Dreadwise: What funny, confusing little buggers. I don't understand how they can look so crazy and unkempt one day, turn magically neat for a week, and then explode in a rage of frizzy madness overnight.
But I can definitely see progress, however sporadic. I went from this a few weeks ago,
I had a big long loose hair at the very beginning that I braided to keep it out of the way. It turned into this lovely whatever,
Here's my koala that chills on my camel-hump dread every once in awhile
Lifewise: I've been riding a ferocious wave of "It's all happening" creative joy and anticipation that keeps crashing into the shore of "Oh yeah, real life and I'm still unemployed and getting broker by the minute," which tends to be a big energy suck. I've been doing some pretty severe projecting of frustrations, mostly onto my boyfriend and my dreads and I think they're all getting sick of me.
Miraculously, strangely, they're both sticking around.
And luckily, in the grand scheme of scheming, I think the highs are going to far outweigh the lows.
First dawn of my first new year with dreadbabies.
Yeah. That is an oreo in a chocolate chip cookies. Yeah it is.
Cheerio GUDUers! Thank you again for this lovely, inspirational place
ONE MORE THING
I had my first instance of dread-related stereotyping yesterday! I was waiting in a presale line for LCD Soundsystem's last show (*weep*). A camera crew was interviewing people on line and he approached me... and asked me about waiting in line for Phish tickets. I was very confused. He repeated, "Phish lines were the worst. I would camp for days." And then I realized. I had been stereotyped as a Phish fan, just because of my hair.