Tomorrow is a day for re-blonding. I have an appointment for a "partial", which means that I will spend 2 hours in the morning at the hair salon, getting my roots touched up. It always takes forever. Jason, my stylist, is amazing. My hair responds to him like it never does to me. It just likes him better, and is on better behavior when he is wielding the hair dryer and round brush. When I walk out, I will look traffic-stoppingly gorgeous.
By consulting my Outlook calendar, I see that last time i went in for hair was October 1st, just two months ago. The entry on my calendar is so innocuous--it simply reads: Hair, Liquid, 10:30am. That morning was anything but innocuous, though. For starters, I was probably still half drunk when I walked in for my appointment. At the very least, I was exhausted, emotionally devastated, and looked like I'd been run over by a Mack truck. The previous night had been spent having an explosive, atrocious fight with my ex. We'd foolishly decided to meet for a few drinks just a month after our break-up. He wanted it to be "his treat", in honor of my birthday two week before. At first it was quite nice. We were civil, the food & drinks were good. It felt like a good milestone, a sign that we could "do this" whole break up thing.
I left the bar to meet up with my pretty, petite brunette friend. Then, two hours later, Dramafest 2005. I went out to have a smoke and he'd left me a harassing voicemail, which beget a screaming drunken argument, and lots of hysterical crying on my behalf. Suddenly, not so nice.
It seems like all of that happened a lifetime ago, and most certainly longer than two months ago. It seems even longer ago that I was happily engaged to a wonderful man. He used to be so, so good to me. Sometimes I think about it and feel utterly mystified by what has happened to that person. Where did he go? When I'm mad at him like I am lately, it's easy to pretend that he was never really there in the first place. But I know that's not true either.
So much has changed. The actual time, as recorded by my Outlook calendar is not expressive of time. My two inch roots are a bit more expressive. At least they provide evidence of time elapsing, some reminder that, even when it doesn't really feel like it's happening, a person is growing every single day.
So, tomorrow, reblonding. I think this time I'll go even lighter.
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Your metaphor for a person growing is really nice.
Are you reblonded yet? Loved the post!
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