My Insistent Bones

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I took my bones for a walk

it was good  and dark and cold

I took my bones for a stroll

by a morgue and an empty tomb

My bones are insisting

they want to be let out

and free to roam on their own.

My bones want to get out

They want to be free to roam

I told them to stay put

but they keep scratching to be let out

I think

they are looking

for a nice new warm  home.

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Horrordailies 2016

Just Fix It Already

Write a new post in response to today’s one-word prompt.

Graceful

 

This morning I got up late, couldn’t decide what to wear, forgot to eat and ran out the door so that  I  could make my appointment on time.

I felt worn out and my new shoes pinched my feet a little and by the time I got to my appointment for my third and probably last hair appointment of the year I felt like this:

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I was ready for a little brightening, for a little magic- for a miracle I guess because as of late I have not felt very bright or magical.

So mask on, fingers crossed and here we go:

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Why did I wait to get this done?

You know, I’ve been writing, enjoying the summer, I just didn’t want to sit in a chair for three hours- which is what it takes when you have long hair, need a cut and color and highlights.

But I sucked it up and went for it because it was time:

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Believe it or not, when we took that plastic thing off of my head and rinsed my freshly cut  hair- and I could see the color and highlights I felt pretty wonderful.  Plus my bangs no longer went passed my nose- I looked like my head was backwards when they fell forward.

I thought it was fun because it was so morbid looking- but you know, to be honest it was seedy looking

I wanted to take to post this selfie on FB but my stylist reminded me we weren’t done yet.

For the most part what you see above is the real magic- but this what comes last is the fun part

Next up- we rocked the cut and color:

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When  I was a kid having long curly hair was something I got teased for- that was back in the 70’s and long straight feathered hair was THE LOOK.

By the time I graduated from highschool  I had cut my hair short- well, OFF and I was glad to see it go. I was so tired of not looking like I fit in, of being such a big ugly slob with big ugly hair.

So what happens a few years later? Yep. Big curly hair was in.

I just can’t seem to hit that fashion target.

My Grandmother Ginger told me that when I woman turns 50 she should cut her hair.

It was ‘dignified’.

When  turned 50 a few years ago I looked like this:

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On the days where I feel like my outside matches up with my insides I feel light, confident, graceful.

How great would it be if I could always feel like that.

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