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10:44 a.m. - 2010-07-26
Up, Up, and Away!

I enjoy being uppy. At least this level of uppy, there's been a few times my uppy has gone so manic I went out of my gourd and either: spent way too much, ate far too much, alienated all of my friends, did something wickedly dumb to my hair and/or all of the above and more. But then again I've done those things when normal or deeply depressed too, so whatev. I am grateful I've never gone so uppy I've come out of it with a new identity in a new town or married someone I picked up at a biker bar or painted my house (instead of my hair) pink. Meh. My downs can go as deep as suicidal ebony, but the uppy seems to have a threshold within the technically sane range. Good deal. While it lasts I'll just enjoy how good everything smells and tastes and get a hella lot of house chores done.

Must be kind of boring to be even-keeled all the time. Then again, without the steady ones keeping an eye on things the dipsy-doodle types would probably foul the environment, smash the economy, nullify the Constitution, run a 'news' network so full of hateful propaganda that the Soviet Union's Pravda looked fair and unbiased, start quagmire wars in a couple of countries and build up a zillion gajillion trillion dollar national debt.

Oh wait. That has happened. Hey, don't look at me, I was here innocently dyeing my hair funny colors.

Speaking of which, it's time for another brash color job, but am undecided as to exactly what color. It has been many colors over the years, some of them even colors that occur in nature! (I know, right?) Though these days if I do a crayon color it tends to be in the pink/purple family. It's as close as I can get to red without making my head with its fat round choleric face look like an enormous beet. Also by sticking with pinks I run less risk of clashing with my clothes. My wardrobe has all the variety of a box of Good-n-Plenty: black, white, pink, more black, more pink, more white, even more black… I own exactly 3 pieces of clothing which aren't those colors- 2 blue t-shirts and an aqua sun dress tie-dyed with purple ripples.

In all honesty I'll likely just dither about it until the urge passes off and muddle along with it in its current incarnation- brutally short with whitey-yellow tips and brown roots. I got silly with the clippers on Saturday and raked it down to less than half an inch long. See what I mean about whimsy grooming when I'm uppy? Thank goodness the real world repercussions are minimal. Imagine if I were a surgeon or something.

"Mrs Turnblad, this is Dr Sage, she'll be performing your heart-lung transplant tomorrow."
"HER?!?!?!?! Jesus God in Heaven, her hair is electric raspberry! Are you out of your mind? I'm not letting that weirdo anywhere near me with a scalpel!"
"Really, Mrs Turnblad, Dr Sage is a world-class surgeon."
"Fuck you! Bring me somebody who knows what color hair is supposed to be! Not this nutball with the fuchsia hairdo!"
"Mrs Turnblad! Calm yourself!"
BEEEEEEEEEEEP!!!!
"She's crashing! Get the cart! STAT! Code Blue! Code Blue! Mrs Turnblad's gone into v-fib!"
BEEEEeeeeeeep. (Silence, then..) Ooooooooooooo…
"She's gone. Dammit, Dr Sage! You killed another one! Do something with that damn hair of yours before this hospital goes bankrupt!"

Let's all be glad I'm a writer and not a doctor, eh?


Buzzing off now to clean my entire house in 45 minutes. ~LA the Uppy


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