Friday, June 22, 2012


The transient nature of my hair color has revealed to me a personal paradox.

Rather than keep you in suspense, I'l lay it on the line: I am both terrified of and completely open to CHANGE.

I want everything to stay the same. This is MY world, DAMMIT. It's how I've built it. And world's whims be damned if I'm not gonna remain stalwart at my post!

But nothing ever changes and I am so bored that you know what I need? A CHANGE!

(It's no wonder I drive pretty much everyone I know nuts.)

I want stability. Stability in the home. Stability in work. Stability in relationships.

But the very moment I reach stasis and things are looking good...ennui sets in.


So I shake it up a little bit. By simultaniously changing EVERY SINGLE ASPECT OF MY LIFE.

Moderation? I know it not.


Some envy me. I AM the type of person who can just get fed up with everything and say, "Fuck it. I'm moving to Guam." And then actually do it.

People envy that sort of "courage". So many people I know are stuck. Stuck in a dead end job, a dead end relationship, a dead end dead end of dead ends.


But then there are those that I envy. Those who aren't stuck but who can actually make stasis work.

I watch these people with a proverbial magnifying glass. I study their every move. HOW is it possible that they can go into the same office every day, return to the same four walls every evening, enjoy the company of the same woman or man day in and day baseball!?!?

Same, same, samey, same, same, same.

It has its allure.

I find it appalling.

Because somewhere just below the surface, there is a restlessness in me. It's a restlessness whose origins I cannot account for, but whose presence reverberates in all the actions of my life.

It's the reason I am a voracious reader. The reason I cannot sit still for too long. The reason I get the shakes. The reason I am never satisfied. The reason I cannot commit to anything long-term (except Coke and fruit snacks). The reason I dye my hair.

Because somewhere along the line, the idea of permanence became equated with the idea of cessation of intellectual growth.

And I want to grow like a weed.

I want to see, taste, do, experience everything under this G_d-made sun. From the Acropolis and The Pieta to that box of Clairol Cinnamon Toast Brown 3R, I want to lie on my death bed knowing I've seen, touched and smelled everything my senses have ever longed to sense.

I guess you could say I am a sensual being.

A hedonist.

And at the heart: a weed.