Chick Wit: Going gray: A highlight of life?

What's the difference between accepting yourself and giving up?

I'm talking of course, about going gray.

Because that's what's happening.

I've had glimmers of gray hair before, but it was concentrated on the right and left sides of my head, which gave me a nice Bride of Frankenstein look.

But I've been working so hard over the winter that I haven't bothered to get my hair highlighted, and today I noticed that there's a lot more gray than there used to be.

And you know what?

It doesn't look terrible.

Also the world did not come to an end.

In fact, nothing happened, one way or the other.

But before we start talking about going gray, we have to talk about going brown. I seem to remember that brown is my natural hair color, but I forget. In any event, sometime in the Jurassic, I started highlighting my hair. It was long enough ago that highlights didn't require a second mortgage.

But no matter, some women are vain enough to pay anything to look good, and she would be me. I figured my highlights were a cost of doing business. In fact, I named my company Smart Blonde, so highlights were practically a job requirement, if not a uniform.

In fact, maybe highlights are deductible.

Just kidding, IRS.

(I know they'll really laugh at that one. They have a great sense of humor.)

Anyway, my hair appointment for new highlights is tomorrow, but I'm really wondering if it's worth it. Not because of the money, or even the time, but because I'm starting to accept the fact that my hair is not only secretly brown, it's secretly gray.

And so I'm thinking, maybe I should just let it go. Accept that I'm not only going gray, but I'm going brown, which I used to think was worse. And that maybe I should just accept myself as I am.

Or, in other words, give up.

Now, before I start getting nasty letters, let me just say that I love silvery gray hair on people. I know women who look terrific with all-over gray hair, but mine isn't all-over yet. It's coming only in patches, which looks like somebody spilled Clorox on my head.

You know you're in trouble when your hair matches your laundry.

Also, my gray hair is growing in stiff and oddly straight, so it looks like it's raising its hand.

But that might be my imagination.

And before you weigh in on this question, let me add the following:

I'm also deciding whether to start wearing my glasses, instead of contacts. Yes, if you check out the sparkly-eyed picture of me above, you'll see me in contacts. Actually, I took them out right after the photo, because they're annoying. Fast forward to being middle-aged, where anytime you're wearing your contacts, you have to wear your reading glasses, and so one way or the other, glasses are going to get you.

And I'm starting to think that's OK, too. In other words, I may be accepting myself for the myopic beastie that I am.

Which is good.

Or I may merely be getting so lazy that I cannot be bothered to look my best.

Which is not so good.

So how do you know?

I throw this out to you, dear readers. I know how smart you all are. Not only are you smart enough to read me, you're smart enough to know I meant humidifier in the last column, instead of dehumidifiers.

Because in addition to gray hair and nearsightedness, I also accept that I don't have the answers to many things. For example, I just drove home from New York City and I don't know the difference between the E-ZPass lane and the Express E-ZPass lane.

Life isn't always E-Z.