Older and Wiser?

Several years ago, I promised myself I would not fight the aging process. 

Don't get me wrong.  I'm going to try to look and be my best at every age.  But, I'm not planning to try to look 21 when I obviously am not.  My intention is to age gracefully, to dress and act appropriately for my age and stage of life. 

So far, so good.  Turning 30 didn't phase me.  It was nice to not be in my 20s anymore. I was a little older and a little wiser.  I had some life experience and I thought I knew what was important.

By the time my 40s rolled around, I was good with getting older.  If I thought I had it together at 30, then 40 was even better.  After all, 40 is the new 20, according to some magazines.  I don't subscribe to them, but I do read headlines in the grocery store check out line.  At 40(something), I really am wiser.  I know what's important in my life.  And, in my opinion, being in my 40s is awesome.

I have my act together.  I love my age.  I love getting older and wiser.

At least, I did.

Until Sunday. 

Sunday, September 9, 2012, THE DAY things came crashing down around me. I was getting ready for church, my coffee at hand, make up spread out and the curling iron heating.  I pinned my hair back so I could begin the beautification process. 

That's when I saw it.  A white hair.  I couldn't believe it.  I leaned closer.  "It's just blonde," I told myself as   I carefully separated it from the strawberry blonde hair surrounding it. 

Wrong. It was white. 

WHAT???!!!!

About a half inch away..... gasp..... is another one!!! 

At that point, I stopped looking.  Instead, I ran into the living room, still holding the offending white hair, and demanded my hubby "look at what I just found."  He diplomatically said "All I see is red."  Nice guy, isn't he?

After moaning and groaning and acting as if the world was going to end, I returned to the bathroom to carefully avoid looking closely at my hair as I finished preparing for church.   

Then, this morning, I decided to curl my hair in an attempt to tame the frizzies.  Stupid humidity.  After 200 I stopped counting.  No, I didn't REALLY count them, but as I curled my hair, I saw more and more strands of white. 

White, not gray.  At least, someday, far, far, FAIR in the future I will be a white haired old lady.  Until then, I am distressed about the thought of losing my red, no, make that strawberry blonde hair.  I just recently came to terms with my natural color.  And, now this??  *Insert much moaning and groaning here.*

Lightbulb moment!!

I am living the dream. My hair is going platinum blonde.  Whew.  No worries.  Blondes have more fun, right??  Right?????  

Now, to find a GOOD hairdresser in town. I really don't want to have to make the trip to Corpus Christi to have my hair done by the one lady who always made my hair look FABULOUS.   I am not joking....  I begged hubby to let me drive down on Monday to find her. 

This is how me today, platinum, strawberry blonde, freckles, contacts and all.....

Hard to see those very platinum blonde follicles, but trust me, they are there.  Trying to make me look wiser than my years.  I think it's a conspiracy.  My laugh lines were lonely and invited them over.... 

Coffee:  Yes, but not nearly enough.  Obviously. 

Writing: Only this blog post today.  Don't you wish I had worked on my book instead??