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October 1, 2007

Thank You For Your Visit! (And For Being a Friend.)

Oh, hello there! It’s so nice to see you. Gosh, I really missed you. Can I get you a spritzer? Maybe a nice cup of cocoa? No? All right, then. How about a sandwich? You’re looking a bit thin.

What’s that? My outfit? Oh, thank you! I got these chartreuse pants at an Old Lady Store and you know me, my jewelry always comes from Chico’s. I’m sorry? Oh, no! I’m not calling myself an old lady, silly! That’s the name: Old Lady Store. You know, they sell the best elastic pants. And the colors! A gal can really never get enough Pepto Pink and chartreuse in her closet!

My hair? Oh, my. You’re full of the compliments today! I should have you over more often. I get it done every Thursday. Yes, it sure is a fine aggregation of silver, if I don’t say so myself. I feel hair looks best on a woman when it’s tightly curled and sprayed to steel hardness in a cap-like style. Heh, some call it a “hair helmet.” I’m not even sure what that means.

Let’s go out to the lanai! Dorothy, Sophia and Blanche are waiting for us.

What do I do with my spare time? Well, I guess I gravitate toward the simpler things. Cookies, Rummikub, other people’s grandchildren. Sometimes I read Fern Michaels’ novels.

My hair? No, I stopped coloring it. Well, I went to my hairstylist and, granted, it was a little late and I had some outgrowth (I was working crazy hours at the Craft Cabin!), but she came up behind me and saw me peering at a hair that I had just ripped out of my scalp. I asked her warily if it was a grey hair and she confirmed what I already knew. I had just been telling myself that, as a new brunette, maybe it was just faded, or maybe the light was catching it just so that my unusually healthy hair was just that shiny. Alas, that was not to be. “I can’t lie to you,” she said to me, “you’ve got quite a few back here.”

Well. I appreciated her candor.

She went on to say, “Yeah, when I turned 30 I noticed a few.” She paused and looked at my roots. “But yeah,” she went on, “you’ve got quite a bit going on here.”

I told her that it must have been recent, for I had never noticed grey even when I was blonde, and that was fairly recently. “No,” she disagreed, “all of this looks like it’s been going on for awhile. You’ve got quite a bit –”

I caught the message the first time around. She needn’t say it again. She made her point, thank you very much, and she made it several more times than necessary. She may or may not have wanted a tip at the end, I don’t know.

Of course, then she pointed out that that is the reason we get our hair colored and highlighted and so forth - to keep away the grey!

Hmph. I would have anyway. I didn’t need this new information to lock me into getting my hair done, for the love of one Mr. JHC.

So anyway! I just decided to go with it. What, hon? Oh, no, this didn’t happen years ago. I’m not an elderly retiree at all! I’m still 30. This just happened. I just decided to accept the grey and get on with it. It didn’t take long for my hair to become completely silver, and I don’t know how I happened to completely change my sense of style to sensible shoes and polyester pants, but before I knew it I had my Old Lady Store credit card and started playing Rummikub and canasta! I’m actually quite a formidable ‘gamer,’ if that’s what our youth call it.

Oh, my lipstick? Why, I guess I don’t remember what it is. I believe Avon calls it “Old Lady Orange,” but I’d have to check. Ernestine, my Avon lady, recommended it; isn’t it grand? She also got me hooked on Aqua Net. How on Earth did I live without it!

Ah, to think that just one year ago I was a normal gal of my age bracket with normal worries and signs of aging. And now I look like an elderly, thick-around-the-middle retiree! The world is a crazy place.

Oh, look! It’s 4:30! The Ham Shack has a fabulous Early Bird Special. We just go nuts over it! Please join us. Their food is soft, so it’s good on your dentures. What? Oh, yes. Well, once my hair had “quite a bit” of grey in it I shortly thereafter noticed that I needed dentures. And salve for my spider veins, but ladies don’t discuss those things!

