Fairy tale.

Sometimes your knight in shining armor isn’t a knight at all but instead it’s a queen and a little prince who whisk you away to the woods with the promise of PB&J sandwiches and butterflies.

I had a good day today in spite of myself.  I was feeling bummed about the evolution of certain relationships. I posted this on Facebook:  “One of the most heartbreaking things in the world is when you realize that you are nowhere near as important to someone as they are to you.” not really thinking it would go anywhere or resonate with anyone.  Apparently, I am not alone.

However, I was rejuvenated by a long walk in the woods, a nap under clean sheets, and a great BBQ with some of my oldest friends.  I even did karaoke!   It was Young MC’s “Bust a Move” in case you were wondering, which I pretty much did from memory.  If you listened to that tape as much as I did as a kid, you could do it too.

My cheeks are pink and yes, my feet are dirty.  I am very fortunate to have such amazing people in my life.  My life is full of struggles and things aren’t always easy, but I am very lucky to love and be loved.

Namaste.

I got lost in VT due to bad Google directions and sleepiness.  I was running on about two hours of sleep and Red Bull.  I managed to follow my own internal directional beacon instead of the printout and I made it to the Goodwill, where I bought a crazy skirt.  I can’t wait to break it out at the BBQ we are going to tomorrow.

I had so much fun last night!  I saw some local music, drank good beer (and then switched to cheap beer, which could explain my headache), saw a lot of old friends, made some new friends, talked about pop culture and laughed very hard many times.

One of my favorite parts of the night:

Me, to a friend I last saw on St. Patrick’s Day:  “Was it dark when I saw you?  I remember it being dark.”

Friend:  “It wasn’t dark.  It was five o’clock.”

This morning I woke up with a hoarse, squeaky voice, the remnants of a very colorful flower drawn on my arm, dirty feet, and some pretty awesome bedhead. 

What a great night!

Hair.

I have some pretty crazy hair.  In fact, you should see what it looks like this morning.  I have often joked that I am thankful that God blessed me with good hair because I am too lazy to do any sort of style.  Right now my hair is the best style for me:  wash, comb conditioner through it, rinse, air dry.  See?  Lazy.

I had all one length hair until I was 13.  I begged my former hairdresser Mom for bangs.  She finally relented and cut them for me.  Mind you, this was in 1990, when big, over sprayed bangs were all the rage.  I have super curly hair and I am not really all that handy with styling tools, so my bangs resulted in having to get up earlier to tame my curls into something using White Rain hair spray and a curling iron I bought at a yard sale for a buck.  It’s only been in recent years that a burn on my index finger has faded.  I even managed to drop the damn thing on my thigh.  Don’t ask.

But bangs brought boy attention and my first boyfriend/first kiss.  I swear I was invisible until I got bangs.

That boyfriend dumped me two days before Valentine’s Day the following year and I spent the rest of high school trying to grow the damn bangs out.

I started dying my hair at 15:  one single, small purple  section underneath my hair.  I would wear my hair in a bun just to show of my purple braid.  Again, it was the 90’s, don’t judge.  My Mom did it for me but she wouldn’t let me dye my whole head purple.  I got around her rule by using a semi permanent dye called Gilints in some sort of plum color and for the next twelve years of so, my hair was various shades of burgundy or purple.  For the majority of that time, I settled on a color named Egyptian Plum.

I have been a vegetarian for a long time and I consistently felt guilty that I was cruelty free in everything else I used on face and body, but every month or so, I would slather my head with chemicals that were probably tested on animals.  On the night before my 27th birthday, I dyed my hair for the last time.  I have been hair dye free for eight years.

Why am I going on about my hair’s history?  Well, recently I had a discussion with my father and stepmother about grey hair which has made me thing about my hair a lot.  I have had a patch of grey hair on the back of my head for years that is located over a scar I got when I cracked my head on a canister vacuum cleaner when I was a kid.  So, I am no stranger to grey hair.  When my stepmother pointed out that she could see my grey hairs, I made sure to section out my hair and show her the white hairs that I am so proud of and I told her.  Yes, my hair isn’t going grey, it’s going white and I can’t wait.  I have earned every one of these white hairs and I have no intention of coloring my hair just to spare people the sight of my white hair.

Oh, and one more thing about my hair:  much like you shouldn’t rub a pregnant woman’s belly, you should pet my hair either.  I can’t even begin to tell you how many times strangers have approached me, just to pet my hair.  I wish I were kidding.

Here’s a photo from my best friend’s wedding a couple of years ago, showing my hair in all its wild glory:

I never post here and I don’t know why. I guess it’s because I feel social media saturated, like too much of my information is all ready out in the atmosphere. I use Facebook extensively, I have maintained a LiveJournal for over ten years, and I have a sadly neglected cooking blog which I also maintain a Facebook for. Throw in Flickr and Pinterest and you see where I’m at. I started a Tumblr to keep up with folks who blog exclusively on this format.

Where the fuck am I going with this? Well, I want to write more here and share the things that don’t fit in with all of my other Internet hangouts. I also want to get to know some other likeminded folks.

Here’s where you come in: suggest some people you think I might dig. I mean heck, even Robyn Hitchcock has Tumblr now. What am I waiting for?

I have spring fever so bad that I can barely contain myself.  It’s 46 degrees here, on the 6th day of February.  I need to go outside and play.  Pity it will be in the 20’s tomorrow.

Come on spring!  Well, if I can’t have spring now, at least we can spring forward on March 11th.  I need sunshine!

Day three: wisdom tooth extraction.

The first night, I slept so well. That carried into the next afternoon when I took a great nap.

Now I am on my second night of insomnia. It’s not pain or thoughts keeping me awake.

I just can’t sleep.

The temperature is perfect. There is a kitty curled up on my foot and my husband is snuggled to my side.

I just can’t sleep.

I am on day two of my wisdom tooth extraction adventure.

This might be the only time in my life where I don’t feel guilty eating large quanities of mac and cheese, avocados, mashed potatoes, and coconut milk ice cream.

Right now I am starving, but I don’t want to go through the pain of eating.  So, all of that delicious food?  This gal isn’t up to the challenge tonight.

When I can eat solid foods again, I am going to whip up a large batch of BBQ tempeh and make huge sandwiches topped with red onions and cheddar cheese.

But until then, I will eat some broth with mushy oyster crackers.

Here’s a tip:  You know those ice packs used to keep lunches cold?  Those make great ice packs for your swollen, post extraction face.