dry

I'm using this dry shampoo today. I feel suspicious about dry shampoo just as I do about dry cleaning. As Jerry Seinfeld says, "The problem with dry cleaning is that we all believe that this is actually happening."

According to my new hair stylist I have basically spent my life abusing my hair between washing it everyday, using Tresemmé products since college, braiding it when wet and probably proving remiss in my duty to educate it culturally. So I'm trying to make up for lost time. (And bad parenting?)

But I miss the fresh scalp feeling... I cannot deny that my hair looks better but at what cost to my fragile psyche?

It's only day two...

Can you say #firstworldproblems ?

How often do you wash your hair? Do you use and like dry shampoo? If it wasn't obvious yet I'll point out that I'm not exactly into hair... Educate me.

rinse & repeat

That foolish trickster Hope.

He lures from around the corner. Enticing with baubles tied to a string

You want happiness don't you? Look how sparkly it is? Come and get it.

Held in the hand happiness is warm like a kitten. You cover it to keep it safe. To prolong it's life.

Memorizing street names and stories. Faces become familiar. Hope cracked the casing around my heart and months of root growth left me feeling strong. Roots will help you stand against the Wind.

But not tornadoes.

I see why people chase the baubles. I didn't know life could feel good. I thought that was a rumor.

But patterns are called patterns because they do not change.

3 steps forward. 15 steps back, Thrown back, head cracking against the wall.

Remember;

Pass by the pills. Don't look the bottles in the eye. Not everything has to be the same as it was before.

pants free

Sometimes you just can't be bothered to put pants on. Is pantslessness really as terrible as we act like it is? So indecent? So offensive? We all have a body, most of our bodies look pretty similar. We have the same parts.

I'm feeling lazy today - just let me check my mailbox judgement free; pants free.

a night with the shins

Wearing yoga pants we got in the car and I drove barefoot. Destination; fireworks. A last minute decision. Marty McFly in the back of our minds soon swept aside by The Shins. Through open windows the night sucked away the lyrics so fast that they barely had time to kiss our ears. No one else was kissing us anyway.

We didn't talk.

Together we were holiday orphans. No hot dogs, sparklers, potato salad or outings requiring coolers. But we had our sense of humor. And some wine. Oklahoma isn't somewhere you really want to be in July but if your blonde best friend is in the passenger seat and you drive fast enough either the heat won't catch up or you just won't notice it.

We missed the fireworks so our purpose defaulted proverbially from the destination to the journey. The word journey conjures up a purpose but we were gypsies. I've often felt like a gypsy. Is it really so terrible not to belong somewhere specific? I prefer belonging to people instead of places.

pink shoulders & fish tacos

With the pink shoulders of a baby strawberry I reflect on an impromptu lunch in the sun. Small, soft tortillas heaped with bright lettuce, crispy bits of fish wink at you cheekily. I bet you can't wait to taste me.

Throwback music in the air and conversation with a throwback friend. Could the essence of happiness be distilled from moments like these? To be bottled up and sprinkled over gatherings not quite as lovely as ours? 

Trestle tables shared with strangers can bring new friends or the closer intimacy of two people together in a crowd. 

Watch. Listen. Taste. Talk.

A perfect Wednesday afternoon in a perfect place at the perfect time.

epidemic

How many broken hearts have you swept off the floor tonight?

The emotionally single moms, the mental widows with holes in their chests.

Their bodies are here but the souls are trying to escape.

Dissociation.

How many pills would it take? 

How long can I hold my breath?

Just a flick of the steering wheel in the right direction and I won't have to face him ever again.

Why do they lash themselves to us with no intention of love?

1, 2, 3, 4 - I could name half a dozen more.

What is this epidemic?

a saturday morning

Bits of dream still stick to my eyelids
While sun and shadow dapple homemade quilts.
Little paws demand attention
My commitment to unconsciousness wilts.

There's a lemon glow from my eastward window
Avian sun worshipers begin their daily chants.
Hardbacks, paperbacks are splayed to present points
Pull on those worn, plaid pajama pants.