I’m sorry you don’t want to join us and that we have to cut your visit short. We usually return around 6:30 - in time for Wheel and Jeopardy!, and then it’s so late I can’t keep my eyes open! I’m in bed by 7:30 sharp. I just can’t stay up much later than that - staying up until all hours of the night is so bad for you.

Come visit again, won’t you? Perhaps I can take you as a special guest to my gym, where we’ll dance to the oldies and use 2 lb. weights for our strength workouts.

It was good seeing you (through my bifocals)! Tell your mother hello for me, won’t you?

Filed under: Daily, Insecurities, Life

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17 Responses to “Thank You For Your Visit! (And For Being a Friend.)”

  1. Stacy,

    I started going grey in high school. Now at 26, if I don’t keep up on it, it is the hair of a 40 yr old woman, the kind that smokes and spends a lot of time in casinos or bingo parlors, wasting her dead husbands VA benefit checks, with 16 yr old grand kids. So yeah, I dye my hair.

    The more I worry, the more grey pops up. I can track times of significant stress by looking at the points in my hair where a large number of strands switch from normal to grey, all at once. And I don’t have blonde hair, nor do I dye it blonde, nope, its about as dark as it can get without being jet black.

    My hair, it’s thick and wiry(sp?) unusual for my heritage. So the grey, it’s even more uncooperative than the rest. It doesn’t hold dye.

    You don’t suffer alone. Someday the rest of us grannies will teach you canasta, and we’ll have a grand time sipping mimosas.


    I know it’s normal and I’m just more surprised than anything (I still feel like the “adults” are still our parents’ generations), it’s just that there were so many and I know they weren’t there before. You make a good point, though, in that they do seem to correlate with stress. This has, by far, been my toughest year. In a good way, but still, tough. I’m just…surprised. It’s thick and wiry, like a pube, only straight, longer and grey.

    Anyway, I now declare: Grey is the New Black (and Brunette and Blonde). And I will be better about coloring it. If I can’t see it, it’s not there.

  2. […] [email protected] (Leigh Connelly) wrote an interesting post today onHere’s a quick excerptYes, it sure is a fine aggregation of silver, if I don’t say so myself. I feel hair looks best on a woman when it’s tightly curled and sprayed to steel hardness in a cap-like style. Heh, some call it a “hair helmet. … […]

    Um, hello. Who is Leigh Connelly and what gave you the impression that she wrote this?

  3. Wait until your 37!

    Thick in the middle and totally grey? Yep. I know it well. It’s all down hill. Make sure you enjoy the ride. ;)

    I already am, my love. I already am. Wheeeeeeeeeeeee!

    Can you come over and enjoy it with me? We’ll enjoy it with vodka and pills. ;)

  4. You could do what I did for years… wear heels so you’re taller than everyone else and they won’t be able to see them.

    I finally had my hair colored last week, at the age of 41. When I was in Chicago the weekend before, I was straightening my hair and discovered an entire patch of gray lurking just beneath the top layer. It was fascinating.

    So, we went red. Not dramatically red. In fact, only one person has even noticed so far. But I like it. Next time, I might go for something a little less subtle.

    Oooh, I like a little red undertones. And going less subtle is wonderful and I would recommend it to anyone. Mine looked like I walked under scaffolding and construction dust wafted down but only stuck to the roots of my hair. The hell? It IS fascinating!

  5. I am like Katie. I found my first gray hair at age 13. Do you know how depressing that is? When I was little, I thought that one of my uncles was really old. Looking back, I now realize that he was in his late 20s. Why did I think he was old? Because his hair was mostly gray. Unfortunately it is a family curse.

    By the time that I reached college, I knew that Miss Clairol would be a close friend for many years. I am not ready to give up that luxury yet. Maybe in another 10 years. When I’m in my 50s. Because when I see my white roots, I want to cry. Because I’m only 41. And isn’t 40 the new 30?

