Thursday, July 21, 2011

It's not nice to ask for my ID and then call me ma'am!

(Hmm, look at that. I started this entry on June 21 and never finished. It's only been two months since I updated. Oops. I spent the morning reading a couple of new blogs and decided I should come update my own. Apparently reading blogs is the key to writing them, for me at least. Now let's go on with the chlorophyll.)
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I seemed to be trapped in some weird age where my skin thinks I'm 15 and my hair thinks I'm 60. There is something unfair about having gray hair and acne at the same time. They shouldn't even be allowed to exist on the same head.

I found my first gray hair when I was 20, so the gray hair doesn't really bother me. I think women who find them early just shrug it off. And apparently women who find their first gray at 30 do not. At least based on my Facebook friends list of people complaining about their first gray hair.


Not the best pic but you get the point.
Sometimes I think about coloring my hair to cover the gray. But then I remember that I go months between haircuts and decide I should just leave it alone. I don't really enjoy getting my haircut. I have to sit still and make small talk for 30 minutes or longer. I did like the guy that cut it last time, which was back in April. Maybe I should make an appointment and have it cut again. It's getting so long that I'm pulling it when I sit down. (Not because it's Crystal Gayle length or anything but because it's behind my back and when I move, it gets stuck between me and the chair.) --Let's see. I got mauled by a cougar, my Crystal Gayle shirt is ruined, and I didn't learn dick about driving. Other than that, it was great. -- What was I talking about?Oh, I have decided that if I start coloring it then I'll have to keep doing it and then I'll be poor and annoyed. So gray hair isn't so bad.


And seriously, what's with the acne? My skin wasn't this bad when I went through puberty or when I was in high school. I don't get it. Maybe it's pollution. Or just a mean trick my body is playing on me.


For some reason people have started calling me ma'am. Which is kind of funny to me and I'm not used to hearing it. I am 32 so I guess I am a ma'am but it's still weird. A couple of weeks ago we went to a bar in The Woodlands and the cop at the door asked for my ID. And then said "thank you, ma'am!"  after he checked my birth date. Ouch!