I'm not just a plain Hag now... I'm becoming an Old Grey Hag!!

YIKES! This fact is very frightening to me for some reason. Maybe in part because I act like a prepubescent 12 year old school girl so much of the time so it's unsettling that my hair would be the only part of me to act my age. I trot around town in jeans and a hat of random styles and think nothing at all about running into the grocery store in my moo-cow pj's and my "I have gas" t-shirt as if thats at all acceptable behavior for someone who is my age unless they are the town lush. I have also learned that if I go see a movie with lots of action I am overcome by a very serious case of Tourette's syndrome complete with violent twitches and loud outbursts both of which I have no control over. Now the discussion at the salon yesterday was a somber one when we had to speak of the direction to take to mask this "Oldism" from basically just myself. We talked about highlights as a I am not very good at maintenance and everyday upkeep and thought this to be the most reasonable solution for a woman like myself. I can barely brush my hair and have no clue how to put on any kind of makeup. I'm lucky I can apply chapstick because that could be painful but lipstick is a whole other ball of wax.

I briefly discussed the notion this morning with a friend that if I were going to dye my hair, isn't it said that blondes have more fun? We both decided it was probably not legal for me to go around having any more fun then I already do therefore I'd better stay Legally Brunette to avoid prison. Leave the fun blonde stuff to Reese Witherspoon who obviously has more will power and self control then I do. I can dress up and look a bit like a lady but would rather not and only subject myself to this brutal form of torture on Sunday mornings between the hours of 9:30 and about 1:00 if I can help it at all.

I just really am not that comfortable with idea that a woman has to be frilly. I don't do that sort of thing. I wear boy cut panties, never a thong because I hate wedgies and why would I purposely give myself one. I am comfy in sneakers and jeans and would rather sit and talk shop with the boys then wonder which of the catty women I was laughing with in this moment will be talking smack behind my back in the next. I find that women are far more judgmental toward me then men and limit myself on the amount of two-faced people I willingly allow in my circle.

Childbirth is yet another womanly function that gives me the creeps. At lunch with my cousin today we were discussing how convenient it would be if when you went to give birth to your first child they would ask if you planned on more. If the answer were yes you could be fit with a drawstring. That way we keep ourselves as we were meant to be and eliminate the annoying work aspect by simply loosening the string and letting that child enter the world swinging a cane like Stewie Griffin did it. You would think that with all the modern medicine and plastic surgery out there someone would have marketed this idea years ago. Wait a minute... I am going to call the patent office in the morning! I could be rich with such a brainstorm as this. I can see it now... women everywhere will chant my name and men will shower me with gifts because their wives didn't swear at them and call them names while their newborn sauntered into the world. That probably explains some of the disrespect children show parents when the first thing they hear is mommy verbally abusing daddy. Think about it people.

Girls really haven't got it easy. We get cramps when our "friend" comes to visit. With friends like that who needs enemies? Also, wings are only a good thing when they stay stuck the underside of our undergarments. OUCH! It is painfully obvious to me that females got the crappy end of the stick and have to endure much more then men what with the hot wax, plucking and shaving. I am getting over the initial trauma and shock that I experienced when I took a shower at my new apartment for the first time. I realized that boys have hair that I don't allow to grow on my body and that that hair sheds all over the shower walls and sink when they bathe. I have had only female roommates for the most part for the past 12 or more years and forgot the important life lesson taught to every girl in elementary school that boys do indeed have cooties. I am thinking how very lucky I am to be single, have a hairdresser who is a friend and very talented with the wax and to own a razor and know how to use it. So very, very lucky!