Four years ago I decided I wanted long hair once again. It had been twenty years or more since my last experience. Which means that in the intervening years I’d reached that age where long hair on women isn’t particularly flattering.
Still . . . the itch was there. And so on a road trip to Yellowstone Park in 2012 I decided to let my hair down, so to speak. And today, I have hair that is below my shoulders, all one length, and the goal I’d strived for. I wanted hair that I could pin up on top of my head, wear as a ponytail, and even braid. Four years of judicious appointments at my local salon with Angie have achieved this. (Actually, I’d have gotten there soon if it hadn’t been for Angie, but that’s another blog.)
In fact, now my hair is too long. Left alone, it falls in my face. Pulled back, it’s looks left over. And piled on my head isn’t as attractive as I’d remembered.
So . . . the itch has been scratched. Don’t be surprise if I show up at our next get-together with a new style.