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Hair Band Hair

The funniest text I've ever gotten was from my mechanic asking if everything was okay. He hadn't seen me in awhile. I guess my cars really are that crappy.


 

Image from ultimatecowbell.com

Listening to Love Bites by Def Leppard on loop on a sunny, otherwise happy, Saturday morning is a quick trip to tears. Such a good song.


The other song on loop was Sweet Child o' Mine by Guns n' Roses. Another quick trip to tears. I love my children so much.


Maybe I feel a special connection to hair band songs because I have my own hair band hair. I don't try to. It just does it all by itself. And I've learned it's a losing battle to try to make it do anything but be hair band hair.


 

I've been taking dance lessons since last October. If I didn't have to make a living, I would live at the studio and dance the day away.


It's forcing me to slow down the thought processes that have become second nature to me--the ones that are always pushing me forward and out and fast and on to the next thing. I've always felt a bit like a steam engine that's just going all the time; so much of my life has made that skill necessary. A survival skill if you will.


But that's not who I want to be all the time. There's a place for the steam engine side of me, and there's a place for letting go of rigid control and just feeling and enjoying the present, and ballroom dancing is teaching me just that.


And now this hair band hair and I are going to IKEA for a few pieces I need at the house. Plus, it's a sunny day--great day for a drive and listening to more Def Leppard.



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