Yesterday was my maintenance day! No not on my computer, or my blog. . . .er excuse me blogs. And not my car either, nor even my house.
Oh no, the maintenance was on myself.
Do you know how it is when you’ve been sick for a while--like with the flu, and you haven’t looked in the mirror at yourself for like. . . .I don’t know a week? Then when you do it’s--
“Oh my God! Is that me?”
My roots have grown out and where did the hair come from? My God! I don’t remember being that hairy! And I’m not talking just about my legs! Hell, I’m not even talking about the pits, but let’s be honest a gorilla would be envious. But what happened to my eye brows? I don’t remember having a uni-brow!
I use to just shave the bottom of my shins and then my knees just for good measure, but now e--v-e-r-y-t-h-i-n-g needs to be shaved and or plucked! And waxing is now an option! All that ooey gooey mess, but one good yank and a new experience in pain! And the hair is mostly gone!
I didn’t use to have a mustache!
That’s not fair I’m a woman I’m not suppose to have a mustache! And the really sad thing is that I have more hair on my upper lip than my husband. But please don’t tell him that! No he doesn’t have a mustache, but if I didn’t wax my upper lip. . . .well maybe I’d better leave that unsaid.
So. . . . I shaved, and plucked, and scrubbed until my skin was sore, and scrubbed my hard cracked tough heals until they were. . .well mostly smooth. And I’ll wax later--that stuff hurts.
Then came the hair dye.
Shhh! Don’t tell anyone this and this is just between you and me, and this is my deep dark secret--I’m not really a red head.
I use to be a dark brunet, but I started getting white hair and I got tired of people saying, “God Jan, dye your hair or something your getting real gray!”
“Oh gee thanks, and I love you too m-o-m.”
No it wasn’t my mom--it was my brother in-law John, Danny and Adam and little sister Becky too, and most of the people I worked with and then my husband too.
Okay, it was most of the people I know!
Okay, I get the message, so I’ll dye it.
So I went um, red.
I do too have red heads in my family. . .er back in Tennessee, and I even had a red headed great grandmother who died long before I was born. So one toss of the genetic dice and I could have been a red head.
Really I could have. . . . .
So that is just what I told myself when I had my hair dyed red. I had it professionally dyed the first time, later I learned to do it myself; hair dressers are can be really nice about couching you on how to dye your own hair. So I got lucky with the hair stylist! And do you believe me now?
Anyway when I still had my natural dark brown hair my skin looked shallow and too pale, and something happened when I had it dyed red! My skin popped! No not in zits! Though that happens too. But my skin had color and you could really see my green eyes, that some how sorta of disappeared with all that dark hair around them. It looked well natrual, and the fun part is pretending that it is natural. Which only works with people who haven't know you all your life. So that pretty much everyone that wasn't born here in my home town of Madera in which I still live. So basically strangers.
And for the first time in a long time I felt beautiful.
Until I looked in the mirror the other day.