Last night I drove to Bloomington at two in the morning, just to go deposit money into my bank account. Sadly, the nearest branch of my bank is located in Bloomington, so I took a nice, scenic drive in the dead of night to get there. On the way I passed the Owen-Putnam Woods. I have heard so many ghost stories about those woods when I was younger, thanks to me treating Hoosier Folklore like a Bible when I was in fourth grade. I came very close to veering off my charted course to go and patrol those woods, but thought better not to because I was getting a very eerie feeling from them and was alone. I really want to go again though. See if I can't come across the ghost of the decapitated mother who wears her daughter's head and warns off teenagers from getting home late. Yes, tracking her down sounds very appealing. I've been wanting to go stand in graveyards in the dead of night lately. I don't know what is up with me.
I also watched three programs last night, back-to-back, on Marilyn Monroe's life, death, the conspiracy theories surrounding her suicide, and psychics trying to contact her. It was all fascintaing. I don't understand how she has been able to captivate so many for so long, but I am glad for it. She was truly a beautiful, fucked-up creature. Probably why I am so incredibly mesmerized and inspired by her in the first place.
I really like the end results of my haircut. It is a pretty big change, but I needed it. Funny how something so simple can alter you in so many ways.