I have, of late, been craving change.
I suppose I should apologize to those of you who just spit your beverages all over your computer keyboards. Obviously, I'm not often a girl who goes for lots of new and different wild adventures. But every so often -- when Mercury is in retrograde? -- I suddenly need things to be...different.
These periods have cropped up infrequently, but consistently, in my life. The last one was in spring of 2004, when I jumped at the admittedly tangential rationale that Jim moving to Portland was a great reason to leave my full-time hellhole of an office job and head to Maine.
I'd say that change worked out pretty well, by the way. Just my opinion.
Anyway, the feeling is back. Maybe it's because we have four weddings to attend this year -- and that's just counting the ones we know about so far. Perhaps it's because we're going to spend eight days in Paris, the City of Chic, er, Light. Regardless, this spring, the desire has led to me chopping my hair (chin length) and updating my wardrobe (colors! I have shoes and a cardigan in a pale lime-y green now!). I'm still feeling the urge for more new-ness, particularly in the sense of new me.
And that urge is manifesting as an overwhelming lust. It's a primal need, an estrogen-activated desire that cannot be ignored.
If you have an opinion, speak now or forever shut it. One more week, and then I'm turning the bathroom into my personal salon, and coming out with whatever new highlighted haircolor suits my feminine fancy.