Haircuts

I have always cut my own hair...for one thing, I don't trust anyone else to do it. For another, I find it to be therapeutic. Like I can cut parts of me away with each snip. Whenever I've had some revelation or another, I always cut my hair...sometimes it is a bad thing and I go too far because I don't have enough hair to cut without looking stupid in the end. Then sometimes I am meticulous and make it look really cute. I really need a haircut now. I feel like things are heavy, and are making me sluggish. It needs to be trimmed so I can revitalize myself. I'm 31 for pete's sake and I feel like I'm 60. (I'm assuming that this is how it feels to be 60, of course.) There is nothing like cutting the first piece of hair off. It makes me a little nervous, but totally satisfied. It grows back after all. It's the closest I can get to shedding my own skin. Sometimes I just have to get rid of some of me. Yes, I shall get some Stella and have a haircut.

For Your Information

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When Music Became Relevant

Do you remember when a certain song became an official part of your soundtrack to your life? For me, there are so many songs, that I forget about them, until I hear them again, and then WHOOSH, the memory comes flooding back! It plays like a movie inside my head, every little detail, every emotion, good and bad, like it happened yesterday. Music is funny that way. I found a magical place called Lala.com and they seem to have EVERY song that is on my life soundtrack! So much fun. So much pain. I have heard songs that remind me of friends who have long since passed to the other side, and some too young and some too old. I remember great loves, heartbreak, crying, fantasizing and being bitch slapped back to reality. Some memories are just of me in my car I was driving at the time that the song or album or artist became a permanent part of my life, or riding in someone else's car when it became a memory. Some times a song would make me feel happy, sometimes angry, sometimes would console me, and sometimes would tell me to get over it. Music is funny like that. As Jerry Garcia sang "Lately it occurs to me, what a long, strange trip it's been" indeed.

Threat

The thing about being a single woman, for me, a spinster and wishing to stay single, is that I am viewed as a threat to other women. I totally understand, but it doesn't suck any less. The thing women need to understand is that I have been on all sides of a bad relationship...I've been the mistress, I've been the cheater and I've been the cheated-on. I have no intention of ever being any of those again. Once upon a time, I was out for blood...out to destroy the beauty of relationships or what I considered to be delusions. Then I was in a relationship, (which turned out to be an actual delusion), and was threatened by another woman and she was the demise of the delusion. This was a horrible feeling, and I wouldn't wish it on anyone...OK, mostly. Nevertheless, I am no longer out to hurt people. I want people to be happy, even if I don't believe in relationships for me. Being in love and being loved is important for everyone, I will never be the one to destroy that...unless it is a dangerous situation that a loved one is in, then I will destroy it!

I Don't Have the Hands for Popcorn!

It's true. Most people can pick up a bunch of popcorn, then use their tongues to put pieces into their mouths...not me! I can only pick up one piece at a time, and then very carefully, put the piece of popcorn into my mouth, and hold my hand there until my mouth closes, or else the popcorn will jump out of my mouth and land on the floor. When I go to dump a bag of popcorn into a bowl...escapees are jumping out at every angle...onto the floor. I'm not sure why the popcorn thinks the floor is a safer place than my mouth, but popcorn has no desire to go into my mouth. If I even attempt to pick up a handful of popcorn, all but one piece will land on the floor, the last will start in my mouth, then jump into my cleavage or onto the floor. I don't know why. Maybe I don't flatter the popcorn as much as I should...after all, I'm not a huge fan of popcorn, and for 15 years I was allergic to it. So maybe if I sweet talk the popcorn, it will stop trying to escape. Or maybe, I just don't have the hands for popcorn.

Sacrifices

As a self-proclaimed spinster, I realize that I have given up on a lot of things in life that we as humans seem to strive toward. When I made my decision about my future plans in Africa, I was fully aware that I had just given up on ever getting married or having long lasting love. I'm not saying that I won't fall in love again, that seems to be something I cannot control (I hate that!). However, seeing as how my goal is to dedicate my life to save the lives of animals that need help, it doesn't mean that I don't mourn my sacrifice. I watch movies about love and happy endings, or growing old with someone and I can't help but mourn what I have chosen to sacrifice. Once upon a time, all I wanted was to get married and breed, but things change a person and that is okay! I know in my heart that I wasn't meant to do all of that...that there is a greater purpose for my existence, and yet, I still cry at the romantic scenes in movies and at real weddings, and not because I'm so happy that they lived happily ever after, but because I know it is something I will never experience. I cry because I grieve. The heart of a hopeless romantic paired with the mind of a spinster.

Not So Dark...

For those of you who had the uncomfortable experience of reading my "When Darkness Falls" post, sorry, it had to be written...however...I came in the house today from smoking on the back porch, there is a wall in the rec room that holds framed pictures of the entire family on both sides. The whole wall is covered. I usually try not to look at it, because immediately, my eyes go directly to HIS picture next to my grandmother's, today I was distracted and my eyes found the most stimulating thing, the bloodline wall, and what was that?? A little piece of gold protruding from the wall, glowing in the low light...it's gone! HE IS GONE! I still see my grandmother's picture from when she was 15, but it's mate is GONE! What about the other one, when they were old...the way I remembered him....holy shit! It's gone as well! My parents took it down! My father took HIS father off our bloodline wall! In case you don't know, it took each of them reading that post in order for my dad to REALLY understand and he emailed me that he now understood that his father was no grandpa, but a monster. That acknowledgment lifted some weight off of my shoulders...my father's decision to remove his pictures off the wall lifted a little more weight. It's not so dark. Thank you.