2000-07-17 | 04:50:23

i got my hair "done" this weekend. a darker shade of red. fun stuff, that hair color. my sister and mom think i'm loco en la cabesa for vetoing mother nature's assigned shade of brown. i say, maybe nature made a mistake. it's happened before. witness joey buttafuoco.

i told my "colorist" how my family didn't "get" my hair experimentation. she smiled under her own dyed-black, short-cropped tresses featuring sparks of hot pink interwoven with purple feathers (yeah, feathers!), and shared that her mother often daydreams aloud, wishing that the fruit of her loins would just add subtle highlights to her natural blonde locks instead of all those crazy streaks of color and bird fur. "but dear," her mother coaxes, "it's so becoming that way."

"we can be 'becoming' when were in our 50's," i said to my stylist. she nodded and said, "yep, now it's time to have fun." then she began to slap pasty layers of dark cherry goodness onto my follicles.

this a.m. i was reflecting on my reflection and thinking about how much longer i can have "fun" before society dictates that i am of legal "becoming" age.

i remember when i was in college, guess jeans with the narrow zipper ankle were the funkiest of the funky fresh. they were called "marilyn" jeans. i remember thinking, "even when i'm a middle-aged lady, i'm gonna keep wearing these jeans. i'm gonna stay cool when i get old." little did i know that those marilyn jeans would have the half-life of a candle in the wind.

one thing for sure: i won't be one of those wacky earth mothers in my 40s, wearing layers of multi-patterned rayon, dangling, multi-tiered earrings, and an errant streak of persimmon in my close-to-the-cranium buzz-cut. nah. uh-uh. no.

libido update:

still no action. one of my best friends is going to move to new york. she was trying to convince me and her sister to move, too, by saying, "c'mon! we'll be like that show 'sex in the city'!" this is my question: "will there be sex? because that's worth moving for."

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