how old is your soul.

I drive an hour and forty-five minutes to get my haircut. [one way] It's pretty ridiculous.

I'm sure some green environment initiative would hate me if they knew.

I wish I could tell you it was to some trendy / upscale salon where they only offer sparkling water in little glass bottles. And my hair stylist Jacques claps his hands to get his team moving on swirling up the perfect mixture of mid to late 20's appropriate, beachy caramel blonde, but it totally isn't like that. Don't get me wrong, I love my hairstylist [obviously] but I'm sure I could find someone closer who I also loved and who knew how to handle my completely boring, stick straight, two tone highlight hair.

Every seven weeks or so, I complain to Brent about not wanting to have to make the drive there and back after already sitting for so many hours at work. On a night like tonight where it's perfect and sunny and 80 and not too windy, it feels especially torturous to be alone in my car on Highway 60 while my friends are playing sand volleyball and Brent's out paddle boarding on the lake [and hello, I know. I'm going to get a haircut, not to the dentist]. But still.

I'm always antsy on the drive there. Often stuck behind trucks on the mostly two lane highway, still decompressing from work. I listen to the radio because for some strange reason, it makes me feel less alone. I vow to myself that I will tell my hairstylist that we need to break-up. The distance just isn't working out for me.

But then [always] something magical happens on the way home. It might be that I'm finally decompressed or feel less burdened, like I just walked out of a therapy session. Or maybe I'm relieved that my bangs are short enough to allow me to see again. But mostly I think I'm just happy to have a few hours completely to myself without a computer shoved in my face. [something that's happening less and less these days]

On the ride back tonight I felt thrilled that it was perfect and sunny and 80 and not too windy. I rolled the windows down, opened the sunroof and listened to the new Jason Mraz song on repeat the entire way back to Madison [I know, I know...cliche] But I don't care. I love it.

I turned down a road I've never been on and stopped for a minute. I inhaled a few deeper breaths than I normally ever allow myself. I took some pictures.

[There are few things in life I love more than a lone tree in a field.]

Some of the lines from that song are so appropriate for how I'm feeling these days :

"we had to learn how to bend
without the world caving in.
i had to learn what i've got
and what i'm not
and who i am."

I feel like I'm on the cusp. Starting to measure the weight of every minute for its potential of productivity in one or another aspect or relationship in my life. I might have initially complained about the drive but I'm actually really thankful for the three plus hours of time to just hang out with myself. Maybe I'll even look forward to it in seven weeks or so. 

**All photos taken with VSCO cam for iPhone


  1. love this. you are cray. but i love that too.

  2. where on earth do you get your haircut?!