I had a wonderful experience last week meeting and falling in love with (for my hair's sake) a new hairdresser. I finally received a good haircut in Chicago! Yay! I did not go home and cry, as I have been known to do after every haircut I've had in the past three years, but instead went home and jumped up and down and flipped my hair in the mirror and giggled and had a glass of wine in celebration. I finally found someone who understands curly wavy frizzy locks such as mine and I absolutely love him for it. In between calling everything "bitches" and discussing The Cure and other bands we both have loved for years, he raved about my "curly as shit" hair, and how he thinks my look is a great one. Nice. I very much enjoyed the ego stroking. And the haircut. I can't even communicate how thrilled I am. I am slightly obsessed with my hair, if you haven't already figured that out. Woo! Hair!

And now to drastically change the mood: I had two incredibly vivid apocalyptic dreams last night, which sort of freaked me out. In one I was driving with my mom down the highway somewhere, when out of nowhere all of these grey WWI-style airplanes and helicopters started coming out of the sky and crashing into the traffic. I knew right away it was the end of the world, and I immediately prayed that one would hit our car so that I would die instantly rather than live through the intense horror of Armageddon. As if it heard my thoughts, a plane headed straight toward me and I dreamed that I died. The pain was real and intense, and as I knew it was only a second or two, it felt like an hour before I thought to myself, "And...I die..." in a Shakespeare inspired fashion. It was very strange and I am deeply disturbed by the possible meanings. I'm not depressed, much less suicidal... I am not quite sure where this thing came from.

In the other apocalyptic nightmare I was in a city with lots of churches, big heavy stone churches with iron gates. There were dinosaur-like creatures, huge and looming, tearing through the city and I was trying to convince someone (Hubb?) that we had to get to the outer edges of the city and hide in the basement of one of the old churches. The whole dream was a struggle trying to convince this person to go with me, but for some reason they didn't want to leave the center of the city. Meanwhile the monster things were getting closer and closer, and I imagined our doom as the buildings around us began to crumble. This one probably has to do with recent conversations between Hubb and I about moving to the suburbs someday, his violent opposition to the idea, and my openness to it.

What is freaking me out the most is the incredibly vivid quality of both dreams. I've never dreamed like that before. I'm curious to see if this vividness transfers to good dreams as well.