Eye of the Beholder

I have been complaining for the last little while (not here, but in conversations with friends and family) that my new hair—at least so far—is a dull, mousy-brown color.

I know full well that post-chemo, hair can change both color and texture, and I also know (so save your comments) that there is an entire hair-color industry out there, and that I could, with my half-inch locks, become a blonde or a redhead or anything else I might fancy in about eight minutes flat.

But I'm not so much the hair-coloring type (not, tipping my hat to Seinfeld, that there's anything wrong with that), so I was kind of hoping to return to the good old dark brown of yore. And, as I said, the term "mousy" is what's been on my tongue of late.

Dave, the delightful guy who cuts (or at least shapes) my hair, has a much more flattering—or at least charitable—way with words. When he greeted me this afternoon, he said something like, Wow—your hair is coming back with a vengeance, and it's this great champagne color!

Cheers!