I Love Gifts

My dad bought me a new digital camera today because mine broke the other way on my way to the Lafayette Zoo. Also, just in case you were ever planning on visiting the Lafayette Zoo, save your eight dollars and don't. They have exactly half of a giraffe and a mosquito. And, I'm pretty sure that mosquito gave me the west nile virus, so all in all not worth it. Anyways about the digital camera, it's red and shiny which are two of my favorite attributes of new electronics. My dad said he bought it because it was on sale but I like to think he's trying to make up for the time in the tenth grade when he called me a fatass. Either way, I'd let him call me fat again if I could score a new laptop.

Fancy May Have Been Her Name

I think I met my soul mate today. Well I didn't so much meet her as I did happen to stop at a red light right next to her. I could tell that we were meant to be together because she was smoking a cigarette, and singing along with the radio. The radio was playing "Fancy" by Reba Mcentire which clearly means that we were MADE FOR EACH OTHER. And all of this time, I thought I was the only person who did that.

Barry Manilow Lyrics Go Here

By some weird twist of reality I had my hair cut not once, but twice today. As you probably know I have a lot of hair issues as stated previously here, here, oh and also here. Most people would be satisfied with just getting it done once, oh but not me. I have to go balls out at all times apparently. Let me start you off with the story then, shall I?

I have been getting my hair cut at the exact same place since I was five years old. Apparently when I was that age the only person who could get me to sit still long enough to cut my hair was a particular woman at this particular establishment. I say woman, because I'm not exactly sure of the proper term for someone who cuts hair for a living. I could say 'hair cutter' since that is essentially their job but that doesn't seem nearly regal enough. And I can't stand the word 'cosmetician' because for some reason it conjures up images of a fussy old lady helping a drag queen getting ready for her big show. You know, hands filled with q tips, and glitter eye shadow, and duct tape to help him tuck it in. And that really doesn't do it for me, at all. I also don't like the word beautician because I have never, nor will I ever 'get my hair done' it's just a cut let's not glorify it. No one comes out of the salon looking more beautiful. They just come out looking worse for wear, and usually covered in their own hair. Let's not turn it into something that it's not okay? But anyways I digress.

I veered from the normal plan of going to my normal place because I'm adventurous as long as there's no possibility of any risk of loss of blood, vision, or any Phil Collins playing inside of the establishment. I think those are reasonable rules to have. So I go to the mall today, and decide to get a trim. I don't have an appointment, but they say they can take me anyways. As I detail to the woman exactly what I want because I am very particular she nods like she's heard it all before. Her own hair has been dyed so many times the ends are frayed. What's evens hocking is that her eyebrows are dyed the exact shade as her highlights. Not a shade darker, nor lighter but the exact same color. I swear it looks as if they have streaks in them too. It's very distracting. So I sit in the chair, and she informs me that her name is Mandy. I don't know why she even bothers, I highly doubt I'll be needing her name throughout the course of the procedure. Although for some reason, I trusted Mandy. If she did that much experimenting on her own hair I was surely in good hands. She was experienced I could tell. Who knows, me and Mandy might have even become great friends after this meeting. I could just tell that my follicles were in such good care, that we would clearly have a lot to talk about afterwards at Starbucks over lattes and cigarettes.

She begins to pantomime cutting my hair behind my head. Very rarely do I actually feel scissors making any contact with any of my actual hair. After about five minutes of this very precise miming she takes off my apron, puts away her scissors and informs me that she has an appointment and that my total is twenty five dollars. At this point my glasses are off and I can't see anything. I reach into my wallet and pull out the appropriate amount of currency. I pay her, and leave in a hurry. I walk to my car, and look in the mirror and find myself looking back the exact way I was before my trip to the mall. It looked as if my hair hadn't even been touched. At this point my love affair with Mandy was over. I trusted you Mandy, and you did this to me? How dare you, after all I had invested in our relationship? It was very disheartening, especially since I tipped the bitch ten dollars. This is what I get for being adventurous, and nice. I get fucked almost every time. So after attempting to do something new, I ended up going back to that old gallery of hair cutting and pay a cheap ten dollars to get what was promised to me in the first place.

So the moral of our story is never try anything new, you will eventually end up to regret it. Also, never trust anyone by the name of Mandy.

