I owe a lot to Snow Days past. I got started blogging (twice) on snow days (in 2003 and 2004, the latter being the start that really took). I found real blogging friends on a snow day (2005). I learned HTML coding on a snow day (also 2005, but now they’ve made it so easy you don’t really need to know how anymore for most blogging platforms).
This year’s snow days will be accompanied by checking friends’ status updates on Facebook, which also means seeing their pictures. Which I generally enjoy. But because of the 30th high school reunion I did not attend last September, I’m getting friend suggestions for people I have not seen in, well, 30 years, and I’m getting an age-based reality check.
We don’t look the way we used to look.
(Please don’t tell any of them I said that.)
All the gals in pictures I’ve seen from the reunion have great-looking hair, and I am ashamed to admit that even at 47, I’ve yet to be a consistent hair arranger. I’ve made all sorts of bad choices where color and length are concerned over the years. My straight hair turned curly about ten years ago, and I haven’t ever learned how to really maximize the curliness or blow dry it into the shapes achieved by the brilliant woman who cuts it now.
Seeing the pictures also makes me feel very grey, although officially my hair at the moment is a “warm chocolate brown.”
(Please tell me most of my classmates are coloring their hair.)
I’m tired of coloring my hair. If you’ve been a reader for a while, you know I let the grey come in, lived with it for a while, and then couldn’t stand the thought of going on a cruise with my RevGal friends with that dull hair. Voila! Brown again.
But I have to say I really hate spending the money on it. So I’ve been thinking of reversing course.
(Please don’t mention to Pure Luck that we are talking about this. He doesn’t care whether my hair is brown or grey and would probably be okay with purple, too, he just doesn’t want to talk about it anymore.)
I need you to know, in case you don’t, my hair is VERY grey, especially in front.
(That’s a picture from last February. It was Mardi Gras, in case you think we wear beads all the time.)
I remember feeling more authoritative with grey hair, and for a woman preacher who is 5 feet tall, that is not to be dismissed lightly. I also think a lighter color might in fact be kinder to a softly aging face, but I don’t mean I think I ought to go blonde.
Some pictures I see of my grey hair make me want to scream and run out of the room, but this one, I like, so I’m studying it on this Snow Day.
And if no one is grey at the 40th Reunion? Well, we’ll know that’s just false.
Feel free to share an opinion, understanding, as Pure Luck does, that I’ll listen very nicely, then go out and do precisely what I want.