The king of rock and roll

‘Wise men want faith, fools want gold’ Mercury Rev – Nite and Fog

I’ve always been a kind of rebellious girl. Granted I came to it a little late, but when I rebelled during my teenage years I did it in damn good style. Passing over the ‘secondary school’ incident (which will be saved for a moment when I am clearly too drunk to be allowed near a computer and when I’ve decided to take my diary off ‘public view’) I spent a large portion of my sixth form years drunk. Nothing amazing there I’m sure, only it ended up causing ructions beyond belief with my mum. I rebelled against her ‘perfect little family’, that, as I saw it, didn’t include me. In her eyes I was turning into my father, but at the time I couldn’t see it. I dated unsuitable boys who she ALWAYS hated, which of course made them more attractive. When they broke my heart (cos let’s face it, your mum is always right and they are always utter gits) she didn’t even say ‘I told you so’ once. Which I was quite impressed with.

Anyway, this has a point (honestly). Even when I left home I wanted to rebel. I wasn’t quite done yet. But then there was Gary, and he was everything a mother loves in a boyfriend. Which drove me crazy and led me to have the urge to rebel even more. When he talked marriage and buying a house I balked and instead spent the next few months getting drunk every Friday night with work friends. I never cheated on him, I just couldn’t bring myself to do that, but I rebelled in other, smaller ways.

I think part of me still wants to rebel continously. The ‘system’ is utter bollocks and should be rebelled against on a regular basis and I have always attempted to. The one person I still rebel against, if you can rebel at 25, is my mother. I think I still need something to shock her. Nothing has so far, not the tattoo, not the fact that I am witch. My mother is unflappable. I always thought Duncan would make her take a step back with his shoulder length hair and love heavy metal music, but she just smiled and said how much she liked him. I’m not sure that was how it was supposed to go. Don’t get me wrong. It’s not like I’m dating him for shock value or anything, I love the guy.

For those of you who have met him, you wouldn’t recognise him this week. On Monday, in a slightly impulsive moment, my ‘metal’ (and that is the original metal not this nu metal thing) boyfriend walked into the hairdressers in town and had his hair chopped. He now has short hair. It’s a change I can tell you. I love it, but it’s a shock to the system at first. He’s been wanting it chopped for a few weeks now & has always said he wouldn’t be one of these guys who’s 50 with a ponytail, but still I think he misses it in some ways. I know I miss running my fingers through it, but somethings are meant to change I guess.

Until there is a next time…

xx