Clairol is my friend

I'm going to grow old kicking and screaming.  My husband thinks I should just go grey gracefully (say that fast ten times).  Some people look absolutely stunning with silver or grey hair.  I don't believe I'm one of them.  Some twenty-odd years ago I painted a room off-white and got a little paint in my hair.  As I looked at myself in the mirror I couldn't believe how a few white hairs could make me look ten to fifteen years older.  Since that day, I decided that I would not be grey.


I just finished with Clairol 115-A.  As a matter of fact, my hair is still wet as I type this.  Trying to find a shade I like can be complicated.  I like a little gold or red, but not too much.  I really liked the shade I used last year.  I got a lot of compliments, so you think I would have kept the box or even written the number down.  But liking change, I don't think I would have kept using it for long anyway.  


This morning as I was squirting that stinky brown goo all over my hair, my husband walked in and the smell took his breath away.  He was so upset that I was subjecting myself to inhaling ammonia that he went and got a fan and tried to air the room out.  I don't think men understand the lengths to which we will go to try and look younger and prettier.  I think Billy Crystal, in Fernando's Hideaway on SNL, put it best:

It is better to look good than to feel good.  And dahling, you look maaaahvalous!

So for the next eight weeks, until the grey starts peeking through, I'll feel mahvalous!  What do you do to feel marvelous?

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