Storytorch

My day-to-day mood has improved significantly since I visited my hairdresser last week for more than a trim.

The idea to try a longer style grew out of my extended stay last fall in Rochester, Minnesota, when my daughter Mary was in Mayo Clinic hospitals for many weeks. Having visited the same stylist exclusively for, oh, thirty years, fear of the unknown combined with loyalty kept me from stepping into any of the salons in the underground maze of shops and services in downtown Rochester.

During those low-humidity, late-fall days, my natural curl was absent. "I look like Jay Leno!" I would exclaim to Mary and her husband Steve. "No you don't!" they responded. "Your hair looks good!" Did it? I wasn't sure.

Once home in Winterset, a care package for Mary from my daughter Rebecca included fuzzy slippers, comforting tea, activity books, and "The Devil Wears Prada" on DVD. Meryl Streep's chic, platinum grey, slightly bouffant do would be perfect for me! I printed some still photos I found online, took them to my hairdresser, and transition was under way.

As winter turned to spring, Leah and I addressed my hair issues every six weeks or so. We tried to like my longer locks. During TV taping in April, Peg the makeup artist did her best to make it work.

Maybe I will be more ready for a dramatic upsweep of bang when I'm on the eve of my 70th, rather than my 60th, birthday. Maybe Aveda will develop a product that controls longer curliness better than the four or five I've purchased over the past few months. Maybe my face is just too small for larger hair.

For now, the woman looking back at me in the mirror appears happier.

Today's Fortune Cookie Fortune:
You will remember you are no movie star.