Sweet summer rain

This week, I have been up and down, thrilled and heartbroken, excited and depressed, back and forth and back and forth (and I swear if you tell me I've been feeling this way because it's that time of the month, I'll slit your fucking throat... in a nice, totally non-hormonal way).  

Going through so many extremes is really quite exhausting. However, my constant... my anchor... has been the rain. Thank god for the rain. I love it. It brings a quiet white noise to the background (and, at work, it falls on the tarps we have and tries so hard to mimic the sound of rain on a tin roof). It brings cool wind, and hides that invasive douche bag of a sun. And standing outside, face raised toward the clouds and feeling that rain somehow manages to cut through the craziness. Lately, life has been about finding my calm. Rain helps so very much with that.

Despite feeling like an emotional bungee cord, my weekend has actually been quite lovely. I went to a party on Friday that was only a half-mile away from my house. I got to meet the neighbors (and their rooster, Abraham, which was hysterical). I managed to fall off of a motorbike, though that isn't saying much because I'm really good at falling in general (and don't worry, we weren't on the street or anything. I was coerced into sitting on it for a picture that may or may not surface one day, and then things happened, and I ended up on the ground laughing my ass off. I walked away with nothing more than a little scrape on my elbow). I also got to sit on an amazing front porch in the wee hours of the morning, which is one of my favorite things lately. I met an adorable pitbull pup that I wanted to snuggle all fucking night. And the people there were all pretty stellar. It was fun.

Last night I had a date type thing. There was fun, entertaining, intelligent company, some stellar scotch (which I was skeptical about at first.... After only really being familiar with Speysides, it was interesting to try out some good, aged Islays), and a beautiful view from a balcony in Atlantic Station. As much fun as I had, however, I'm still a bit unsure as to how comfortable I am with "dating". I feel like I've broken through a lot of personal barriers lately (which is a good thing, absolutely), but I still fear putting myself in a situation that has the potential to cause me as much turmoil as my last romantic endeavor. I think, for now, I'm going to try to take things fairly slow, and give myself a bit more time before falling into anything that even resembles a relationship.

With all the changes going on in my life, I figured I should go ahead and add my own, fun change to the mix. So I dyed my hair.

When I'm forced into change (especially the kind of change I don't agree with, or think is rash or silly, or that has the potential to be emotionally devastating) I find that choosing something about me (and yes, it's usually my hair) and then changing it leaves me with the sense that I have at least some semblance of control over my life. I know it's an illusion, but that awareness doesn't lessen the positivity I get from it. Plus, red is smokin' hot.

And, with all of that, I'm going to go to bed. I wasn't feeling great today, and I'm wondering if it isn't just some weird combination of cramps and sleep deprivation. Regardless, sleep will solve all my problems. Or, rather, that's what I'm currently telling myself.

Here's the new hair, by the way. Red is always so much fun.

It's so damn long. And yes, I grew it myself. 

 

Have a bonus cat, too. That's Jizanthapus, being a dick, undoubtedly. 

Goodnight, lovies.