I’d Luv To Kiss Ya, But I Just Cut My Hair…

I am walking that fine line between “eccentric older broad” and “crazy old bat”. Thank God/Goddess/Universe it isn’t a tightrope. It’s more like one of those moving walkways at the airport. And you just hope you don’t trip and fall on your ass getting on and off.

When i went to my hairstylist yesterday and told her i was thinking about going for a faux hawk this time, it took her a good 5 seconds to reply. Now, this amazing woman has been with me for nearly 15 years. She has seen me thru drugstore dyes, quality henna, the decision to let my grey grow out (Twice with me backing out, before my commitment was finally cemented), the decision to let my grey hair grow very long and wavy in hopes i’d look like EmmyLou Harris (I didn’t), and then the decision to buzz it mostly off in hopes i’d look like G.I. Jane (You guessed it… I didn’t).  In any case, she has known me long enough to know i was serious about getting my punk on. I couldn’t immediately tell if she was inwardly rolling her eyes, or just trying to imagine how it would look. When i pointed out that, if we didn’t like it, we could just buzz it again, she nodded her head, and i could tell she had a plan of attack. Scissors, razors, clippers…. It all came out as she got creative with my old head.

Then i told her i was going to tint it purple when i got home.

To her credit, she didn’t laugh. I mean, i’ve done stranger things, so i doubt she was surprised.

She gave me some good advice, and i stopped and bought the color on the way home. Since i don’t want it permanent and i’m still trying to reduce my use of harmful chemicals, i went with a colorizing conditioner. Definitely not something that would score clean on the hazard app, but no ammonia or bleach or skull-and-crossbones on the package. The young girl at the checkout stared at me with frank confusion before shrugging and ringing me up.

The little snipe.

I went online and found a post from a woman like myself who tinted her whites with the product. I decided to follow her instructions rather than the box because, well, lets face it… The instructions weren’t made for old grey- or white-haired broads. Very little that is fun is made for old broads.

As i sit here waiting for my hair to dry post-color, i am listening to my son and his friends play video games and rag on each other about their cyber-fighting ability and manhood. It is pretty entertaining. They aren’t experienced enough yet to really let out a righteous string of cusswords, so it mostly comes out as swear words in comically random order. They don’t realize i can hear them, until a particularly silly string of epithets makes me laugh hard enough to catch their attention. Now they don’t know what to say.

I often have that effect on people.

In any case, yes, i do realize that being an older broad with tattoos and a barely purple faux-hawk makes me eligible to become one of those just-for-fun birthday cards that you send to someone who is depressed about their age. I’m not sure if that’s a good thing or a bad thing. And it really doesn’t matter. I’m not setting out to be anything but me, and i’m just having a little fun along the way. The funny part is that, when i was in my late teens, i did things simply because they were different. Now i do things simply because they are fun… And that appears to be different in and of itself. And noteworthy, in a sort of backhanded way.

Because most of us don’t go out of our way to pick the fun option. We pick the cheapest option. Or the fastest. Or the most career enhancing. And truth be told, i do each of those things as well, and far too often. Life is supposed to be more than money, or speed, or work. It’s supposed to be fun as well. And i think, as adults, we sometimes forget that. Even my quirky, weird, old white-haired broad self. It is easy to forget because of the rat race around us. But screw that. The rats no longer interest me.

So i do something fun. Like get a faux hawk. And tint it purple.

Maybe next week i’ll tint it pink.

Go ahead and laugh. Shake your head. Wonder what in the hell i was thinking.

It’s all good.

I do it to amuse myself, but if i amuse you in the process, more’s the better. I get it. You can’t bring yourself to have fun yet. You are too busy adulting. I get it. Well, at least you can laugh at me having fun. It’s better than nothing.

Just promise me, if you ever see me on a greeting card, tell me. I would expect royalties.