Baby Trash

There are times in your life when you must cry, times when you must rejoice, times when you will laugh and times when you will scream.  Everyone gets depressed, feels sad, lonely and wants nothing more than to crawl in a hole and pull it in after them.  This was my today.  I do dumb things when I am sad, usually to make myself feel better.  Shopping was a big one, go out and purchase something completely frivilous and unnecessary, like a pair of huge black sunglasses that make me look so completely cool, but someone ends up putting them on their too big head and stretching them out on me.  Depression brings about change, and to aleve my sadness I will take it out on my hair which has become depressed about all the abuse it must bear at my behest and my command of the brush, hairdryer, hairspray and my very expensive sunglass hairband.  Today to soothe myself I called my hairdresser and ordered her to make my hair happy again with a proper dye job and a serious haircut, I watched in shock as four to five inch bits of my hair fell to the floor around me, my head became lighter and my peripheral vision returned.  I haven't seen anything 90 degrees to my right or left for about a year.

My hair is "scene" the kids told me, I like it, but I look like Jared Leto.  My mother likes it, that's never a good sign.  My husband says it's okay, kind of like the way he says I look fine in whatever I wear rather than describe what he might dislike and risk life and limb.  My hairdresser loves it, and her opinion counts to me, she's my best friend of sixteen years.

My mood, unfortunately, didn't improve much today.  I feel like I spent about half the day crying, so it must be about 25 days since my last crying jag...yeah that time.  I think I will go find something salty, start a chocolate milk I.V. and put in some movie with a skinny bitch heroine who makes me angry enough to spit because she is showing off the body she stole from me many years ago.  Monday I will start that "Lose 8 pounds this week!" diet I saw on a magazine cover, by Tuesday I will be unconscious face-down in a McDonalds bag and Wednesday I'll vow to try it again the following Monday.  As if Monday isn't a miserable enough day on it's own, I have to give it the added pressure of being my "I'm starting that diet today" day.

In case anybody cares, I'll post pictures of my Emo hair tomorrow when both of us (my hair and I) are feeling better.