried, I was a little afraid to look.

It's red. Not like Ariel red, more like...I don't even know. I can't decide if I like it or not. I'm going to live with it for a little while before I make any decisions about covering it up or anything. Austin seems to like it and that's what matters, right? I just see it out of the corner of my eye. He has to look at it everyday.

So now I'm 30 and I'm dying away the gray. I'm not the first, I'm not the last. I just feel weird. I've had a good relationship with my hair for 30 years and I'm hoping the chemicals I'm now putting in won't ruin that. I'd rather have healthy gray hair instead of sad, colored hair.