by Kris Pitcher
My husband and I have worked out together for years. It's sacred time that brings us closer. It's time when we connect, when we're in tune with one another. Nearing the end of our back workout this week he was gazing at me kind of intensely. I was waiting for him to say something poetic, encouraging...kind of romantic maybe.
"Your hair looks kinda green under these lights," he said. Now, I am a dirty-dish watery blond...I'll give him that. And those of you who have been Bliss readers for a while know that I, upon turning my hair green prior to marrying him, made a promise never to chemically treat myself again.
When we got home I asked him if it still looked greenish, or if it had just been the slightly unbecoming lights at the gym. He thought it still did and maybe I was getting a few more greys...hmmm. Could I be eating too much broccoli?
So, screw aging gracefully, saving money, or going native with the hair color. I've got to get right on this! I'm thinking some highlights, some low-lights, give me foils or give me death! Well, OK maybe not death. But these curls are joining the masses. Can I get a heck yeah?!