Crossroads Tracks

Runaway Train on the Brain

There’s a Soul Asylum song entitled “Runaway Train” which has been in my head lately.  I feel like I’m standing at a very complicated crossroads and I’m preventing switches that need to be made from happening because I’m not where I need to be in order to travel my path. I’m getting closer, but I’m not there yet.

In other news… MrPOSSLQ and I met face-to-face for the first time 10 years ago today. I’m pretty sure neither of us imagined at that point that we would be where we are now doing what we’re doing.

I thought, back in August, that I was going to get to close out a bad chapter of my life and move forward. The State of Minnesota, however, has other ideas about that.  This is something that could, perhaps, linger as unfinished business for the remainder of time.  The Girl’s birthday is this month and she’s recently gotten engaged and some days it takes every bit of restraint I have to not tell her that never getting married would be just fine and that even though most girls her age in the town she lives in have at least 2 kids, that’s not the way her life has to be.  But, I’ve always tried to let her be who she is, without undue influence on my part and so right now I’m just putting all of my mojo into not adding “Granny” to the list of things people call me for at least the next 3 years (and there are zero acceptable derivatives of “Granny” in the equation).

A few weeks ago, I did something I’ve never done. I dyed my hair a colour that is not on the “natural haircolour” spectrum.  It’s the first time in my life I’ve done it. I’ve had Raven Black hair and I’ve had Platinum Blond hair and just about every natural shade in between the two, but I ended up doing a nice, deep purple… well, sortve.  I have a lot of red in my hair naturally so the bleach ended up leaving the bottom third of my hair auburn.  This was after letting the bleach sit on it for nearly 5 hours.  But the dark purple and the auburn actually look cool together.  The thing is, I keep forgetting that I’ve done this and then have to take a minute when I am treated rudely by someone in public (most often someone in the service or retail world, periodically by persons who are more “mature” (I daresay “elderly”)).  This tends to reinforce my reluctance to leave the apartment.  Still, there is a part of me who thinks there is some fun in asserting that I am a grown person and can do what I want with my hair.  I enjoy it (on the rare occasions that I actually look into a mirror) and am in no hurry to go back to something more conformist.

Big project on the horizon. My favorite holiday is coming up. And the train will keep on traveling, whether or not I’m “all aboard”.