Travelled into the city yesterday. I decided enough was enough and I would go to see the woman who has cut my hair since I was 13 (yes: thirteen). Got on a nassty BART car: as someone apparently felt that their snack must be shared with the poor hungry BART seats and apples and peanut butter are the bART seats favoritist goody. (As I said nasssty).
I get off at Powell street and walk up past the cablecar turnaround, the DSW, the huge Victoria Secret across from the equally huge Disney store and get to Sutter. I go in to the store front and walk up and find out that the salon she is in in is one more floor up so after three flights I arrive. And she starts hacking away. This pleases me enormously. When I ask for a Brooksie A-line I want a Brooksie A-line not a slanted 70's c curve which is what I have been given the last two times I've gotten my haircut.
I feel so lite!
Afterwards I go to the book store and find two reads:
History of the Ancient World, Susan Wise Bauer and
Twenty Years After, Alexander Dumas. Then I go back to the BART station feeling all pleased and there's this guy who insists on invading my personal space to try and sell me a BART ticket I do not want nor do I need and as he will not get out of my face I have to tell him:
"Look! I just want to get my ticket without being bothered!" And after staring at him and not moving he takes a hint.
I can then get my ticket and go down to the platform and board a train where I am promptly surrounded by men in suits, with wireless laptops at the ready, headed home.
**
I am still reading
Perdido Street Station but as of today I have less than eighty pages to go. Mind, they are tight packed tiny font pages but - I have hopes that
the Good Fairies of New York may be started tonight.
In order to accomplish this near feat of concluding the feast fest of slake-moths and oneirotic Clotho like spiders I went to a cafe and latched onto one of the comfy red chairs. Got me a lunch and a drink and settled right in. Then, how odd, I don't remember anything sharpish in my food stuffs. Hmmm, I don't recall hearing any bone like cracking. Why then does one tooth feel jagged and the other not?
Guess along with a visit to my familiar hair stylist it's time for a visit to my familiar dentist. Seems part of a molar has dissolved leaving a ten year old (most likely older say 12?14?) filling to hold up the fort on one side. *sigh*
***CV
***CV