I feel a little bit robbed.
I apparently have an abnormality, which I was not made aware of until recently. I possess something so large, I was told to hide my monstrosity, before anyone of importance could see it. Why wasn’t I alerted to this previously? I have lived day in and day out for years without even thinking about it, but apparently it is so severe, it has interfered with my work. And now that it has been pointed out to me, my obsession over it is repeatedly hitting me head on.
Maybe I should consider it the opposite of an obstacle, maybe an endowment … it’s said that bigger is better. Right? What I feel like is the better part of a fool, one who so unknowingly and prominently has been displaying this freak of nature, like it was a natural occurrence.
My ignorance of this anomaly I have, has been taken from me and I want it back.
So, if you catch me staring at your forehead, forgive me, I’m not judging you, I’m judging me.
The funny thing about motherhood is that it changes so much of your life, but in some ways it keeps you stuck in a rut. Your emotions change, your body changes, and life as you know it, changes. Everything is different and even the changes are consistently changing too. One thing that hadn’t changed for me, was my hair.
The last time I had significantly refashioned my hair was when I was pregnant. I fell for the false theory that short hair is easier to care for by new moms who now have a baby slung to their chests and have less time to be worried about their appearance. Wrong! I still made the time in my day to style my now short hair, just as I did my long hair. During pregnancy my hair was growing rapidly due to the hormones having a heyday in my system, ten inches were removed and donated to Locks of Love, again prompted by the hormones. Just thinking about children having to deal with cancer would bring me to tears.
Well, I haven’t been pregnant for seven years and for the last several years I have been wearing my hair long, maybe the longest since I was a little girl, and I have been afraid of cutting it. I don’t know why. I really need to cut my hair.
When I turned forty I decided I couldn’t cut it then because I’M FORTY! And I didn’t want it to become my “midlife crisis hairdo,” so I immediately came to the conclusion that forty and forty-five were off-limits for cutting my hair. Both of those ages seemed to be the stereotypical midlife crisis ages. With that line of thinking, I knew forty-two was the right age for me to get out of my hair rut. So, I kicked the midlife crisis can down the road.
Forty-two really is a good age, you’re no longer uncomfortable with facing the fourth decade of your life, it’s a confident age, a comfortable time and still closer to forty than forty-five. Whew. Well, I am anxiously seven months into my “comfortable age” and my hair has not changed. Until now.
My almost twelve inches will again go to Locks of Love and I figured if Jared Leto could do it, so could I.
I had an odd dream last night and I can’t stop thinking about it. I have always been interested in the meaning of dreams, but this one has imprisoned my natural ability to dismiss the random thoughts in my head.
In my dream, I was with a group of people, both men and women, in a parking garage. We all had met there, in separate vehicles and we were going to turn ourselves in to the police. I don’t know what crime we committed, but there were only two people I distinctly remember being in the group. The first was my cousin Miguel Gonzales (who I grew up with and he has always been my partner in crime, so to speak) and the second was a friend and DJ I worked with in the past, Dave Decibel (when we worked together, we did work across the street from the jail and we did have to park in a parking garage). I haven’t seen either of these men in months, but guess if I were going to go to jail these were the people my unconscious mind thought were the obvious choices to accompany me. Sorry guys.
This is one of the things I found on-line about jail dreams:
“Your dream may have associated jail with dodgy people. Do you fear someone who is dodgy looking? Are you trying to avoid someone who is untrustworthy and you suspect of crime? If so then your dream depicts this dislike of dodgy looking people and your continuing wish to keep clear of them. Alternatively you may fear you are becoming dodgy yourself and that others do not fully trust you.” http://www.dreamsymbolism.info/dreamdictionary/jail-dreams.php
Now, I don’t think either of the aforementioned companions are “dodgy” or dodgy looking, and I don’t think I am becoming dodgy either, but who knows. The other weird thing is, we never went to jail. Instead we all decided not to turn ourselves in and just hung out there. We were a big group of fugitives, running from the law, in and around a big dark parking garage. Huh?!?
Is there anyone who can help me? I am feeling overly constrained by this.