Mein Haar ist dunkel…ja, das ist gut!

Well, it’s official. I’m dark for winter. My hair, that is. Dark dark dark. Kinda shocking at first, but I’m getting used to it. Being a raven-haired beauty, that is. Actually, I’m more of a chestnut-haired beauty, but who’s nitpicking? Really, I think I just look even paler now. The dark hair is a great excuse, though, to wear “big” make-up. I have darker brows now, because no-brows combined with dark hair make one look like little orphan Annie in the black and white comic strip. Not very attractive. So, I put on my darker brows this morning (how come men never have to put on brows?!), and then played around with my lipstick. Turns out that I can now wear the brighter colors. Well, actually, I have to or my mouth disappears altogether. Also not attractive.

I was a bit worried that Zozo wouldn’t recognize me when I got home last night, but she was fine. She’s such a cute little Bug. Every morning during The A.M. Diaper Change, we practice saying, “Mom” together. It comes out kind like “Mum” or just “Mm,” as the vowel gets cut pretty short. Usually it evolves more into “Bob” or “Bub,” but I’ll take whatever I can get. This morning she was a little cranky, though, and I was Bob right out of the gate. Maybe it’s the hair.

M was a whole other story with noticing the hair. I was walking outside to go pick up Doodle when he pulled in. I walked around his car and stood at his open door. We greeted, he got out, gave me a peck, then walked around to get his things out of the back. He began telling me about something when he finally actually looked at me for the first time. Mid-sentence, his mouth dropped open and his eyes went huge. It was pretty funny. Poor guy, I never tell him when I’m going to do something drastic with my hair. I just show up with a short cut, or highlights, or now darkness. It’s my little way of sticking it to The Man. I think he likes it, but given that his first response was, “How much did that cost?” it’s hard to tell.

I’m thinking the dark hair is sort of reminiscent of my “Black Days” in high school, as M and my mother called them. My Black Days didn’t involve dark hair so much as black clothes, all black, complete with black Converse high-tops. Loved those shoes. Listened to The Cure a lot, and Depeche Mode and Erasure. Considered myself a bit punkish. Shot black and white photography and was snobbish about color film (real artists don’t need color…color photographers just use it as a cover for sub-par art photography). My, how things change. Still wear lots of black (mainly at work due to dress code), and I now have two pairs of Chucks, although they are navy blue and hot pink (thank you Steffi!), and I shoot both color and black and white. Well, technically I shoot all color, then convert to b/w. And I don’t even use film anymore. What’s the world coming to?

There is a sign on my Starbucks bulletin board for German lessons. It’s so cute…under the headline, “Learn German! Take German lessons!” it says, very small, “Ja, das ist gut.” Which, in German, of course, means, yes, this is good. It struck me as funny, and I think that might be my little slogan for awhile. Ja! Das ist gut! I took German in high school for a couple years (however long it took to be just short of the foreign language requirement at Mizzou) and then for three kraut-packed semesters at Mizzou. About the only things I remember are how to ask for a beer and where is the bathroom. Oh, and ja, das ist gut!

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