Well, not really. More like brown on brown.
But somehow, changing my blog -- even if it’s just the title/address -- makes me feel a little like I’ve dyed my hair chartreuse. I’m excited for the change, but what will people think?
Suddenly I feel like it’s 9am and I’m standing outside the door to my office, staring at my neon reflection in the window, and I’m nervous. I open the door, hoping the receptionist is in the bathroom and won’t notice as I slip into my cubicle. Deep breath...
“Good morning,” she says as I enter. “You died your hair.”
“Yes! Yes I did!” I say with extreme enthusiasm, as if my enthusiasm for green hair will rub off on everyone around me. When she says nothing, I start to sweat. I don’t want to have to justify what I’ve done, but suddenly the explanations pour from my mouth, unbidden.
“Uh.... well. You see I thought it would be... fun!... to do something a little different. You know? To start fresh,” I say, nodding, because if I nod, perhaps she will nod. Yes, we both agree, right?
“Well, it’s different,” she agrees and turns back to her computer.
Or perhaps the change will go unnoticed -- which I think might be good until I remember that I’m a very insecure woman who needs an IV Drip of Positive Feedback to sustain her.
“Hey, where are those web stats?” a coworker asks, peaking into my cubicle.
“Oh, I’ll have them in a sec!” I say, as if compiling web stats makes me the happiest fucking person on the planet. I figure that if I play HAPPY, then everyone else will be HAPPY, thus making me truly HAPPY and completing the “circle of bliss”, if you will. And if everyone is so Goddamned HAPPY, perhaps no one will notice my
The coworker turns to leave.
“Wait!” I blurt out. She’s about to leave and I have no idea what she thinks about my hair!
“Yea?”
“So, what do you think?” I venture.
“About what?”
“I dyed my hair!”
“You did? Oh, yea,” she says, looking at my bangs. “Why?”
And then I think I should just jump into an icy river, or climb a mountain, or walk through a gang-ridden neighborhood. Because clearly my “fight or flight response” was tuned to WUSS-ASS in my sleep and I’ve lost all sense of priorities.
(Sigh.)
But I digress...
To be honest, I’ve been dissatisfied with my hair... er, my blog... “Domestic Irritation” for some time. Not the content -- the title. When I started D.I., clearly I was irritated and needed a place to vent. But somehow, after spending so many days and words concentrating on my family, something magical happened -- I realized how much I really love them all. The idea of going daily to a place that emphasized my irritation with them just didn’t seem right anymore. It seemed nit-picky and complainy and... negative.
I guess it’s the hippy in me buried under all that punk angst and the repressed middle class white woman. Come on, begged hippy chic, don't send out all that negative energy... So, while I’m not about to start a blog called “Happy Freaking Love Mama”, I’m hoping Cords and Fleece is abstract enough not to limit the content or the attitude, if you know what I mean.
Not to mention, this blog will be less marketing and more me. (Yes, more hippy talk.) But I hated popularity contests in school, so I have no idea what made me think I’d enjoy one now. In other words, for now I'm happy to skip the prom and watch Mystery Science Theater at home with a few friends. Cheers!
However, before I wrap this up, I want to send out a big blogger Thank You to those of you who’ve stuck with me and encouraged me to return. You guys rock me like a hurricane and your words have filled my IV Drip of Positive Feedback to overflowing. (Oh, and I didn't dye my hair -- in case any of you are still a little confused.)
Peace out, dudes.
:)
:)
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Sign me: Old Hippy Blast from the Past.