I don’t really remember the exact date that I asked my hair stylist to make me blond, but it was about five-six years ago. She told me my hair was too dark (dark gray, that is) to create “blonde.” Of course I argued her point, because well... I really wanted to be a blonde. I’d never experimented with hair color, other than to rinse out with lemon juice while sun tanning as a 13-year-old. I just wanted to “have more fun.”
So, after a couple of hours of dyeing, bleaching and whatever-she-did, I had a head of blond locks that I’ve kept up ever since. Rogue? Not sure, but there are several definitions:
As a noun:
1. Somebody dishonest: an unscrupulous or dishonest person, especially somebody who is also likeable
2. Somebody mischievous: a mischievously playful person, especially a naughty child (that sounds closer...)
3. Dangerous solitary animal: a vicious or uncontrolled animal that lives apart from the rest of its herd or group (Hmmm...)
Dishonest? If no one recognized me, then I guess I’d have to concede points, except for the part about “likeable.” (tee hee)
Definition #2 sounds much more promising in my case, as a definition of “rogue.” I’m all of these things and perhaps more. I love to “play,” although I’m not sure that it’s in a mischievous context, but I know that I was often a “naughty” child.
Not certain about the third possibility, since I love my fellow humans, but what if I were a “dangerous solitary animal?” Eating off-plan is a hazardous activity for this blogger when alone. Does that qualify? The consumption of red-light foods in uncontrolled amounts, particularly in the evening hours has vicious consequences.
I think I need to take a more in-depth look at this. For now, I’m still a blondie, but what does it have to do with eating patterns? More to follow!
Your True Food Junkie Gone Rogue,
The Power of a Number
1 day ago