Since I've been sick all winter, practically all superfluity has come to a stop, including coloring my hair, which, yes, I usually do. A few weeks ago I noticed that I was developing a Cruella de Vil grey streak in my hairline. However fabulous de Vill might be, that grey streak is not for me. A friend reminded me that Susan Sontag has a similar, equally fabulous streak. But, honestly, I think I'm too young. Aren't I?
Anyway, I stumbled into some exceptional overhead lighting the other day (the horror!) and realized that not only did I have a grey streak, that basically ALL my hair was coming out of my head just straight up silvery grey. I should mention that I think grey hair is actually very beautiful on other people. I myself am not YET forty years old, however. "Not Yet Forty" is too young to have grey hair blasting out of your hair follicles like fireworks from a cannon.
I immediately made an appointment with my colorist but she just had a baby and is harder to schedule now so I have to wait a few weeks.
Meanwhile, I'm watching the Winter Olympics. Everyone is so young, particularly my favorite, the lady snowboarders. I don't know their names but the American girls seem mostly to be from South Lake Tahoe and they all wear their hair in two carefree side-braids and they're as cute as can be (aside from being kick-ass snowboarders). Snowboarding is for young people, ie, people in their 20s and below. M tried it in his thirties and spent the whole time on his ass and with a sore tailbone for months. There's a statute of limitations on being physical adventurousness, just like there is on moving yourself. At a certain point, you hire movers, and you can't take up new sports. You just can't.
Anyway, M & I are watching the figure skaters and, you know, every once in a while they fall down. Sometimes from great heights, like however many feet it is for a dude to hold you on the crotch by the flat of his palm stretched above his head. And when they fall, we go "Oooo!" And then the announcers go, "Oh NO! ALL their HOPES and DREAMS were just SHATTERED!" And for a second, you get carried away, and think, "Gee, I think maybe all their hopes and dreams of winning a gold medal just might be shattered." And maybe they get the yips and fall some more. Ooo! and OH NO from the announcers ALL THEIR DREAMS ARE DESTROYED! And then it's over, and you see two young people smile ruefully and shrug their shoulders. I mean, these are people who don't have a single grey hair in their heads; it doesn't seem like their hopes and dreams are destroyed. You can learn a lot from those damn kids about falling down and getting back up again.
The Girls - Emma Cline's first novel, *The Girls*, is the kind of book that you can't put down. It's also the kind of book, if you're me, that fills you with jealous r...
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