Aahhh…the sun was shining, the birds were chirping, I was cursing out slow-moving traffic…Today was a pretty spectacular day.
It started with me finally passing out around 7am, which is early for me, so yay. However, I was supposed to hang out with my roomie and our Egyptian friend (not lying…she’s from Egypt, which is awesome), today so I was woken up around 10:30, and then re-woken again at 11:30 because closing my eyes for 5 minutes turned into an hour. Ooops…good thing my roommate is one of those forgiving types who just rolls her eyes at my ridiculousness and pulls me along to whatever adventure we are going on that day.
Today it was haircuts and sushi…not at the same type obviously…although that would be interesting…hmmm
Anyway we went to Walmart to get our hair done did…I’m waiting for the day that hotels start to pop up in walmarts, and Dr. offices…kind of like that major store in the movie Idiocracy…and we aren’t all that far off from this becoming a reality.
Back off the tangent train…I was a little apprehensive about getting a Faux-hawk. A new company is taking over for the one I currently work for, and I have applied to be one of their guards. I want to maintain my good impression; well until I am secured in the position and am left to my own devices again. But I did give the girl free reign over the style of my hair.
Ever do that? Just go to a salon and just say have at it? It’s liberating and terrifying all at the same time, kind of like riding a roller coaster, except cheaper and closer to the ground. Being close to the ground is good; it is safe…the ground in my friend. Yes…I’m terrified of heights. I can get on planes, but alcohol must be involved in some capacity, or drugs, sometimes both.
So she cut off about 2 and 1/2 inches. Mind you, I had my hair cut back in December and back then the woman had cut it short as well. It’s the shortest it has ever been, and although it feels strange, I love it. She styled it really well and I don’t feel like I’m a walking stereotype. So after a successful hair cut das roomie and I met up with our Egyptian…I need to come up with a nickname for her because calling her my Egyptian just sounds incredibly wrong…hmmm…anyway we all met up for sushi…
Sushi is delicious. Sara introduced me to sushi when I was 14 and I’ve never looked back…sooooo yummy….And the place we went too, although cheap, was incredibly clean and had really good sushi. We ate until the thought of food made us want to die (although there was plenty of room for the Red Bean and Green Tea ice cream we shared between the three of us), and Sunshine?…nope bad nickname, grah…anyway our friend gave us gifts from Egypt. I got Papyrus book marks and a little pharaoh figure-head which was awesome, and my roomie got belly-dancing gear. I’m really excited about my gifts….I’m going to have to ask her what nickname she prefers, because I’m sure calling her Cleo (Cleopatra hehe) is wrong on multiple levels and culturally insensitive…and I am not culturally insensitive…I’m just a jerk sometimes.
Anyways, she was excited that I recognized what the bookmarks were made of, and I think I impressed her. She said that she was amazed at my cultural knowledge.
I told her it is because I love literature, and language, and everything on this planet that has to do with writing hehehe. The bookmarks have hieroglyphics on them, which made me even more excited. Okay I may have geek-ed out in all my nerdy, I love school and learning, glory. But hey, I have bookmarks from Egypt, an Irish Tin-Whistle from Ireland, dominos from the Dominican Republic, shot glasses from Italy, post-cards from Spain, a mug from Antigua, clothing from Puerto Rico….and more that I can’t remember right now heheh.
As much as I deal with issues of depression, and suicide, and cutting…I truly do have a love-affair with this world. It has its darkness and anger and hatred, but there is so much beauty, and history, culture and depth to each group of people that all surrounds the absolute fact that we live, love, grow, die, and leave a print behind. It’s poetic, and I love poetry.
After lunch my roomie and I went home and proceeded to pass out from sushi-coma, which was weird since she hasn’t really slept over in months. She has a new boy toy to keep her company hehe, and I yet again find myself in the wonderful predicament of having a roommate who is never around…it’s like senior year of college all over again…just with less noise, less novella drama, and screams of “Muuurrraaaaaayyy nooooo.”
Random memory….My neighbors (One apartment of boys and one apartment of girls) my last year of college were amazing and hilarious people that I wished I had gotten to know better. Anyways, Murray was the girls’ toy monkey that tried to commit suicide several times off the second floor landing…I used to love standing in my doorway, eating whatever I had “found” coughstolencough from work, and watching their antics as the boys would dangle Murray over the edge…
Murray has his own facebook page btw…I’ll get permission to link it here in April.
I woke up from my nap when my mom called to tell me about a package she has sent out here that is meant for Easter. Well, I can’t open it till Easter…although it might get here after Easter. The postal service in Corn-Country is pathetic and has lost several packages on me. No.Me.Gusta.
Points if you know that reference.
So I get dressed, stand still so the roomie can take more pictures of my hair cut, and then run off to work…
You know, I miss not working Sundays. It was a relatively relaxing day until I got nailed with alarms and 911 calls and insanity.
But that is life isn’t it? Insanity, craziness with a hint of the random.
Day 30 was, overall, a pleasant day. A warm March day filled with smiling faces, responsibility, trust, and hope. Day 30 came like a thousands of other days, but it will be a good memory.
10 days left my friends….10 days.