Passing the Torch

A new era has begun.

Tim taught Margaret how to touch up my roots.

It takes a village to cover this gray.

A Splotch of Gray

Okay, it's time to discuss the outcome of Tom's coloring my hair last night.

The results were mixed.

On the one hand, it was fun. We laughed a lot and it was a very intimate act. I mean, I don't remember feeling that close to him since, well you know... he picked the nits out of my hair .

On the other hand, he missed a few (big!) spots. His advice to me upon inspection, "Well, it looks like you'll have to do a comb over."

Certainly not words I thought I'd hear in my lifetime.

And in less than 2 weeks I'll be at a big blogging convention, which kind of sort of seems like the closest I've been to a prom since 1987. And while I won't have a date trying to deflower me in the back of his grandfather's Town Car, I will have some pretty pressure-filled moments as I try to hang with the big guys (er, girls).

I mean, I don't know half of the hip bloggy jargon and my real goal is to drink wine with people I have admired from afar rather than trying to do anything fancy to my blog.

I have some other issues, in addition to the comb over, that will not be working in my favor at this convention:

1. 5 lb summer weight gain. This may be as a result of canceling our pool membership, thus alleviating any pressure I've felt to fit into a swimsuit.

2. Going straight from my husband's family reunion in CT to the convention. Let me paint a little picture for you: 18 relatives, 1 week, 1 house. By the time I get to NYC I may very well have lost my mind.

And at my in-laws I think we may have been downgraded from our traditional twin beds. Not that my air mattress under the ping pong table won't be restful, but I have a feeling Psycho Anna will show up early and often. My mental state might not be the best for meeting new people.

3. The anti-humidity hair treatment appears to be wearing off. I fear I'll be like Cinderella at midnight when I turn into a big-haired pumpkin on 5th Avenue. Hello? August? In New York?

4. Due to much stellar planning, I have arranged to be on Day 1 of my period at the convention. This will ensure that I am a zitty, semi-comatose ferret, better suited to curling up with my friends Ben and Jerry in a fetal position than hanging with the cool girls in high heels and halters. Also, on Day 1 I can't drink alcohol without feeling sick, so there's that.

When I try to explain to Tom why I spent hundreds of dollars to watch Lifetime movies by myself in a New York hotel room while everyone else was out having fun, I don't know what I'll say...Nah, after almost 20 years with me, he'll think that sounds about right.

5. Additional 5 lb weight gain. See #4.

So, that's about it.

So if you are in NYC the first weekend in August, please take pity on me and come up and introduce yourself. I promise I won't bite. I mean, that may be what I do when I'm PMS-ing, but you will have just missed it.

Who knows? If you hang out with me, maybe we'll have a celebrity sighting like the last time I hit the big city.

An Inch of Gray, A Dearth of Friends?

Seems like an inch of gray may not be the way to go. Is this why my phone hasn't been ringing lately? Check out this Clairol ad from 1944 and see why.

(click on image for a closer look)