December 4, 2004

I will remember this day forever. Heretofore decreed to be "THE DAY OF INFAMY".

And it's not just because Mom's funeral was this day. It was the other equally important event that happened Saturday.

So I'm getting ready for the funeral. I've got my obligatory black clothes and my token red flower in honor of Mom laid out on the bed.
I start combing my hair out after my shower and when I look in the mirror, I see it shining like a beacon shouting its dastardly self out to me.

I have my first gray hair.

I am 34 years old and am quite proud of my current hair color (which is natural, thankyouverymuch.) But it may be time to pick out a new color that bests suits my march into a new era of life. As James mentioned, I gained wisdom. Yeah, right.

And what do you think I did with that gray hair? I plucked it so fast, the cuticle popped out of my hairline. It was about as long as my thumb to the first joint. I'd say it was about "two weeks long."

And I DARE another one to show up.