chasing shadows again











I am in the process of bleaching my hair. The bleach that I normally use is not findable here, so I got bleach from Pop Gothic. High maintenance bleach! First it wants me to mix it, fair enough. I did that before. Then it wants me to apply it – fair enough, to work on hair it should touch hair. Then it wants me to wrap my hair in plastic and blowdry until done! Um…hello…effort? I miss my ‘apply and leave on 90 minutes’ bleach. This states I may have to blowdry my hair for 60 minutes! So…this opening is a break from blow-drying. Which I shall now resume. Back when I get tired of holding a blow dryer again!

And done with that! The dryer blew my darling little plastic turban apart. I’ll let it cool (as ordered) then rinse and shampoo and apply toning conditioner. I definitely need to switch back to my old bleach (though the color this one turned my hair in more like 25 minutes is as promising as the 90 minute time of the other one. Seriously. My old response to hair dye was to do it and hang out with people.

Who wants to come to a hair dying party? We can has hair dyes and daiquiris and maybe even manicures! Most. Fun. Ever. We can even has pre-dying lingerie shopping! Lingerie…finger sandwiches…chocolate…daiquiris…hair dye…. Movies? We could always mock porn. It seems appropriate, somehow.

I can’t wait to move back to where I have the people for that. I miss doing things like that. Immensely.

Off to rinse!

My hair is, in fact, quite pale yellow. It has toner in it, which should be rinsed out soon. Like 10-15 minutes. Meanwhile, picture for you!

The Secret: I miss the people I meet in my dreams.

The Picture:

funny pictures
moar funny pictures

I will admit…my hair is almost white. It is impressive. But…I don’t need white, only pale enough blue dye is more noticable than a highlight. Still…impressive.



It has been weeks of storms. Rain. Wind. Thunder storms, almost unheard of here. Family insanity. One whirlwind of…I don’t even know. Love. Lust. Chemistry. Love was definitely involved. It was a strange razor’s edge dance, that somehow maintained the delicate balance necessary to avoid falling into anything that might be defined.

Aside from the indefinable boy…life here in the land of loud birds has been deathly still or frantic, but never conducive to writing.

I still have nothing really to say.

I hope to start taking belly dancing or doing something. That will help with the whole depression thing that is looming overhead. However…actually doing the things…difficult. I will try to write something more like playful and cute soon. Or get you pictures. Something.



et cetera