Gray Hairs

On the way home on Friday night, I stopped in ladies and just happened to look in the mirror, and it was then that I saw it...the Omen that would school me on what is to come. I spied my first gray hair, and before I could think about it, I plucked it out, and then remembered that 5 more would grow back in its place. I found those the next day. Anyway, I saved the plucked hair in a little porcelain box I got in London when I turned 29. I told my mother, who was visiting for the weekend, about the hair. She recently let her hair go after years of coloring it and totally rocks it, and was quick to tell me she had absolutely no sympathy for me, even as I stood there sniffing and sobbing and mourning the inevitable end of my good hair days.

Then I turned 31 yesterday. I'm not depressed about it, but I do feel as if God is dragging me through the years kicking and screaming. I'm not ready to go there yet! I don't think my thirties are the end of it all, but I'm just not ready yet. I didn't do anything to celebrate really, but I did have lunch with a few former co-workers of mine. We were actually celebrating one of them getting a promotion and going to another office, but they did a two-for-one deal and took me out, too, which was very nice of them. I had my Sake Ikura Don and a good-sized glass of sake (on the house) and was a happy camper. Then I went for my training session at the gym with S., the most beautiful trainer ever. I know this is true because usually, my admiration for unattainable men quickly goes away after it is drilled into my head that I cannot have him. But not with S. I still check him out whenever he's not looking and make that little purring noise I make when I find someone particularly delicious. Anyway, upon seeing me, he wished me a happy birthday and gave me a huge hug, actually lifting me off the ground with his muscular, football-playing self. Yum. Never mind that he almost squeezed the life right out of me. What a way to go! After our session, I went home, talked to my dad, and went to bed earlier than I have in years.

Turning 31 has made me think about changing some things. First, and I discussed this with mom (who was all gung-ho about it) and then my dad (who was all skeptical because he just bought his apartment and "claims" to not have the money. I have some and I can always get a loan), I am going to go to graduate school. I've picked Washington as the preferred place to do this, because DC is a great place for pontificating big mouths like me, and because I get to be with my parents and friends as I've been wanting to do for a while now. I had an informal look at my options, and GWU has a Latin American studies program within the International Relations graduate program. I am SO there! This year will be about prepping for and then taking the GRE. This time I will actually try to get a good score, unlike the SAT's, on which I let myself bomb because I knew what college I was going to and they did not insist on stellar scores.

The other change may not seem really important, but spiritually, it is. I decided to cut my hair in a pixie 'do. I got this idea from Lenny Kravitz, who said that cutting off his locks after so long was one of the best things he could have done to cleanse his spirit. So I will do the pixie 'do in lieu of shaving my entire head, which would expose the dents left over from my operation, which happened 21 years ago June 5th. This will expose the scar that runs from the nape of my neck all the way to the middle of the crown of my head, but fuck it. Considering that I had shaved the bottom half of my head when I went to college, and then wore my hair up, and was told "you are SO hard-core!", I don't really care.

This be my thinking.