The kind of place where the stylists have blue hair, bangs, piercings and at least one sleeve of tattoos.
I loved my hair when I had bangs.
I haven't had bangs in years (and the large forehead comments are making me wish I had them - as a shield, a curtain). The Mr. doesn't like them. I left him in wonderment and terror this morning as I said "I'm getting my hair cut. How bangin' the bangs are is up to you."
Haha, he hates bangs so much.
I may not get them.
I may get them.
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In other news, I had a nightmare last night.
A man (a'la human centipede scientist) was a cannibal who kidnapped my mom, brother, sister and me. We were texting my dad things about our location in hopes that he could find us. The scientist somehow didn't think to take our cell phones.
As a sort of initiation (oh yeah, this dude had a gang of cannibals he controlled) the scientist would eat a major muscle off of anyone who would join him. Otherwise, he'd just eat you. Alive.
As a part time dream interpreter I judge that this, cannibalism aside, means I am hyper-focused on my nuclear family.
The cannibalism and texting I blame on watching graphic, interactive TV like the Veep debates last night.
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In other, other news, I played with makeup last night in an attempt to make myself feel better about a stressful day.
I also had pickles and snacks for dinner. That did make me feel better.
Song Suggestion: Ignorance by Paramore
