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hairdying time

Today was mostly a wasted day, I had to wake up frightfully early to deal with the contractors and cut them a check, and though I tried to stay awake, I failed. I took a nap, and woke up mid-afternoon. Tsk, tsk. I was planning on heading up to SF today, also, but the contractors are coming to work this weekend, which is a good thing, having one bathroom for everyone next week would be pretty annoying. So i'm going back to SF tomorrow. No big whup.

I was happy to see that the Royal Carpet Alyssum seeds I spread around the chunk of soil in front of the house a few days ago has begun to sprout already. AS IF BY MAGIC. All these cute little 2-leaf sprouts. I also discovered that some kind of weedy flower had taken over a rosebush, and I thought it was lost, but today I noticed all kinds of new growth on it, now that it isn't strangled by the other plant. The snapdragons are doing alright, and the honeysuckle has yet to bloom, but all is well in my little garden plot.

Yesterday, I was painfully bored, so I spent a while on the phone with my old friend (he's not old, he's my age, but we've known each other since we were 15 or so, scary!) Cheyenne, while he was supposedly working. We played catch-up for a while, and then I said that we should hang out sometime, so he wound up coming over here and we spent a long time talking about politics and getting very, very stoned. Yay! I spent about 20 minutes watching the sun set and twilight set in and became very introspective after he left. All this blast-from-the-past stuff has made me happier than I thought it would. It's good that i've managed to retain a few really good friends through my whole weird anti-social self-absorbed phases, and I want to try to be more of a friend in return, or something.

Joel got his labret re-pierced today, and he called me, moaning and pouty and swollen. I guess it hurt about 30 times worse than the initial piercing. Poor thing!

It occurs to me that I am going to turn 30 soon. Wow. I so don't have my shit together! I am perpetually 19, or something.


( 4 uh-ohs — Make a mess )
Jul. 12th, 2002 11:53 pm (UTC)
I find myself thinking the same thing. When people ask me my age I immediately start to tell them 22. Them I have to stop and remember how very long ago that was and give my real age. Sheesh.
Jul. 13th, 2002 01:49 am (UTC)
It's weird, all my old friends are all just about 30, or about to turn 30, and none of us really acts our age. What a generation of slacker fucks. I think it's probably a good thing that I haven't changed my radical views or my weird hair. It keeps me on my toes. Or something.

I am noticing that i'm a lot more mellow though. More mature in some ways. It's the whole if I only knew then yada yada, you know.
Jul. 13th, 2002 09:10 am (UTC)
When I was in college and did a lot of hair dye stuff I used to say 'I have to get this out of my system because I can't be doing this when I'm 30.' When I moved to NYC I kept saying 'I want to dye my hair, but I'm too old now. I'll look like one of those foolish people who tries to look way younger.' Somewhere along the line that's gone out the window because here I am dying my hair as I'm nearing 30. I think my family always thought this was a phase I was going through. I would 'normal out' have normal hair, take out the piercings, get married and settle down. Because that's what hippies did when they were our age. The hippies grew up into respectable normal people. But our generation of freaky kids seems to be growing up, getting jobs, getting married, having kids, but remaining freaky kids. We are going to be a generation of grandmas with pierced tongues and pleather clothes. And yet, how much you want to bet the grandkids to our generation will still think we are dreadfully old-fashioned and lame?
Jul. 14th, 2002 11:37 pm (UTC)
Cram & Jam
Getting the labret done initially was no big deal, no pain whatsoever. This time around, though, it was unexpected (and pretty painful) exercise working everything through the old hole -- work that neither Dave nor myself had planned on. We're still a bit stumped as to why the leftover scar tissue was so hard to go through, and after the whole mess was complete even Dave had to sit back for a moment and kinda process what had just happened. It earned me a metric buttload of candy, though.

I gotta go back in 2-3 weeks to get the fishtail re-bent (it's causing some problems) and see if my Provon is in. I'm sure you'll be joining me, Kamio
( 4 uh-ohs — Make a mess )