The World Is Not So Magical Afterall

So I'm back from vacation. I know the entirety of the Internet is rejoicing and throwing 'welcome back' parties as we speak. Please stop, I don't deserve all of that. And at the very least if you're going to throw them, please invite me and also make sure to serve chicken wings I've been jonesin' for some real badlike. I have alot of things to tell you of course. For some reason when I have days, and days to write and easy access to a computer I can't think of anything to say at all. And then as soon as I leave that convenience I can't turn around without coming up with something else. I guess inspiration is funny like that. Posts are coming, please be patient.

Magical World

I just wanted to tell you that I am leaving for vacation starting tomorrow for Disney World. I probably won't have a very great time, so be expecting lots of drama and bullshit when I get back.

Exaggeration

I had a horrible morning in case you were wondering. It started off with absolutely no sleep, and by the end of it I was covered in sweat, grape juice and dirty rain water. Also, I have a bladder infection and my kidneys have stopped functioning. I have carpal tunnel syndrome, and my wife is leaving me. I owe nine thousand dollars in back taxes and child support. My landlord is kicking me out for not paying my rent for the last six months, and I don't know where my next meal is coming from. I don't know how much of that is actually true, but I believe it. So, I guess that's all that matters right?

On Summer

I love Summer, and not for the cliche reasons that most everyone does. I don't like the beach, and I hate wearing bathing suits, and shorts. I don't want to tan, or play volleyball in the sand. But I love Summer for a million different reasons. The way it makes me feel is completely different than how I feel for the other three seasons of the year. I am my favorite self during the summer. Full of hope, and enthusiasm for the unexpected, for the tiny amazing moments that happen unexpectedly on a hot summer night in Louisiana. Those conversations between two friends that go beyond boundaries that have never been crossed before. Those moments, when you don't care about what tomorrow might bring, because we're living in the here and now of this moment, in this night, of this summer. I get restless in the summer, my excitement for the world bubbling right underneath the surface of my skin. I'm reckless in the summer doing things I know that I shouldn't, but it doesn't matter. It's Summer, so I have that excuse to back me up.

Back It Up

I was in a small wreck a few weeks ago after backing out of my friend's driveway. I was in reverse and as I got into the middle of the road about to put it in drive I hear the sounds of screeching brakes. My heart froze because firstly my insurance rates just went down from the first wreck I was in. Secondly because I was going to have to call my father and explain to him why I was backing out of this particular friend's driveway in the first place as he doesn't want me to have any sort of contact with him at all.

But then suddenly the noise stopped and his car barely nudged the back of mine. I barely even felt it, there certainly wasn't any noise. I calmly pull back into the driveway, and open my door to see if everyone is okay. But before I can even try to assess the damages, the other driver stops in the middle of the road, flings himself out of his truck and slams the door behind him. All of a sudden there is an explosion of redneck swearing. A fiftyish man in overalls and a buck ass white t-shirt, with the filthiest mouth I've ever encountered is all up in my face in a hot minute. As I fling apologies out of my mouth, he counters everyone with a concise "motherfucker".

And as the never ending parade of dirty words come from his mouth I think to myself when did it become okay for complete strangers to cuss each other out? I cuss on a secondly basis, I have one of the dirtiest mouths I've ever encountered, and yet I would never cuss in front of someone I wasn't familiar with. I don't cuss in front of children, or adults that I'm not familiar with only my peers. So why is okay for him to do it? Is it an effort in intimidation? Is it because I'm younger and infinitely better dressed than he is? (Did I mention the overalls, because they were very denim like and overallish in their appearance) What is it? I mean, neither of our cars were damaged, it was a silly little mistake that could happen to anyone. And I'm just anyone, and so is he so why is he making such a big deal out of a little thing?

And before I can take a second breath, he's out of my face, and back in his car. And shaking, trying to light a much needed stress relieving cigarette Id rive off and I wonder if it even happened. So in case he, or any of his relatives, ever come across this blog and remember the incident I want you to have something I think you would enjoy...herpes.

I'll Try

Have you ever had so many ideas that you couldn't possibly express them all at once? That's pretty much what is going on right now. Sorry for the lack 'o' updates, bitches.