Friday, December 10, 2004 with my big, filthy hands
Thanks to awesome genetics, I'm expecting my first gray hairs in a couple of years, and I don't want them to be a surprise. I do everything I can in order to promote personal gray-preparedness: staring at myself in mirrors, furtively checking tinted car windows as I pass by them (bonus: there might be famous people in there somewhere!), and unannounced spot checks.
Just now I was running my fingers through my hair, then inspecting the stray loosies I caught, and I realized I was in public.
I'm not just in public. I'm at work, at the job where I have computer access and I rarely hear people cuss.
I've gotten used to hair. I deal with pounds and pounds of the hair of others every day, and while my role in the hair cycle is generally relegated to hair disposal, sometimes people come into my one job and ask me questions that require me to stare at their scalps. My co-workers routinely do each other's hair when there's a lull in business, and if I get up from my desk, walk over to one of the room's many mirrors, and just start fooling with my hair, nobody says a damn thing about it.
Hair is our weather, the conversational topic that can provoke strong emotions but little real controversy and passes the time pleasantly.
So:
There's really no reason that it should have occurred to me that sitting here and pulling out my hair and looking at it is gross.
Am I right? posted by Frenz | 12/10/2004 03:36:00 PM
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