I found my first gray hair the other night. And though I probably have a couple of them already, this is the first one I really, truly noticed because it’s in the front, near my face. Let me tell you this: I didn’t panic at the thought of giving birth, but finding this one strand of gray hair made me Google hair dye products as soon as I could.
But while I was reading about permanent color versus touch-ups and ammonia-free kits versus henna ones, I realized that I was being crazy. I told myself to get a grip. It’s just one, freaking strand of gray; not your whole head of hair. Once you have clumps of gray all over your head then you can panic. Hahahaha.
Then, I realized that in a little over a month I’m going to turn 40. The big Four-Oh. It’s a milestone, I suppose. One, that my mom tells me that I ought to celebrate with a huge party because I need to ward off bad luck. (It’s a Chinese superstition.) But I don’t think I want to have an elaborate shindig. I’ve never been the type to like big, fancy gatherings. I’d rather spend time with a smaller, more intimate group talking the night away while eating good food and having lots of dessert. Plus, most of my good friends are not here in Canada. So this idea of a big party is a no-go from the get-go.
Which brings me to this post… I don’t know what I want to do to celebrate this milestone. I’ve been thinking about it for the past few days and sometimes I ask myself whether I need to celebrate it at all. See, I believe that each day in a person’s life should be celebrated, that each day should be deliberately meaningful. So why should one day be particularly different than any other? Moreover, why should this coming year, my 40th, be given more “hype” than my 39th year? or my 41st? or my 53rd?
I really don’t know.
Maybe I ought to start by dyeing my hair purple. I’ve always wanted to. And doing so, for sure, will cover up all the bloody strands of gray. Ha!