Hair Crazy

   Gonna toot my own horn a bit:  today is six weeks since I smoked a cigarette!  For those of you who've never been besties with the stinky smoking habit (or any other addiction, take your pick), that may not seem like much to toot about.  But for me, that's like saying I haven't eaten in six weeks, or taken a poop.  Smoking was that much a part of my existence.  Living without my besties is getting easier over time, I'm no longer wishing I was drugged 24/7 so I don't have to face the day.  I thank God and about.com for that (they have an awesome smoking cessation forum with fabulous folks that reached out and lifted me up when I was being a big wussy and ready to quit quitting).  So I'm sending props to anyone else out there trying to kick an addiction's butt.  Good luck and get angry and fierce, that's the only way!
   Remember the late-1960s Broadway nudie musical "Hair"?  That song, I think it was even used in a commercial recently, keeps going through my head -- "Gimme a head with hair, long beautiful hair."  Hair is a crrr-azy thing, especially for those of us who were kids when that musical came out and are now "middle aged."  By the way, I hate that term.  Seriously, how many of us are going to live to be 100?  So we've gone way over the cliff of the middle of our lives already.  And who wants to be in the middle anyway?  Being the middle child is no fun, being a middle manager means you do all the work and get no credit for it, and middle-of-the-road anything is just blase -- no thanks.  Back to hair, most of us are facing the lack of it, too dayum much of it where you don't want it to begin with, or it's going white and making us feel older than we already do.  Lately I've been having to trim my nose hairs and upper-lip hair all the time.  Never had to do that before.  The hairs in my eyebrows are growing in white and when I try to pluck them out, I end up with bald spots in my brows.  And the hairs on my thighs aren't growing at all anymore, but by noon I've got a five o'clock shadow on my calf hairs even though I shave every morning.  Poor DMan has got it even worse:  he's losing more hair from the bald spot on top of his head every day but having to pluck dark, wild horn-like hairs out of the top of his nose and ears so he's not poking me when we're kissing.  Someone should be putting "Hair, The Nightmare" on Broadway about people of my generation.  It would be a hoot!  But please, I'm begging you, no nudity!  Leave us at least a little dignity.
   Hope I made you laugh and have a fine crazy day, Yall!