Hot Pink and Happy

So I decided to try cutting my own hair. This thought occurred to me post two glasses of Trader Joe’s viognier. I don’t know why, when I have such vivid memories of the last time I tried mixing home hair stylin’ with liquor. “Flamingo head” comes to mind.

But, I did it. And it was actually really good after the first cut. And then I went back for a second and it got a little bit better. Or at least didn’t get worse. Then I went back for a third time.

When I was thirteen, and my parents were just starting to go out to dinner without getting a babysitter, I decided to pluck my own eyebrows. My mom called to check in and, when I told her what I was doing, she said “Put those tweezers down right now. Promise. Promise me.” I did. Promise, that is.

But I didn’t put them down.

Sometimes I just can’t stop myself. Like that night, when I ended up with a single line of hairs marching across my forehead, and like when M and I aren't seeing eye to eye and I have to make just one more comment, and like last night when my hair took a slightly lopsided turn.

But, it's not so bad. The hair, I mean. At least, it's not bad enough to keep me from cutting the Fox’s hair for the first time today...

Have I mentioned that we’ve been thinking about painting our house? Maybe a hot, rose-red-pink color. But we’ve finally attained a decent balance and I don’t want to get into crazy project mode. (Even if the project is, in fact, crazy.) So we are going to do it one side of the house at a time. It might not look that great right away, but it will be heading in the right direction and we will comfort ourselves with that.

This is another way of leaving the Perfect Room. This is another way of living a real life, not living up to the imaginary one which only leaves me pissed off and scared and unable to take creative risks on pink houses or writing or frogs in the city or raising the Fox with art and verve. All of which I am still trying to do. although with a somewhat fluctuating rate of success

So, I cut the Fox's hair while M ran up to the movie store. No wine this time. I managed to get the bangs out of his eyes and trim a side... and then the boy was done. I guess it’s going to be like the house. One side at a time. Which I guess is like life. Not the made-for-tv life, but the real life, where I'm learning to hold my tongue when it helps and get out the bright colors and scissors even when it doesn't. The life that is hot pink and lopsided and happy, which is how I am feeling right now.

Thanks to flickr user Degilbo for "50 Pink Smiggle Scissors."