    40 IS the new 30. And grey is the new cool. But THANK THE MAKER for hair dye. Hooo! I know a lot of people who had grey hair several years ago and I thought nothing of it, which is what I have to tell myself. No one cares. But still. I don’t see myself as an adult, so it’s weird.

  6. I would comment more, but it’s 9:30 p.m. and wayyy past my bedtime. I have to get up early for my mall walking session with the girls from the senior center, and then we’re all going to have coffee at Village Inn. Then we’re getting together for a church council meeting to vote on what flavor of jello salad to feature in the new cookbook.

    Damn. Look at that. I have gray roots too!

  7. I let mine grow out last year. I’d been coloring it for 10 years and was never really happy with the shade I managed to achieve, which always faded to a reddish brown. All my friends like it better the natural color, which is basically dark salt-and-pepper with a streak of real white in it. Go for it, it’s so much easier than having to keep up with it! Of course I’m 54 now so it fits my age. Along with the Varilux lenses in my glasses.

  8. What happened to Rose?!?! Why wasn’t she on the lanai too? Oh, that’s right, she’s too busy pushing home delivery pet meds.

    (I’ve been going stark white since 15. I’m 27 now and my white hair won’t take hair color. Now that’s attractive.)

  9. Girl, I just found my first gray hair this past weekend. At least I think it was gray. I have a lot of natural blonde hairs that pop up in my hair and it’s hard to tell the difference. I think I’ll keep telling myself they’re all blonde.

  10. At least it isn’t in your pubes.


  11. Oh just stop it! Jeez, you just turned 30! I have grey hairs at my temples (it was a LONG road to 30 for me) and I think it makes me look “distinguished”, or it keeps me from having to dig out my driver’s license every time I try to buy beer (it still doesn’t work all the time, so I try to turn my head so they get a good look at my temples). I like to leave them out, but I did find grey hairs in one of my eyebrows… that was an entirely different story. They were curly, wiry and UNRULY! All I could think was, “boil, boil, toil and trouble” and felt the certain urge for a cauldron…Those came out, despite the weird gap it left in my eyebrow, that’s what powder and pencil are for! They have grown back yet, but I remain vigilant!

  12. I meant to say that the grey eyebrow hair hasn’t grown back! Sorry, just wanted to clarify…. I’m obviously not vigilant with my writing before I click on “Submit”…

  13. God, I’ve been washing that gray right outta my hair since I was 25-ish. The damn things grow straight up too, freight-wig style. Sexy.

    I should just start wearing appliquéd kitty-cat sweatshirts and see if I can’t bring those nice stirrup pants back in style.

  14. I found my first (so far ONLY) grey hair when I was 35. Superstitious that if I pull it out more will grow in its place, I just left it there. I haven’t seen another one yet - and YES I have looked.

    I’ll be 39 in three days. *SIGH* I just KNOW as soon as 40 hits I’ll wake up one day and there will be patches of grey hair. All of them laughing and taunting me about being an adult now. BASTARDS.

  15. Can I tell you how much I enjoy a good Golden Girl reference?

    Also I have my fair share of grey sneaking in. I am hoping my hair does a George Clooney kind of transformation. Though I’d be very satisfied with Jon Stewart.

  16. God, “Ham Shack” made me spit out my vino. That is effing hilarious. I, for one, pretend not to see the gray roots. What gray roots? I’m 27 for God’s sake. I have a good 5 years of denial prepared. Be well, Stace.

  17. Grey? What grey? I am 35 years old & don’t have so much as one grey hair on my head. (And I have a standing monthly appointment to keep it that way, thankyouverymuch.)

    However, I did spy a blond hair in my husband’s otherwise dark brown goatee yesterday. It was EXTREMELY blond. One might even say white. Although not in front of The Husband, who has a tendency to get a bit cranky about such things. I caught him this morning in front of the mirror with my Tweezermans, staring at his chin. Heee. At least it’s not just us.

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Into Thin Air, Jon Krakauer
A Long Way Gone: Memoirs of a Boy Soldier, Ishmael Beah
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