I really did. Most of the week, I have been thinking “Oooh, I want to blog about that” and “Oooh, I want to blog about this” and yet… in the end, the only thing that sticks out is that Halcyon dyed his pubes pink. And not a docile, ooh how soft pink. A screamin’ “I am the pink you seek” kinda pink.
Wouldn’t you love to be that bold? That cocksure? That fearless? That safe in knowing that even if you dye your hair HOT pink, you will still jump out of bed in the morning and throw yourself out in to the day? And maybe even come home and dye your pubes?
I guess in my own way, I do rebellious and wild things. I defy. I DON’T dye my hair. This is not to say that if the occasion called for glow in the dark purple I would hesitate to do it that… but given my job and all that… I just let my hair go grey. It fascinates me. The colors and patterns in my hair could not be gotten from a bottle. My hair shines like liquid silver in the sun.
And yet, each time I visit the salon, they want to brown me and frost me, weave me and blonde me.
So my hair is my fuck you to the “Do this, don’t do that, can’t you read the signs” mentality we face each day.
If you get my point, how do you say HA! SO THERE! to life?