Today I woke up to the mind-numbing sight that I’ve been ignoring for two months too long. My roots. “Prematurely” gray, and I knew I couldn’t put it off any longer.
So it was over to Tim’s so he could mix one of his magic concoctions from Sally Beauty supply and cover up the gray with…uh…some other color. As we listened to Cher, I mused aloud about what we were doing in lieu of watching the Superbowl, but Tim said he didn’t like to watch bowling on TV anyway.
Later, I emerged from the bathroom looking more like the 35-year-old I’ve been for so long, and found an oddly empty house. No dogs. No men. Not even a husband planted in front of the TV to watch the Seagulls or whoever play that other team. I made a plate of food to take to my mother, and when I went outside, I discovered where my menfolk and dogs were. Lesbians on Wheels (one biking, one Rollerblading) had stopped by and everyone was outside talking.
They were all still here when I returned from my mother’s. It’s a lovely night–not cold, not hot, too early for mosquitoes or palmetto bugs–so we sat outside and chatted, occasionally looking through the windows to catch game or halftime moments.
Over the past couple of weeks, we’ve been trying to introduce some new dishes into our culinary repertoire. Tom, probably forgetting that today was Superbowl Sunday, had offered to recreate one of my favorite dishes, spinach enchiladas in cilantro cream sauce, from Jalapenos, a local restaurant which has now closed.
His meal was excellent, and this in spite of the fact that he was cooking while watching the game.
To sum up: refreshed hair, Tim’s momCher, great friends, no bugs, good weather, happy dogs, tasty food, and something on TV that I didn’t watch… No wonder people look forward to Superbowl Sunday!
I watch it for the commercials – really! The last time I got my hair done, and colored it is now brown — the girl said “this looks awesome! It’s so close to your natural color!” I was like … Wow, how does she know that, I haven’t seen my natural color in decades…”
I know what color mine is, only because of the roots, and it ain’t pretty! I used to color my hair when I was younger, just for a change, then I stopped. I resisted doing it again for many, many years, then Tim brought me over to the dark side. Literally.
Tim was so lovingly referring to us as the Roller Dykes. We should start a team.