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Sleeeeeeepy. Got up early for Arts Advocacy Day at the Capitol. I enjoy living and working in the same district- it makes me feel connected to my neighborhood, and like the things I have to say have weight, somehow. Cheers to Minnesota Citizens for the Arts, they're a great organization and they do a really good job making being involved in your government as non-scary as possible. Really, even though politicians are really (or at least should be) public servants, sometimes it's really intimidating to think about going and talking to them about issues that are important. Maybe not everyone feels this way, but I do. Big, fancy, marble buildings that hold bureaucratic government offices just don't scream *user friendly* even after (hell, especially after) all my time both as student and staff at the UofM. I don't think I'd enjoy being a politician much at all. I can allow myself to feel enormous swaths of relief that their job is not my job.

Tonight- derby. Honestly, I'm glad the season is over soon. Don't get me wrong, I love my Rockits like nobody's business and playing derby is still tons of fun- but I'm feeling burnt out and annoyed that I don't feel more freed up for artistic pursuits. Though I did take on that extra class in the middle of the week, too, so it's not *just* derby. I'm a busy girl. I can't wait to sleep in this weekend. Boy, howdy. But then, I could be sleeping instead of updating, but instead of putting on jammies and taking out contacts, I sit and type like a zombie because it takes less effort to do that than getting up, going down the stairs, finding the eye juice and the toothpaste, blahblahblah. Yep, I'm lame! Not lame. Just sleepy. Ever so sleepy.

Apartment crap looms on the brain, and I'm starting to understand this odd psychological vortex nixon spoke of that is the craigslist. I mean, I knew it was there and what it was and everything, but it wasn't somewhere I visited constantly, hoping in vain for more posts reload after reload. I though lj was good enough for that shit, man.

dreams and mall bangs

Remembered bits and pieces of dreams again. My rich grade school "best friend" who lived down the street who always made me feel less cool than she was made an appearance. I hadn't even thought about her in years. We drifted apart later in junior high or so when she still cared more about things like brand name jeans and hair products and I was still an unapologetic band geek and started discovering computers and punk rock and 'zines and stuff. I was surprised but not surprised at the same time when she came (for real, not dreamland) into my high school health class and talked to us all about how long she'd struggled with bulemia. I didn't appreciate how hard that might have been for her at the time. Anyway. I don't really remember the context of her in my dream, except that I wasn't happy with her for something, she may have tried to steal my boyfriend or something.

Also in dreamland, I remember distinctly hugging alisgray, which was nice. I also think gunn showed up with her new haircut and we all cooed over it. I have yet to do that in the waking world and look forward to it- except that it might increase my latent desires to chop my dreads off in favor of a short spikey haircut. I have kind of a love/hate relationship with the dreads by now, and occassionally think I'm with them just 'cause I've been with them so long and we're an established couple and not because we really belong together. But I also haven't spent much quality time with them lately. It's not you, baby, it's me...

This kind of dovetails into my thoughts last night on the term "product". When the hell did hairspray and gel and mousse all get mashed together into the nondescriptive amalgam "product"? "I need more product for my hair." What, is your hair an exporting nation, now? Is this Aveda's fault for creating stuff that people don't know how to keep track of without being uncomfortably familiar with their various crap, like those hair stick things that make it look like you're putting deoderant on your head? I mean, really. One of the main reasons I like dreads is because I don't have to deal with that shit on a daily basis if I don't want to- gimme some little binders and an hour every other month or so and we're great.

I still like my dreads and I fear change, but a close third in the reasons why I haven't changed my hairstyle all that significantly since 2001 is a wish to not be a slave to any sort of "product".

Maybe this is why my 6th grade rich bitch insecurity-inducing former "best friend" showed up in my dream- Sixth grade was when I used up my earthly allotment of "product" trying to make my bangs stand up like the rest of the popular girls, and I was constantly insecure about their relative height, look, and structural composition. I'm reeeeaaally glad I grew out of that, and don't really care to return to anything near that again.

Interesting. Or not.

Is it 5:00 yet?