Thursday, February 21, 2013


Last week was a good week. Scratch that. Last week was a GREAT week. My whole perspective was changed and I finally got the answer to the whole purpose of this blog once and for all.

Let's backtrack a bit. I am an introvert. I get exhausted being around people 24/7. My dream job would be to lock myself away in the archives, yet my reality is that I'm a very social person. It's somewhat exhausting but has progressed me to the title of "Functional Introvert." So to go out to concerts, dinner, or movies by myself is on one hand fine with me. On the other hand, it's more fun to experience it with someone. However I was looking forward to going to the concert and later to the ballet.

I started off going to a concert by myself. I go every time this band comes to town and always seem to run into friends and have a good time. This year it was a last minute gig and none of my friends could make it but I was looking forward to it all the same. That whole day I had been in a great mood. I was talking to my sister as I was walking up to the pub and she was cracking me up. So I sat about a 1/4 of a block down from the entrance to finish my conversation with her.

As I did I became aware that the band was unloading but a couple of them stopped and stared. I thought it was something behind me but no, there was no one behind me. I was getting checked out. As I went into the bar I staked out a good area to set my beer on and enjoy the show. The concert was good but nothing could compete with the guy doing his best impersonation of Molly Ringwald's dance in The Breakfast Club, compiled with random jumps and herkie kicks to round it out. Counter that to his partner who was doing some sort of Wiccan conjuring spell dance and you've got a good evening's worth of entertainment.

This all being said, I was in a great mood and had no problem talking to people and they seemed to gravitate toward me. When I left, I was on the sidewalk and one of the band members looked me over long and hard- he did not give a crap about my hair. Had it not been a work night I would have returned the gaze (with some embarrassment) but I needed bedtime. That was a great victory because it really IS all about attitude and energy. If you're in a great mood, people find that a magnet and they want to be around it. I am not a classic beauty, I have 20 pounds I would be happy to donate to anyone willing, and it didn't matter. I was happy and fun and THAT'S what made me attractive that night.

So on to the ballet. Quite a different social engagement. I went with a friend and afterwards we went to a nearby hotel for a drink. There was a gala fundraiser going on and many drunken debutantes pouring out of the ballroom. Really, you'd think with all that money they would learn to hold their liquor. Some girls sat on the floor, draped over their date's lap whilst their friends pulled down their dresses. Other girls were borderline belligerent and assaulting eligible bachelors and trapping them into corners, poor dears.

And even though the lighting was BAD and my hair looked like a creamsicle (trust me, those elderly women all took notice and politely turned away), I think I was still preferable to an amateur drunk. Yay, points for me! All kidding aside, the only ones who notice or care about your skunk stripe are women. When men notice it on me, they either love it or don't really care. Some may notice and not care for it, but I have never received a negative comment from a man nor a negative look. I think it just helps if you show it off. Don't try to hide it or conceal it- it's there and it's intentional (unfortunate yet intentional). Once you stand up for yourself everyone will fall in line.

Monday, February 11, 2013

No More Baristas

I have to make a correction on my earlier post. There HAS been a change in the men I attract. I noticed that as time goes on in the greying schedule, I no longer attract the amount of baristas as my former dyed hair. That means that children (of whom I am twice their age) in an under-employed status no longer want to date me.

This does not make me sad but more that it's an awareness of how much I really own my age. I'm not sure if I posted the real reason I decided to go grey. First, color would only last two freakin' weeks before I had to cover the roots; second, I have gone from 40% grey to 80% in a matter of two years; and third, I had a moment of clarity that I was coloring to hide my age.

One could quickly draw on the fact that if I'm trying to look twenty-something, I would actually like to attract twenty-somethings. Not so much, and I was giving the Universe mixed messages. So now that I am proudly a 38-year-old Silver Sister, I would like to attract age-appropriate playmates. I don't want the guy who goes to a kegger and shares an apartment with ten of his closest mates; in essence no amateur drunks need apply. And that's exactly what I'm NOT attracting- yay!

Now, a friend recommended some cover up for my grey to get me through the hard times. Considering I have about 3" of growth, have I not already gotten through the hard times?? I'm not sure I would want to risk it, what if it stained and I had to start all over, thus ADDING five MORE months??!! Eek, I shudder just thinking about it.

Along that note, I highly recommend the ponytail when going out and wanting to look remotely attractive. As a woman who is 5'2" (remember the scene from Rudy: "you're five foot nothin', a hundred and nothin'...), there will be few people so short that they won't see the top of my head, which looks like this:

I'm sure no guy is going to reflect on what a lovely, healthy pink scalp I have or how my hair resembles a twinkly pixie on top. Maybe some will, but they're probably not going to go for me. Therefore the ponytail just announces the silver and no one is thinking, "Psst, should we tell that girl that her roots are starting to show?" A ponytail stops those comments from occurring. I have a couple of events I'll be going to this week and I'll be sporting said pony. I'll report later on that.

Tuesday, February 5, 2013

Sheltie Time

I have been absent for some time. Mostly this is because I have been VERY under the weather, due to the plague-like flu that swept the Northern Hemisphere. Finally after five weeks I feel I am starting to come beack to life.

I celebrated my FIVE Month Anniversary yesterday. What did I do? I had my work colleague take pics of me in the parking lot to show off my hair. This obsessive behavior is not helping me as I can't tell the true rate of growth in my hair. The Silver Sisters say I am growing very fast but it seems to have slowed to a lull in my opinion.

I went home and was snuggling with my Sheltie, commenting on what a pretty dog she was when I realised- oh my! I have the same hair as my dog! I have this white collar, auburn base, and black accents (the back undercarriage of my hair is black- when have I EVER had black hair??!!). See for yourself:

 There are worse things that can happen then to look like your Sheltie dog but I have to admit I will be happy to start looking like someone found more along the homosapien route.

Okay, so let's get on with how this is affecting my love life. It's not. If you want to know the honest truth, I thought the tri-tone effect would impact every area of my life. It doesn't. Men don't seem to notice and when they do, they look for growth progress. Other than the Silver Sisters, they are my biggest fans.

I have just as many likes (this is on the Match site) on my going grey pics as I have on my monotone hair pics. I know that Anne Kreamer did this experiment with her grey hair on Match. She had transitioned and had two profiles: one with grey hair and one as a photoshopped brunette (just photoshopping the hair). There was no difference, in fact she seemed to have more hits on the silver profile. But I wondered how that would apply to dating life when you're in the middle of transitioning.

I honestly think it's about your confidence. If I want to feel confident going out, I generally pull my hair back into a ponytail. There's still the crazy color  but pulled back there's this initial bright silver. I think it's stunning and I love to show it off. Do men care? Doubt it. It think I just radiate more confidence and that projects out. I've gone out the past few weekends with friends and no one at the bars seems to even notice. Sometimes my hair is down, sometimes it's up. I think they think I'm doing something intentional. Maybe I should just say from now on this is a very new look- the Sheltie look, and stars are paying big money to get this look. Hey, if Kelly Osbourne can rock lilac hair, I can rock the Sheltie.