#144 - I Don't Like Fretting Over the Wig

Fretting Again
​

I'm starting to sound repetitive about this hair stuff, but here I go... 
​I'm actually getting used to facing friends and strangers with my new funny hair growth. But last Wednesday, I suddenly started fretting again, over whether or not to wear my wig.  

I was getting ready to drive to Austin to meet my childhood friend. What was the big deal? Diane knew me back in my pixie cut days, so my extra short hair wouldn't be too shocking. Then again, there's a lot of gray now. It was tempting to just put a big distracting bow on my head. That's the kind of thing I would have done at age 7, back when Diane lived next door.

Costumes
​
​I knew I shouldn't fret. Diane, of all people  wouldn't think anything of my gray hair. She wore it well... in a bun, when we trick-or-treated years ago.

I probably should have worn a white veil, just to make Diane laugh. But we were meeting up in the Driskill Hotel bar and I didn't have the guts (or the veil) to pull that off.

Wearing costumes was always fun with Diane.

​Cowgirls

It was tempting to wear a cowboy hat. After all, Diane was coming to Texas all the way from New Hampshire. She would surely be delighted to spot her old friend wearing a felt hat with a cord, fastened under the chin!

​Back when we were in Kindergarten, we dressed up in our cowboy gear a lot. At least that's what it says in the illustrated autobiography I wrote, when I was all grown up ... at age  11.

​We Talked...
​
​So I braved it and left the wig box in the car. I headed into the hotel to wait. Diane didn't have a hard time recognizing me.

We gabbed for 5 hours and we could have gone on for 5 more.

We Played...
​
​Before we even had a drink, we explored and laughed our way all over the historic hotel. It felt like we were back in Iowa, acting up.  

But at least back when we did our kid pranks, we were smart enough to hide behind our disguises. I wish I had a photo of us back in the day with our plastic mustache & glasses combo. 

Heading Home
​
​I drove home to Houston that night, thinking about our shared memories, living next door as kids. I thought over what we learned about each other as we talked about our lives since 1966.

And I even thought about the great internet, that reconnected us 10 years ago and has allowed us to keep in touch.

What I didn't think about... was my hair or my wig! 
​