This is how I was feeling a few days ago:
I don’t know what happened to the day.
It started out one way and ended another.
Today was fine up until the almost end of it.
Where were my clouds?
Even the mountain was suffocating under the deep layer of haze.
I had jotted these small scraps down and let it go. Then I opened my Pages program on my Ipad, which is the equivalent of Word. I had completely forgotten that I wrote that. I do remember the day. I wanted to capture it here—to add to my time capsule.
That has passed.
Yesterday when I woke up I wouldn’t have envisioned myself sitting in a hair stylist’s chair to have my hair cut short again. But as I started writing and feeling that light feeling yesterday, and thinking of getting ready for work, I realized that growing my hair out was not going to be possible because I don’t like standing with a blow dryer in my hand long enough to dry it, and with the cold weather, this would pose a slight problem for me. I decided to go back to the hairstylist that I went to before, since she knows my hair and she’s nice. I brought a few photos of pixie cuts because she’s a visual person and she is very good at replicating a haircut—at least that has been my experience so far. I was lucky that she had a cancellation when I called. I have a tendency to hope that I can get an appointment the same day I call. I always like my profile photo to reflect my current self, so chances are, I will be updating it soon.
An interesting tidbit that I learned from her is that she had attended a Vidal Sassoon class a few month’s back and said she now felt very confident with the pixie cut. I told her that she seemed quite comfortable when she had cut my hair before, yet in my mind, there was one time, she didn’t get the sides right and it was poofing out. I didn’t remind her of this, of course. She conceded that she was not as comfortable as she came across. I told her I was glad that she now felt more confident. And she did a great job on my hair, just like the photo I took in as a guide.
With my freshly trimmed hair, I’ve gotten the bug to clean out my closets and donate some unwanted clothing. The thing about super short hair, for me anyway, is that it doesn’t seem to pair well on a petite figure with baggy clothes. I have to compensate for the fact that some bit of my femininity is tied to my longer hair and baggy tops that hang drearily on me, seem to make me look more boyish. Hair. What a funny preoccupation it can be! It is such a defining characteristic.
What else? I felt so inspired on Thursday that I cooked pot roast. It was the perfect day for a cold and rainy night.
I’ve been remembering my dreams and jotting snippets down in my journal.
When I was enjoying an unhealthy breakfast at McDonald’s the other morning, I shared with a couple of crows that kindly asked for a morsel. It was a cold day, but I decided to sit at an outside table just the same. In the warmer months I have sat outside and enjoyed the crows that visit the tree outside on a regular basis. I threw a piece of my English muffin to one crow and then saw the other crow in the background and tossed him a piece. I noticed that the second crow had a bad foot. It looked as though it was actually missing and he hopped on one foot. Poor dear. He was in good shape otherwise, except for a feather out of place. He had a hearty appetite. After the first crow finished, he looked up at me and opened his beak as if to say, “more please.” And I gladly gave him another taste and threw a piece to the other crow that was keeping a distance. That was a nice way to start the day.
My significant other took me to see The Lion King at The Orpheum Theater. I admit that I had my doubts. Even though I love music and enjoyed the Disney movie, musicals are not my favorites. However, to my great surprise, The Lion King took my breath away many times over throughout the play. It was the most beautiful, stunning, creative, heartfelt performance, with set designs and costumes that left my visual senses simply in awe. I absolutely loved it!