Today I would like to show off my new, longer hairstyle. Pretty amazing that I could grow my hair that fast, isn’t it?
But hey, when you’re good you’re good.
Um. Except that something happened while it was growing. It seems to have turned . . . um . . . gray.
How could that be?
May I just say that I don’t believe gray is really my color? With my coloring, it makes me look a little scary, a little sick-ish, a little not well. (Note to self: Color your hair when the gray starts to show.)
Good thing the gray hair was just a wig, temporarily stolen from my friend, Cindy, who brought it to work--she’s the church bookkeeper--to show it off. (She decided to go ahead and get her wig choice settled in plenty of time before the chemo kicks in.)
May I just say that the wig looks absolutely stunning on her; she was made for those sparkling silvery locks. And I truly admire the panache and sense of humor of a woman facing cancer and chemo who willingly schleps in her wig so that she can provide some chortles for us church folk and break up our work day a little.
And now do you want to see something really, really scary?
Are you sure?
Okay. You asked for it.
Steve went and grabbed his guitar as soon as Cindy and I informed him (between hysterical giggles) that the wig made him look like an aging country/rock star.
I’m sincerely sorry for any nightmares these pictures may cause you.