Torrential Rain: I've Got Purple Hair, Man, I've Got Purple Hair

Now, if you recognize the rhythm of the title, you might be thinking one of two things. The oft-recorded I've Been Everywhere, which has been done by many artists on multiple continents (originally Australia, actually), is a pretty catchy tune. Then there's the comedy duo MacLean & MacLean, a name familiar to many Canadians as they were home grown. They had a lovely rendition called, I've Seen Pubic Hair, which was an instant classic...for Canadians in the boonies anyway. We're a little strange out in the woods.

Of course, neither song actually applies. They just got stuck in my head when I said I had purple hair. The pubic hair one is particularly disconcerting at the moment.

Okay, so maybe it's not quite purple, but more of a burgundy, but it livens the spirits anyway. When next I can afford to be frivolous with funds, I'm reaching for a few pots of Manic Panic by Tish & Snooky. No animal testing, really wild colours. My kind of product. Not sure what shade I'll go with first, but it's all temporary fun, so it doesn't really matter.

No, I don't care that I'm forty-one years old. It's not like I'm a cougar or anything. Far from it. I've done all the responsible crap in life that needed to be done once I decided to have a kid. She's an adult now, and I'm finally getting a chance to act like a kid, so I'll do what I want. So, nah.

Infantile, I know. I've always been a little wild, and occasionally a lot wild. Then there were the times that I was downright crazy, but I'm still here. Obviously I didn't screw up too badly. I managed to come through my life without ever having seen the inside of a jail cell, much less a prison cell. I've never been finger-printed even. I guess I didn't have as much fun as I thought I'd had. Damn.

I did manage to get myself a tattoo, but that was a lifelong wish and something I took a long time deciding about. I didn't walk in one day and ask for the pretty butterfly or the FTW skull. I thought about it for about ten years actually. As soon as I walked out of the tattoo parlor I wanted another one, which I've never gone back for, and that was about 15 years ago. Of course, I also never regretted the one I have.

It's the ghost of a tiger, by the way, on my upper left arm right at the shoulder. The positioning was intentional. I needed to be able to cover it completely. He had green eyes at one point, but that got lost to the fading enough that you can't really tell. One day I just might post a picture of it, but y'all are gonna be frightened by the vampire-like tones of my skin. Just sayin'. I'm pale blue, as Billy Connolly would say. Must be the Irish and Scottish in me.

I also did myself the disservice of cutting my hair. That was intentional. I wanted messy and choppy. Of course, sadly, it didn't turn out as messy as I'd hoped. I made it all even, damn it. So now, without the Stiff $@#% in my hair, it looks all perfect and prudish. Short, of course, since I didn't have much length to work with in the first place.

Once I use the Stiff $@#%, though, it'll be all messy and funky and spiky. I'll probably look like a twelve-year-old who hasn't slept in a month, but again, I just don't give a $@#%. I will be what is fun for me to be. If you've got any judgments about my weirdness, you probably shouldn't be reading my blog in the first place. Why do you insist on punishing yourself?

It's amazing what a funky hair colour will do for your mood, though. When I think of purple I think of sexual deprivation. Where I grew up everyone said that if you wore the colour purple it meant you were sexually frustrated. Does hair mean the same thing, I wonder? When I looked it up, however, nothing I found said anything of the sort. I do remember romance and erotica being termed 'purple pen', so it stands to reason that the association is there.

Although passion is not quite the same as frustration, now, is it? Believe me, I'm very well acquainted with the differences. They can co-exist, but they're not the same. Passion can lead to either the increase or relieving of frustration. Frustration is nothing but frustrating. It's the , "Oh, God, I'm going to die if I don't get laid soon," feeling. Self-gratification, despite the fact that I'm an advocate and devotee of the practice, can only take a person so far. Okay, the distance is actually the finish line...but, there's no one standing there cheering when the race is over. Where's the fun in that?