Ok, so in my dream (don't laugh!) I was this F.B.I. Agent who was looking for this serial killer. The killer was this holocaust survivor who had gone insane and wanted to get even with the nazis, so what he was doing was murdering everyone who had blonde hair and blue eyes in an attempt to stop their siege. So anyway, he was killing like tons of people in this one town, and no one knew it was him. As a matter of fact, our agents were going to him as a source, because we thought that the person who was killing everyone was someone else but he could help us by telling us about the holocaust. Anyways, at the end I found a bunch of the agents from my team all tied up and I had to try to bust him myself while I was waiting for back up and he stabbed me in the leg with scissors and I shot him and then after I shot him, he was like, "You think you can hurt me? I survived the holocaust" and then I got so scared that I woke up and I never got to see how it ended. Of course there was more to it than that, but why waste my mind trying to remember details when I have a skeletal structure? Anyway, I thought that was just kinda creepy.
I'm getting kinda freaked out right now because the veins in the back of my hands are popping out because it's so hot, and also I am having this weird discussion about which is better: rollerblades or rollerskates. I, of course, am a rollerskate type of girl. I can't rollerblade or ice-skate because I have weak ankles, and I don't know, I just like the way skates look. They remind me of the 70's and the Smashing Pumpkins and all of that fun stuff that I never really got to live through. They used to say rollerskates were trashy but ask Melora Creager and she will tell you that rollerblades are the real shoe of Satan.
I want to clean my room but it is so hot I fear if I tried I would faint because I totally do not drink enough water to sustain correct life. I think I should take water and green tea for a while and cleanse out my system, because like so many others of my generation all I do is pollute my body with soda pop and then get pissed off when I have health problems. I want to dye my hair again. It has managed to fade into this unholy mess of light pink, bright pink, orange and gray roots. It's bad. But in order to colour it and make it look ok, I would have to do some kind of permanent and natural colour over this mess, or I would have to bleach it and then do something exciting with the white-blonde result. I'm scared to bleach it though because what if it falls out? It's so jacked from everything I've already done to it. Everyone tells me I should let it grow out but if I liked my natural colour (gray) then I would never have coloured it in the first place.
In actuality, the reason I started to dye it was because I wanted it red like Shirley Manson. It looked ok for a while, but then old Shirley let hers grow out and stopped wearing excessive black eyeliner and we no longer looked anything alike. So after I had to abandon that look, I went bright pink, and then it became trendy a few years after that, and people who didn't know I had been doing pink forever started comparing me to Gwen Stefani and Pink. (So why didn't anyone kick up a fuss when Gwen's hair was light blue, hmmm? That came WAY before pink.)
Now I am forced to do colour combinations or weird hairstyles, because now colour, any colour, is trendy and well-accepted so now I just blend in again. Sort of. I mean sometimes I wear this neon green wig and I don't blend in as much, but I would have opted for a blonde any day. (Wigs for bad hair days are like elves for Keebler)