White Blight

Getting older is weird. It's strange because getting older is this THING you know is going to happen (unless you die), but you can't really process it until it's happening. When you're a kid, getting older is weird because you transition from that state of Kid to an ever-increasing maturity. You have expectations and others have expectations for you. It can be crappy, but for the most part, the benefits seem to outweigh the crap.

Once you're an adult, you kind of stabilize on the aging thing. You're still doing it, but it's not as obvious as it was when you were a kid. At least, it's not for a while. On the surface, that seems great. It's almost like you get some kind of reprieve from the process. I'm not sure it's such a good thing though. The problem is that at some point, the aging kicks back in again, and it catches you when you least expect it.

 The other day, I was sitting in my best friend's car, as I have done, off and on, for over 20 years now. Like always, I was listening to post-punk music and staring at myself in the mirror as I sang (don't ask). I noticed the number of white hairs at my temple were starting to increase. Not so much that I needed to completely dye the mess, but quite a lot. And even though logic and reason would seem to show me the folly of my ways, I decided that the best thing to do was pull the offending whiteness out.

White hairs are tricksy.  Keep in mind, I was looking in a mirror as I did this. Even still, every time I would begin to pull out one of those white hairs, I would come away with a dark one. Every single time. I think I pulled out a good 20 dark before I got to one white. And yes, I kept going, because clearly old age is making me loose my mind.

Why did I even do this? I honestly didn't think I would care if my hair went white. I was looking forward to it being easier to dye it purple or cotton candy pink or bright vivid blue. I thought I would have so much fun with this. And yet, there I was, sacrificing my perfectly innocent hair for the sake of some white ones. As I said, the aging thing is weird. I hope I get used to it soon.

Otherwise, I'm going to end up looking like a plucked chicken.