Happy New Year! I’m
not much for resolutions. I’m of the
highly enlightened opinion (har har) that goal setting should be all year
round. Get off the pot and all
that. Plus, I kind of think there’s
something inherently defeatist in New Year resolutions. People get all gung ho and worked up and then
start their workout routines (or whatever) way too hard and then get
hurt/discouraged/depressed and give up. I’ve
seen it and it ain’t pretty. I am a very
strong believer in will and what you can accomplish if you set your mind to
it. But I’m also pragmatic. Sometimes life gets in the way of goals. Sometimes it’s just more effective in the
long run to start with small steps and work up. (Have I ever mentioned that my personality profile is one with a
tendency towards breaking down processes and analyzing if they’re effective or
not? Anywho.) New Year resolutions are
supposed to be life-changing, but they never seem to leave room for life or
small steps.    

But the rest of the year always has plenty of time for a
learning curve.

Speaking of which, another month and not pregnant. So I ran out immediately and colored my
hair. Last month I decided that I should
probably color my hair something that would “fade nicely,” you know, a nice
“normal” shade in case I got pregnant and had to stop coloring altogether. My color previous to that was fading into
some interesting pinkish shades. Not
that that bothered me, but I did figure I should go for a reset base to cover
up the half-grown-out highlights I put in when I did some fire engine red
streaks during the summer. And see,
every once in a while I get a guilt-induced urge to look more like a “mom”.  (Or maybe it’s a panic-attack that I look like
one of those women whose personal style is way
younger than they can pull off. You guys
will tell me if I start looking like that, right?!)

Anyway, urged on by the thought of potential pregnancy and
chemicals-versus-fetuses and blah blah blah, last month I dyed my hair a nice
normal auburn. And BOY was I bored! Not even bored, I was downright ill at ease. It was fading better (i.e. what most people
would consider a natural shade) but to me it looked very brassy and
uninteresting and not unflattering but certainly not flattering and I started to feel downright mousy

So back to something more fun. (This is Manic Panic Vampire Red. This pic
doesn’t quite capture the fuchsia highlights.) 


This feels like me. When
I look in the mirror I feel like I’m seeing the person inside.  I think it’s the same way people feel about
their tattoos. Not that I’m trying to
stand out or look “cool”… I just feel like me. It’s funny to me that I am 36 and feel the most comfortable, the most in
my skin, in punky hair. I wish it hadn’t
taken me so long to get here. I was
always alternative but I admit, I was chicken-shit about the hair for a long
time. I actually didn’t start coloring
my hair until I was in my mid- to late-twenties and it took a while to work up
to the darkest of the reds. I have extended
family members and associates who look at my hair askance, some have even made
comments, “Your hair is so pretty naturally, why do you want it that color?” (Which always makes me laugh because they
obviously have forgotten what my original color is and are just referring to a
different color dye.) 

The older I get the more empowered and comfortable I feel in
my skin by doing things that are “young”. And the older I get the more likely I am to do “young things”. How’s that for a res(v)olution? 

One of my 20-20 hindsight regrets now is that I didn’t start
dyeing my hair in high school.

With my hair bright red and my lipstick on, I can do

 – the