i walked outside this morning to an explosion of lights. the southern sky was aflame with stars. i never seem to notice at night, but in the wee hours of the morning the sky seems so ominous. the beauty is terrifying and terrifyingly beautiful.
every morning “i am not my hair” by india aire plays on my playlist. i have to admit that there are parts of me that would agree with the message within the song. in fact, for a long time i held firm to the belief that my hair is an accessory–like my shoes–since i could change it just as easily. over the past few weeks i’ve realized exactly how much of who i am remains intertwined with the boisterous curls or the straight shiny locks that fall to the middle of my back. while i can not remember what my natural hair color actually is i vividly recall every hair cut (because they do not happen very often) which is usually a result of some seemingly drastic life change…
the day i found out my boyfriend was cheating i took a pair of kitchen shears to my mane and left a path of 10 inch bunches on the cold tile.
i was only 18, summer after my freshman year in college. it was a hard year for me. being away from everything familiar. falling in love…and the resulting heartbreak. realizing for the first time i was not as smart as everyone expected me to be. the frustration heightened as i was submerged in the troubled dynamic of my sister’s marriage. i chopped off my pigtails with some dollar store scissors and tossed them into the bathroom waste basked before showering and going to work at macys.
these are not the only instances, but they are arguably the most drastic. every picture i have of myself my hair is long. it’s like MY signature. it’s time for me to create a new one because that is gone.
loosely defined as mental instability most commonly the repetition of an act with an expectation of varied results. i must then be insane. i keep doing the same thing with a hope that someone else would alter their actions. this really makes no sense. and sensibility i am definitely lacking at the moment. *deep breath* for the last 7 years i’ve basically lived in Central PA. i’ve been here for the birth of my nieces and experienced some interesting events in being here with them. they truly are two little angels who have blessed my life, but they are not mine. i was here when my brother was stabbed, rushed to the hospital and almost died. luckily i was on a stint in florida when the idiot was charged and tried for attempted murder for his own stabbing. there have been moments of great joy, sadness and disappointment balled up into the last 7 years here. every time i think that i am ready to move on something keeps me here. i don’t want to leave feeling like i am running away, but i am not sure how much longer i can handle all of this. the emotional roller coaster that has become my surroundings are taxing and i pay enough to the government already!
maybe i just need a vacation. maybe i need to learn to stop expecting that people don’t act they way that they do. maybe i need to separate myself from all of the chaos. maybe i still enjoy feeling that i’m needed all the while knowing that it takes more out of me than i ever get in return.
maybe i am crazy and if i took some pills it’ll make it all better because i would not care anymore and numbness does seem appealing today.
when i grow up i want to throw dinner parties that rival state dinners. i mean it. i want to have the type of gatherings that everyone wants to be at because the food will be amazing, the drinks every flowing, and you’re never sure who you may run into and spark up a conversation with. i sometimes think that deep down inside i was once nobility (either that or a 1950’s housewife and i prefer the former).
i love to entertain, but it’s more than that. it’s sharing a meal with someone. in our fast paced lives it is akin to stopping time. fully engrossed in the moment you ignore facebook status and twitter updates, silence cell phones and live. i am determined to have as many dinner parties as i can. i will make this promise to my friends (you know who you are…the three people who actually read my blog) that you will never be hungry at my house. i declare that we will dine, brunch, and lunch. i declare that as long as i am in town saturday mornings my door will be open for brunch because i know that it makes me feel a lot better to sop up some pancakes and bacon in real maple syrup after sipping on a bloody mary.
well, i’m off to finish the breakfast i started. i’m a big fan of my cinnamon sugar pancakes!
i shouldn’t have left you without a dope beat to step to
ok, but really it has been quite some time now since i’ve posted anything on my blog. i have news, not grand news, but news.
there it is…all my news (well mostly the important stuff)