Thursday, March 13, 2014

Malus Capillus

I was in one of those moods. You know what I'm talking about. When you're down in the dumps and you walk into the salon and proclaim "I need a change!" The stylist shouts back "Highlights!" because that's what she's always shouting at you. Normally you change your mind and take it back. ("Err... maybe just a trim.") But not this time. This time you say yes to highlights.  "Let's do this!" you cry out -- as though you're on a mission, as though these highlights will change your whole goddam life!

Needless to say, my hair did not live up to my expectations, and now I'm left looking like some asshole at Sbarro baptized me with spaghetti. Not only that, but my 'do is so damaged by the chemicals that it's crispy as cattle hay. It makes a sound, people. Do you understand what I'm saying? Hair should not dispense sound.

But I won’t let bad hair get me down — oh no — because I’m working on novel number two again. 

I have mixed feelings about this, but “happy” is definitely one of them. It’s early stages, just so you know, and I’m still wary of getting back into this whole writing thing. But I’m feeling inspired and thinking creatively, which is nice. It’s kind of fun living life as a writer sometimes. Despite all the rejection and the endless waiting, at least being a writer gives you a reason to look at the minutiae of the world and think that it all matters, that it’s worth noting and developing and investigating — or at least worth pulling out your headphones to pay attention to.

You may think that writers are bitter cynics, but there’s an optimism in the “noticing” part of writing, and hope. Which is great, because you sure as hell can't find either at the hair salon.

What a natural look! 

Straw or hair? Hmm. Tough one.
Maybe ask the opinion of a passing cow?

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