I gave in

I was sitting at the kitchen counter with my brother the other day, and he looks at me, touches his hair, and says, "Hey can you see my gray hairs?"

Me: "Did you just say that because you can see mine?"

Brother: "Yea, a little."

So I finally gave in. I marched down to CVS and bought a box of Clairol hair color - the low ammonia kind, though, that washes out in a month... I am still new at this, kind of... at least as a grown-up - and dyed my hair a deep brown. Really, it looks exactly the same, but without those stubborn grays peeking out.

While my step-mother was applying the docile brown color and I was feeling generally just old, she reminded me of the day I stripped my hair to near-white with bleach and then dyed it purple (which really turned out to be this pink-violet on top and deep burgundy underneath). Or that time I went bright red and then let it grow out with my black roots. Ah those were the days. More than a decade later (save for another bleach-blond-to-red disaster in college), I am dying again.

So I have given in, and there is really no turning back. Sad.