Colour me bad

I've been keeping a keen eye over the past year or so for any changes. You know, those changes that come with age. For example, grey hair. Each inspection proved to be a good one - not a single silver hair was found.

Blond reigns true!!

Until two days ago, that is. There I was getting ready for bed, brushing teeth, looking at my baby crows feet. And something caught my eye. A glimmer, if you will, a sparkle that emanated from my half up - half down hairdo.

I put my interest in the tiny wrinkles aside, and slowly moved my hand up to capture this...thing...I saw shimmering in my hair.

I delicately grabbed a hold of it. Hmmm....just what was I seeing?

Now, if you knew me, you would know I am a long time dyer of my hair. Since the tender age of 14, when my beach blond hair was introduced to the ways of the woman and quickly became a shade known as dirty blond. I put a stop to that with my friend Miss Clairol! In the past few years, however, I have been making efforts to have a more healthy head of hair, meaning that I only dye what is on top. Underneath was au natural until about September when I was overcome by hair dye excitement.

Right, my point. So in these past few years, I have been admiring the real colour of my hair. Depending on the light, it can be a warm golden blond with some red thrown in there, or it can appear a cool silvery blond.

This cool silvery blond had made the search for greys a bit tedious, as I have to examine extra careful and consider the lighting. My little moments in the past when my heart has pitter pattered over the suspected spotting of a grey were quickly vanquished when I realised I had jumped to conclusions.

I had hoped this was the case two days ago.

So there I was, straining and peering, cocking my head to the right to try to get a good look. I found my makeup bag and rummaged for a hand mirror to try to look at it from another angle. It showed me the same thing, a strand once full of life and colour, now announcing the fact that age is catching me.

There was only one way to be sure. I ran to my bedroom, still holding onto the strand, and found my little scissors. I was going to cut it out! Hold it right in front of my eyes and confirm once and for all.

A single snip. I held it out before me. I squinted. I sighed. I held it up high. I held it down low. I pulled it through my fingertips pressed together.

It sure looked grey to me.

Curses. I looked back at the mirror. And there, out of the corner of my eye, was a glimmer. A second glimmer. Heavens have mercy, there were two!! What is a girl to do!?!

I pulled the hair elastic out of my hair and shook my head. As my hair fell and covered the tale tell signs, I took a quick once over of the top. Nothing. Relief.

I let it be. It will become me. Perhaps these two strands are just a quick hello from 2009, and their friends will not come around for many more years.

You keep your fingers crossed for me, and I shall for you.