Bent Words

Bent Words

August 15, 2008

While I understand and begrudgingly accept the fact that we're all supposed to get older and, inevitably, we do, I conversely do not believe that one should be so entirely subject to such a fate at the age of pre-30. Meaning, white hair should not be on my "Holy Shit" list for at least another ten years. At least.


It's not even gray hair, which I could conceive passing off as blond if anyone were so entirely rude as to point it out as I always do to other people -- it's white. Hello, wake up, watch out, LOOK AT ME I'M REALLY BRIGHT and in yo face freaking WHITE. My hair is like Michael Jackson. It's like that kid who never brushed and one night figured she could go Crest White Stripes and no one would notice. I'm that kid. Or my hair is. Which is weird; comparing my hair to a plastic surgery psycho and a non-hygienic high schooler. But you're picking up what I'm putting down...

I don't even have kids. Kids are the ultimate reason why we get white hair, right? I mean, that's what we tell them when they're old enough to feel guilty -- "You turned my hair white, you little bastard, with all your sneaking out of the house in the middle of the night and all your drug doing and your stupid friends having (*such as)." We blame them for our getting old because they stress us out and make us turn older faster. But I don't have kids. I have cats (hey, only two cats -- I need at least three more before I'm considered Crazy Cat Lady). And cats don't make you get older faster than you're supposed to, right? I"ll have to get rid of them otherwise.

I'm not strung out on crack (yet, though the depression may force hasty measures), I don't rescue people from small holes in the ground which may cave in at any moment or handle highly confidential information which may lead to an assassination for a living and I've never seen a super scary ghost. I'm not even really old. I simply have no good reason for this sudden onslaught of white hair (the two that I've found in the past three months).

So what's the f'ing deal?

Who knows. Stupid hair. Stupid color changing hair.

I think I need a nap. Stupid old getting...

*Thank you, Miss North Carolina -- that made me feel better

Written at 9:12 p.m.