What happens when you believe.

So I hope that soon I will not have time to write in my silly little blog multiple times a day. Especially since I don't really know why anyone else cares. :D My dog is sleeping on my feet causing them to be very toasty. My husband is sleeping next to me on the couch with his feet on my lap causing my to be unable to move. My baby dreadlocks are itching like a mother. I'm sleepy. And I'm happy.

I started dreadlocks in my hair last week. Why you may ask? I may ask the same thing. Mostly because I can. Because dreads do not make you a pot smoking fiend. Just as tattoos do not make you a devil worshiper, and owning a Harley doesn't make you a murderer. I like them. A lot actually. I feel a little more at ease and at peace with myself. My husband is a saint. He'll let me do just about anything as long as it doesn't hurt anyone.
me-"husband can I dye my hair purple?"
husband-"Yup, go for it."
me-"Can I pierce my lip?"
husband-"If you want to that's fine"
He knows most of the time I'm just testing boundaries. Asking to get a reaction. He's very good for me I think. This time it was for real. Real dreadlocks on my Real hair. I put them in myself since I don't know anyone that I would trust near my head. I am a hippy. But there are worse things to be.