A TALE OF URBAN SUBURBAN SURVIVAL

Tuesday, April 10, 2012

-thirty evidently looks like the new fifty-

Dear god, it finally happened.

Last night I was doing the usual pre-sleep face priming, and all of a sudden I see a little silvery light reflection. Horrified, I lean closer to the mirror, and there, right smack in the middle of my hairline, was one perfectly silver hair.

OH GOD, NO WAIT---THERE'S TWO!

After some serious examination, I had to admit these weren't my usual blonde roots. These were in fact silvery white hairs. Now, the average person's hair grows about a 1/2 inch a month, so I don't know how they escaped my fastidious hair dresser because these were almost an inch (And yes, I did check to make sure it wasn't just Wolfgang's fluff tangled in mine).

I would defiantly say that I'm too young for this, but let's be honest---approaching thirty feels like the new 40 right now (and evidently looks like the new fifty).

I know I should follow this incredibly classic advice from a 1913 issue of Good Housekeeping---


Youth, nor beauty is so much to be envied as the state of the woman who has freed herself from the fear of age.


---but wow, here's hoping this was a blip on the screen of life instead of a sign of things to come (if this is a sign of things to come, I'll be a veritable silver fox by the time I'm 50).

In fact, to honor these two blips, I've posthumously named the longer white hair "Wolfgang" and the shorter one "new job".

Excuse me while I go call my hairdresser.

-big city big settle-ism-

Five or six years ago, I couldn't imagine us having this conversation:

(Driving on the Jers turnpike, looking across the river at the Big Apple)











"Wow...New York."

"Yeaaaaaah."

"You know, sometimes I wish we lived there. But we would have to do it right."

"You mean be rich."

"Well, yeah. Actually, wealthy and streamlined."

(Shoots a dubious look across the car)

"Or, we could have a cute little Brooklyn brownstone. But then I start thinking about how to handle the dog and the groceries and the baby stroller! I mean, it sounds like hell, right??"

"Yeaaaaaah."

(A few minutes of silent reflection)

"How much longer til we get home?"