Really. Be honest. Brutal. I can take it. *gulp* I’m not 13 anymore. Or 22. Or 28. Or *gasp* 32. I have just turned 35. But somehow, when I look in the mirror, I just can’t see it. I try. Really I do. But I see the old me. The pre-children me. The not-getting-gray-hair me. The no-brow-wrinkles me. So I still wear my hair like this.


Basically, it’s 2 ponytails with those scunci hair clip thingies clipping the ponies upside down to the back of my head. Kind of like 2 messy ponies, instead of one at the back and center. Isn’t this a ridiculous post? I’m just having a bit of identity crisis. If I were my grandmother’s generation, long hair would have been whacked off once I was a married woman. Is 35 to old for this? Really. I want to know. I’ve asked Mr. Tango. But he fears retribution if he says it. Yes hon, you are too old for that. I can’t really blame him. But I can’t get to yall, not physically at least. Am I too old for this pony-tail thing now? I mean, I know nearly anything around the house is fine, but if I ran to the grocery, or to Blue Boy’s gymnastics lessons? Am I embarrassing myself? I need a woman’s opinion. I can take it. Really. Level with me. The worst I can do is boycott your blog. I don’t know where you live. I cannot, or am too tired to, hunt you down. Just tell me…am I hanging on too long?