November 2nd, 2003

lola and manni

on fancy new hair and advances in being able to be nice to oneself

Kate and I visited this guy who has been taking care of my mom's hair for over ten years. He's the gayest salon owner in Illinois. We are both pretty shy and self-conscious about things like "contemporary" hair, and have had the common frustration of visiting hair cutters who just keep asking "so what is it you want?" "how shall I style this?" ... I DON'T FUCKING KNOW!!.

This guy was both a good listener and a good sense of how scared and anxious we were about "big" changes, and also fairly aggressive about what he thought needed to be done, and why.

So I'm now sporting a funky touseled hip thing that's much shorter than it was. It's even LAYERED and makes me look even younger than I already do. For her part Kate has a shoulder-length do with big flippy sexy waves, and lots of reddish highlights.

I dunno, maybe not a big deal to some people, but for us both this was a major accomplishment and a big step forward in, well, "personal appearance" care. Maybe all that watching Queer Eye is being somehow inspiring.

Yeah, there are pictures, but they're not digital, I won't be able to scan them for a while, and I'm probably still too self-conscious to make much publically available.

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last night's dream

I had a lot of weird dreams last night and basically slept pretty fitfully.

I only remember a bit of one, and it doesn't make much sense. I'm with my dad (who in this dream is not as senile and incapacitated as he was near death, but still gray-haired, and a little spacy... he was always a little spacy, come to think of it), and for some reason we are compelled (I'm thinking someone else sent us on this as an errand) to go into this flavored popcorn place to buy a few kinds of flavored popcorn.

But we sort of accidentally go in the back of this place instead of the front, so we kind of have to make our way from this back room, which is a sit-down dinner place where everyone is eating different kinds of flavored popcorn, to the front. But it's hard to find the right way, we have to maneuver through several smaller dining rooms that have been shut down, so the tables are empty and the lights off. Oh and up some stairs, too, which is difficult because I am hauling this incredibly large, incredibly heavy metal drum of that nasty carmel corn stuff... you know, the kind with the cardboard separator inside to keep apart the three loads of nasty carmel corn, cheese corn, and plain old popcorn? Except this drum is HUGE, and it's hard for me to lift, so I have to take it up all these stairs one at a time.

Finally I make it into the front of the place, where there are yet more tables full of people eating, and an order counter with about ten thousand different kinds of flavored popcorn. And now I'm embarrassed, because I have this huge barrel of carmel corn so I'm thinking people must think I'm crazy to be in here ordering more. And I have trouble deciding what flavors to order, and how much (it's sold by the pound, and I have no idea what size a pound of popcorn would be). But after much anxiety, I wind up ordering a pound of plain popcorn, and a pound of swiss cheese popcorn.

Suddenly I realize that I've lost dad somehow, I just assumed he was behind me going through all those rooms and up those stairs, but I guess not, because he is nowhere in sight. Leaving the big barrel of carmel corn behind, and carrying the two bags I was just served, I retrace my steps back to the back room in which we first entered the place, and there I find him sitting alone at a table, just starting to dig in to a meal featuring a huge T-bone steak.

  • Current Music
    Luscious Jackson - Why Do I Lie
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