Apparently the Universe had one more gift in store for me because I woke up this morning with something strange growing out of my head. I hesitate to call it a gray hair - I don't want it to become too familiar with me and invite its friends - but it's definitely lighter and more wiry than the rest of my hair. Not cool, Universe. GO TO YOUR ROOM.
I didn't pluck it because, for the moment, I'm choosing to refuse it exists. Except for the whole 'telling the Internet' part. You see, this alleged gray hair is throwing a wrench in my plans. I had always thought of myself as someone that wouldn't fret over gray hairs and wrinkles, someone who would just age naturally and gracefully. But that was assuming I wouldn't get a gray hair until I was 30. This rogue hair is AT LEAST 3 years premature and I don't know how to deal with it - dye it, pluck it or fuck it?
At least it's in the front so maybe I can rock a saucy gray streak, a la Stacy London. ![](https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZZ5TUhe6s3ujMawLDzVLJ2R7RovUeJPwSgRd3yVbf9IgS793FJrU6Yc6x5pXS1FMZTbegnfx_t1zsBCXueC-hbEf-zSVtN1ngC75zCEmJDGpw23cXPDaDT5Oyy-fqhBzuaEV0xLvHAw/s400/stacy.jpg)
![](https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZZ5TUhe6s3ujMawLDzVLJ2R7RovUeJPwSgRd3yVbf9IgS793FJrU6Yc6x5pXS1FMZTbegnfx_t1zsBCXueC-hbEf-zSVtN1ngC75zCEmJDGpw23cXPDaDT5Oyy-fqhBzuaEV0xLvHAw/s400/stacy.jpg)
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