I’m used to finding my hair here there and everywhere, I often say that like most breeds of dogs I molt.  It doesn’t concern me, I’ve got plenty of hair to go around.  I was however quite horrified when I plucked a strand of grey hair off my jumper!  Being thirty one I am quite aware that a few grey hairs have started showing up BUT I had no idea I had more than just a few.  Grey on a horse is beautiful but grey on a thirty one year old?   AAAHHHH…what do I do now?  Do I dye my hair?  Do I age naturally and welcome a multi-coloured mop of hair that will ultimately return to just one colour… GREY!  Perhaps I’ll just ignore it and avoid all mirrors for the next few years because let’s face it… I’m too cheap to fork over money for hair dye!

I’d rather have a tooth extracted than go to the hairdresser! I know it sounds a bit drastic but I have a fear of the hairdresser that I just can’t explain. Oh and I mean it when I say I’d rather have a tooth extracted. I have had all four wisdoms pulled while I was under local anesthetic and I can honestly say that the crunching and grinding was more enjoyable than the feeling I get when I sit in the hairdressers chair. I know it’s not the hairdressers themselves, they are just people. Plus my mother-in-law was a hairdresser for many, many years and I’m not phobic around her. I know it’s just hair and hair grows back so if they stuff up it’s not the end of the world BUT I seriously don’t like the whole experience. The chit chat I could do without and that dreaded question “what would you like done?” How the hell am I supposed to know? I’m not a bloody hairdresser I don’t know what’s going to suit my face. Every time I take the plunge and go to the hairdresser (about twice a year) I come back with a “trim”. In fact last haircut I came home and my husband said “Did you have a haircut?” I handed over my money so I suppose I did but I took his point…..I looked exactly the same. Perhaps my reluctance to have anything done steams from a perm I had back in high school? That was a shock to my system, perhaps subconsciously I’m yet to get over it? Who knows but I know one thing for sure, my hair is too long to ignore it any longer……I must face my demons and phone the hairdresser.