My gray hairs and me were at peace with each other.
Until a few weeks ago when I discovered those gray streaks had moved in a whole lot of their friends.
I wear my hair short, and I am in desperate need of a haircut. My stylist left the salon where he was working to open up his own place, which doesn't open until mid-January. My hair is a mass of overgrown layers and split ends, so a few weeks ago I decided to get it off my face and into a ponytail, using the cute hair ponies I won from a contest Melissa was holding on her blog a few months ago.
Once my hair was in a ponytail, I decided to take a photo of the back of my head to show Melissa that I was actually using her creation (when I won the contest, I intended to save the hair ponies for Isabella since my hair is usually never long enough to pull back).
I just about fainted once I saw the massive number of gray hairs poking out of the back of my skull. The picture doesn't tell the full story. Trust me when I tell you there are many, many gray hairs back there.
Unless you count Manic Panic and various and sundry knock-off hair dye products, I've never colored my hair.
January 2008 may mark my world debut as a platinum blond.