nails that can only be explained by a miracle of sorts.

My hair is shorter. I figured, hey those gnarly blonde streaks that break off and twirl into all directions and lengths they're so dead can just be cut off.

I was hoping for shorter layers equaling big voluminous curls. It's kind of working.

I cry after every hair cut, it's just a part of life.

I'm sure I'll be giddy just as soon as I pair it with makeup.

Keep thinking. Dead hair is gone. This is good. You don't have that gnarly orangey stuff anymore.

I would like to marry a man like Nick Stokes on CSI please. Especially in the episode where he keeps believing that little girl is alive and he saves her out of the swamps with a slit neck.

I have alot of CSI on my dvr that need to be consumed via my eyeballs.

I feel like my worth to my dad is based on what I do. He keeps bringing up jobs, even though I told him over and over that I'm not going to get a job for three months and then move, plus I doubt anyone would want to hire someone like that.

But yet he bring home flyers to work in the framing shop on base, then a few days later meaning today he gives it to me again after I left it in the living room, I said I didn't want to frame things and cut glass, he said it'll teach me skills, like learning something and getting paid.

Then he said, see you'll learn a valuable skill, what skills do you have now.

I let that hang in the air and in the new manner of trying not to let him get to me and not try to uselessly defend myself I walked away and got in the shower.

I've just been depressed today, even without the hair thing. Just very slow, that happens when I'm depressed or whatever I am. I think slowly, I move slowly, I miss entire conversations when keep my head in a book all day and wonder how I could not hear things around me in retrospect.

I'm ok with it. I'm ok with my emotions and in and out sadness and feelings of hopelessness.

I've been made aware of so much these past months, it's strange. I'm aware of the things I do and am able to determine why I do them. I'm aware that I'm blatantly aware of myself and am usually at peace with it.

I finally put two and two together and told my psychiatrist that I do have obsessive compulsive tendencies, I never really wanted to think about the things I do, the tapping my elbows in threes and my feet, one foot down then the other then jump and put them together on the ground. Even when I'm driving I take my feet off the brake pedal. I never wanted to admit it because I despise it when people categorize themselves and make it a verb or way of being. Not an actual disorder.

Oh I like my books in color order because I'm soooo OCD.

Or, I get restless in class because I have ADHD or ADD.

But when I told her about the things I do, amongst other things she said I definitely did have tendencies or something.

I feel like I have to put everything or most everything down here as I think of them or I might forget. I'll write one thought or subject and then think of another and instead of saving it for another day I feel I have to get it down now in case I forget. I want to get it out.

That's why I write so much. I don't want to have this tiny revelation about my personality or views or just general thoughts and opinions and not write them down and then forget about them.

This way I'll have them. I'll be putting myself in definitive type form.