I come home and my sister says “You just couldn’t resist could you?”
Nope.
Blue Highlighted Hippie Chick is back. Under the deft hands of my new favorite solo-business woman, I once again have purpley-blue peekabolites.
Intentional enjoyment accomplished.
Going blue
I’d say it is a social experiment. I’d say it is a quarter-life crisis. I’d say it is just a phase. It is probably all three plus a healthy dose of joie de vivre.
It is a celebration that it is my head and my choice what to put there. I otherwise have long, straight, brown boring locks. I’d rather spice it up a little. Why in earth’s blue orbit not?!
I don’t have a corporate job to worry about. I’m not interested impressing anyone who would be put off by it. And damn it, the touches of blue make me smile when I look in the mirror.
It is fun bordering on effing awesome (like arms full of tattoos but with less permanence). What IS effing awesome is that I can do it – be in the persona of the blue haired freak — until it stops being fun. Then I can do something else.
