crucible of ennui

I’m cutting my hair tomorrow. I decided at the beginning of this year that I would grow it out one year and then get it cut, maybe even have 10 inches cut off to donate to Locks of Love, a place that makes wigs for children that loose their hair due to medical treatments for cancer, disease.

Hair cutting for women is different than when men get a cut. For women, hair conveys a vast array of messages.

Forced hair cutting in medieval times was done to shame a woman. Cutting and tearing hair are signs of grief in many cultures. Sometimes hair is hidden due to its many sexual overtones.

My favorite hair cutting story has to be a friend of mine, who in a blind misguided rage took scissors to her own hair. She had been arguing with her husband, went into the bathroom and emerged with horribly short hair. She was so angry that she wanted to make a drastic statement.

Wow. That’s some statement there, missy.

If I had more courage and knew I was going to get it cut short and styled… I’d totally try cutting my own hair. How bad could it be?!??!?

I hate zombies. Hate them. Some people have a thing against clowns. Some folks – it’s dolls and ventriloquist dummies. For me it’s zombies.

So I’m at the bookstore the other day and I see a copy of The Zombie Survival Guide by Max Brooks, the son of movie great-Mel Brooks. How could I resist? A manual that outlines what steps I can take to protect me and my own from a massive zombie breakout. Let me just say that this book is well written, hysterical and full of helpful hints that make all the sense in the world once explained. “Keep your hair short”, “2nd floor buildings are the best protection”, modes of practical transportation and how to travel through infested areas. It really is Complete Protection from the Living Dead.

I think my fear all started with a recurring zombie nightmare that started in my late teens. The theme would always be the same. But the first nightmare was the most horrific…

I am running through a graveyard, complete with requisite fog on the ground and above ground headstones, weatherworn and crumbled by time. As I’m running, hands break up through the ground, grabbing for my feet as I run over. It’s not long before the zombies are above ground, giving chase through the cemetery. I start to run slower and slower until the rhythm of my feet on the ground provide the tempo for “American Woman” by the Guess Who to start. And as I’m running away from the zombies with “American Woman” in my head, the hammering of my heart always wakes me up at this point.

To this day I can’t hear that song without feeling something bad is about to happen.

My focus for the upcoming year will be reinvention. It’s a milestone year – not for any superficial reasons. But the feeling that this year will be different. For Glenn. For myself. For Catherine – she will have so much to learn and experience.

Reinvention. How can I apply this concept in my own life to generate the most possibilities? I need to look at my career/job. I need to focus on getting my company off the ground. I need to be able to spend as much time as possible with my daughter. I need to win the lottery. I need to mastermind a plan to take over the world and it’s rich supply of chocolate.

Oh yes… it will all come together this year.

My heart goes out to all the people, families and communities devastated by the earthquake-generated tsunamis that have hit may coastal areas across the Pacific. The stories are horrific.

Today I’m wearing a cozy mocha brown velour track suit.

I either look like a displaced bear or a fat J-Lo.

O’ the bitter truth.

Besides uploading photos of the baby – I could probably upload the photos we took while we were in Japan, Hawaii and other points o’ interest.

As much as I think Catherine is adorable, I need to get more stuff online.

It’s that time of year when agents send in all kinds of goodies to corporate. We’ve been feasting/grazing for the past two weeks.

Today I’m enjoying a bag of jalepeno popcorn.

Muy tasty.

I’m not going to share.

These are the photos from our early Christmas. And some shots G. took yesterday of her.

Not much else going on. Still waiting for any news about work. We’ll just have to wait until after the first of the year I think. Same for G. on his interview too!

Catherine got her first tooth. If you hold her head just so and pry her mouth open you can see it, although she’s usually pissed off at this point.

She’ll stand in your lap, with her hands on either side of your face… you know, like she’s playing with your ears, nose, mouth, whatever. And she’ll look at you all cute and innocent… then WHAM! She grabs your ears/hair/cheeks, pulls your toward her gaping little mouth and goes after your nose. She will chomp you. Bad. So bad that tears will come to your eyes. Blood drawing kinda bad.

Defenseless my ass.

You know how smell triggers memories? Today in the elevator at work I was standing next to a high level executive type who smelled EXACTLY like my grandfather.

It was all I could do to keep from throwing my arms around him and shouting, “Papa, Papa!!”

Outside of the whole grandfather memory, I love men who smell of yummy cologne. It makes me want to snuggle up next to them on a couch, eat popcorn and watch old Star Trek reruns.

Apparently if you get a whiff of some guy who smells fabulous it’s just not cool to go over and bury your nose in his neck. Who knew?

That’s considered assault in some states.