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Posted Sep 11 2009 2:12pm
I dye my hair. I've been dying my hair regularly for probably 15 years now. It needs to be done again. I study the gray roots in the mirror.
Mary and I were talking a couple days ago. I met Mary on the first day of seventh grade, our first day at the high school. The place seemed so huge, although, actually it wasn't. We were lost in the halls, the bells had rung, and we were scared to death that we would be in trouble, and we were both looking for room 208. We found it. We also found a friendship that has lasted through thick and thin for the 40 years since. When we were teenagers, we agonized about our skin, and about our looks, and, (oh horrors!) our hair, which was not long enough, and not straight like the popular girls' hair. I'm going to lose my hair, but Dixie had told me how a friend's hair had grown back after chemo, and it was beautiful, and thick and even better than it had been before. Mary said that she had heard the same thing.
I need to get my hair colored, but cannot bring myself to waste the money. I'm practical like that. I look at my hair in the mirror. The hair thing, that's gonna be a toughy.
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