Spring 2005
April 5
It is taking forever to grow out! I'm neither here nor there.
May 2
In a single day, I hear the full range of opinions. As I step outside to pick up my morning newspaper, my vibrant, 84-year-old gray-haired neighbor says, "I love the way the gray is coming in." Coming into the house this afternoon, her sexy, 50-something dyed-blonde daughter blurts out, "Why do you want to go making yourself look older? I'd never do that!"
May 8
I hate this growing-in phase. I should have just bitten the bullet and cut my hair short at the beginning. But I believe my long hair is sexier and more feminine than short. I am also feeling proud of myself. I'm past the "one day at a time" phase, when I couldn't stop thinking about my roots, or girding myself not to. Now it's like watching bulbs peek out from under the winter snow: I begin to sense the new me, light gray around my face and steel gray in back. Most of the time I actually like the two-tone quality, since it reflects precisely my stage in life: neither young nor old, but an intriguing equilibrium.
