....tell me how, baby...

....for a night, you took me by surprise...

Restlessness makes for fickle tastes. I'm excited about dyeing my hair tonight for two reasons: (1) it'll be hella cheaper than paying for my usual hairstylist to do it, and (2) it's a change. I'm ready, hungry for change: ready for the seasons to change, ready for my hair to change (I've decided to grow it out), ready for different things.

My brother's wedding is next weekend; after he gets married, I can go get my orbital piercing and start seriously pondering tattoos. For our anniversary, the husband and I have decided to get coordinating tattoos. I'm having second thoughts about it because the tats we've picked are rather large; I keep telling myself we don't have to go full-size with them, and I hope the husband agrees. One of the reasons I haven't gotten a tattoo before now is that I've had a hard time committing myself to something so permanent. Piercings heal up - not that I plan to get rid of any of my 12 ear piercings any time soon. I'd love to get a lip piercing or a nose stud, but I think the fam would really freak. Not that I care what they think, per se: I just prefer not to flaunt my tastes in their faces, know what I mean? I'm not ashamed; I just respect my family and their beliefs and personal opinions.

As soon as the wedding is over, too, I plan to do something drastic with my hair color, too. Not sure what yet, but I need to; something dramatic must be done - I need the change desperately. Autumn is yet weeks away, and I don't think my soul can wait that long for a dramatic change. I must affect such a change.

...that is why I woke and cried out...