virgin suicides

Today, while I was looking through photos of black hair brides and blonde hair brides I couldn't come to terms with my new found blondeness. In fact, I truly miss my dark locks and have a problem holding back my oohs and aahs whenever I see a gorgeous brunette walk past. Davey thinks I have something wrong with me and my indecisiveness has him convinced that I am a true nut case. With that said, I tried to remember what I loved about being a blonde, after all I had been a blonde the first 21 years of my life, it had only been the past 6 years that I had embraced my dark roots. I remembered Sophia Coppola's movie The Virgin Suicides and the strength in numbers the sisters had with their fair hair. I remember watching the film and feeling a kinship with the girls because of our similar tresses and was pretty sure that blondes were superior. This opinion very rarely changed, and it wasn't until 2-3 years into having my hair black that I realized hair color means nothing and that I felt just as beautiful with black hair as I did blonde.

Fast forward to October 2010, loads of 30 volume bleach on my hair, 6 inches of length cut off, and a look that threw me back into newport beach, I felt underwhelmed and emotionally nostalgic for my dark hair. While I was looking at the mirror after the initial blow dry, Nick Cave's 'Black Hair' played in my mind and I thought about all of memories with dark hair and suddenly I began to regret this decision of mine. So here we are week 2 of this mess, and I still can't come to grip with this hair decision. I think about The Virgin Suicides, about Chloe Sevigny and Marianne Faithful, wearing my boots in su-su-sugartown and I really don't know if I am a lifelong member of this elusive club anymore. Pictures of Priscilla Presley in the white wedding gown are all I can think of, and Hey Jupiter is playing in the background... so is it the shower or the bath?

to love is to lose and to lose is to die.

just let it go.

every now and then it seems ok to dive into my life since you don't really know who I am, only that we share a common person. i don't think it is me so much me that you are interested in but rather facing the guilt you must have, or maybe the hatred you feel for me. maybe it was that you were never enough.

looking forward to singing this song.

Well we're movin on up,
To the east side.
To a deluxe apartment in the sky.
Movin on up,
To the east side.
We finally got a piece of the pie.


another dose of bad news today, I did not pass the cset. I am sick and tired of feeling this low. I have been out of a job for almost a year and it doesn't look like anything will change anytime soon. No one gives a rats that I am more than half way through my masters degree, no one gives a damn that I worked full time and finished off my last half of college working 40+hours a week and it seems to me that the more stupid, uneducated and under qualified a person is the more likely they are to find a job these days.

It's hard to stay positive at these times when I am a natural pessimist and I literally live on the pennies thrown to me from unemployment. I don't think I could get a job at mcdonalds if i tried and as sad as it is, my unemployment checks pay me more than a 40 hour work week would at any type of place like that.