Tuesday, August 27, 2013

Evolving hair

It started off blurple.

Some of it started to fade to purpley pink.

Eventually, it was all sort of pinkish lavender.

This is not my hair, but it was really pretty, and the colors blended.

It was only the top bits of hair that went solidly pink, the underbits were decidedly purple.

You can see the purple underbits- and this is one of the best photos ever taken of me at work.

At this point, I started to refer to it as "yellowish purple," which should be technically impossible. 
And then solidly peach with lavender bits.

When I bleached my roots, I got a baby blue streak.  Don't know how that happened.

How long can I keep the purple this time?  Who knows?  Might be time to switch to Pravana....

Sunday, August 4, 2013

Working on a Sunday after a deep sort of realization

I worked all day today.  Not "poor-work-life-balance" work, actually scheduled staff time.  I had docents at the front desk all day, so I spent my time feverishly trying to get something in order for my last week of summer camp.  I feel vaguely ready, but I'm still going to try to get to work at 6:30 tomorrow morning.  I like a good panic adrenaline surge.  It's better than coffee.

Working on a Sunday is surreal for me.  I forget that everyone else had a weekend, and I forget that I have to go in again tomorrow.  My usual Monday dread is already half-used.  I am doing everything in my power not to work any more today.  It is difficult.

I put putty in the holes in the concrete in my den, so that I might begin papering the floor sooner rather than later.

I can hear the rats chewing on their cage.  Stop it, assholes, you're undermining the corner that supports the wheel.  Boris, you love the wheel.  Don't sabotage your wheel.

I'm pretty sure I ate some bad sour cream today, and possibly a bad green onion.  I am waiting to see if it has affected me.

I feel so very odd.  Saying out loud that I feel like I have been a ghost since 1996 feels very much like getting my ADD diagnosis.  It's a weird mix of relief and anger and crushing sadness.  I am relieved that there might be a source of my malaise, but I am angry that it took me this long to figure it out.  I am deeply sad for all the versions of me that never got a chance to emerge.  What might have been, and all that.

I am also scared, because now I have to DO something about it.  I can't keep trudging along, knowing what I know, but I also can't allow myself to completely disengage from my job.  Like it or not, my job does require that I keep my head in the game.  I just need to make sure it only stays in the game during business hours.  I need access to more of... me.

Tomorrow I will child-wrangle, and prep for Tuesday's child-wrangling, and deal with home responsibilities, and go paint people to look like famous artwork.  Tuesday I will repeat.  Wednesday I will repeat.  Thursday I will go to the beach with a flock of children to pick up trash, and paint people.


Friday I will not go to work, because I worked today.

Friday I will try to find a path from the place I am now to the place I should have been the whole time.

Friday, August 2, 2013


I am feeling rather sad today.  Maybe not sad... I'm not sure what the emotion is, really, nor can I pinpoint the cause.

Camp is happening.  I freely admit I don't like camp.  I accept that it is part of my job, and that it is useful for the campers, but I truly do not enjoy it.  It takes almost all of my mental energy to figure out what to do to entertain and occupy children for 4 hours a day, four days a week, nine to eleven weeks a year.  Part of it is that I don't really remember being a child, and what I do remember enjoying was, well, weird.  I have, and always have had, odd interests.  I didn't understand what makes other people tick then, and I don't understand it now.

Camp is also exhausting socially.  I'm a pretty hardcore introvert, and interacting with people (even young people) drains my energy.  I find regular school-year programs to be less exhausting, because they're less like a social interaction, and more like a performance.  In two hours, they usually can't figure out how to press my buttons, and there's usually a teacher or parent there to keep the misbehavior in check.  It is rare that I have a school group that can drain me like campers do.

The fact that I do Pageant doesn't help things, as it's another demand on social energy and time, but I really do love it.  I am good at it, I enjoy being involved in a theater atmosphere, and it is something of a creative outlet.  It is the one thing in the summer that I look forward to doing.  It helps offset my camp dread.

I should never have given up theater.  If I could go back in time and smack 17-year-old-me, I would.  I loved it.  I loved performing, I loved backstage work, I loved all of it, but I was convinced that I needed a sensible job and a sensible major and that theater was just too impractical for further study.  Hotel management?  HAH.  As if there were something I was LESS suited to!  I got three years into it before I realized how much I hated it.  Parks and Rec management was my desperate attempt to graduate with something....ANYTHING.  Ending up in the environmental ed field was equally as accidental.  Work has consumed my life, and I still barely make ends meet.  Hell, it took me 10 years to get health benefits, and I still coast into payday on fumes.

Today we had a staff meeting.  We discussed something that would require a theatrical bent, and I felt such an unexpected whirl of glee.  I felt hopeful.  I felt excited.  And it would have to be done by next Friday.  It's a Pageant week, and a camp week.  I can't do it.  I would have loved to steer this project, but I just don't have the time or energy.  Camp eats 90% of my brain and waking hours, and Pageant gets the other 10%.  I had to decline.  It broke my heart to do so.

Maybe I'm feeling regret.  I try not to regret anything, but I think this is regret.  It is a deep, pressing sort of feeling, a silent-tear feeling.  I had something I loved, a passion, and I abandoned it out of fear.  I have been a ghost for almost half a lifetime.

What have I done?