September 25, 1997

I seem to have caught my breath. Not having the interview cleared something away in my head, and then the whole morning getting spent on getting my hair blue did something else. I'm not sure what...

Paula Lynch has been doing hair since she was 17, and that's all she's done for most of her life. She knows the stuff, inside and out and how it responds to everything and anything, with some smattering of why. She told me that the only reason why my tips hadn't bleached as much as the hair on my head was because of the heat that my head generated while the bleach was sitting on my skull, and the tips hadn't bleached as well because there wasn't a heat source.

She then proved her point with three bleach treatments of my hair and made the entire mass of it blonde. The scalp turned out more like platinum, and the tips were more gold colored, but it was all obediantly and thoroughly blonde. It was utterly frightening to be so utterly blonde. By the time we added the dye the hair was so porous and open that it took to the dye like a camel to water after a three day hike through the desert. Sluuuuurp. So now it's very decisively *blue* shaded with some green where the hair was more gold than silver. It's just astonishing the difference. It's also solidly colored from roots to tips and while it is bleeding just a bit of blue to my fingertips and skin, it's nothing like the flaking of dye that happened after the all-night sleep in.

I'm still ambivilant about wheither or not I like it better or not. There was something really keen about the subtlity of the original, with the golds and reds amid the blue and predominant greens. There's also something keen about the solid kick-ass brilliance of this incarnation. It's the same dye. In my driver's license picture it shows up as nearly navy blue. Which was kinda odd, but kinda keen. The picture taker looked at me and said, "That doesn't wash out. Does it?" with the tonality of doom in the fact that it didn't. I just shook my head at her and grinned. The clerk that first processed my renewel asked me if I worked at Microsoft and I said, "No, but I am a software engineer." and he grinned and said, "I knew it."

I think that a lot of why I'm feeling better is because, well, I'm feeling better. The cold is making a lot of noise and bluster, but it's mostly over. The liquids I'm drinking all the time is loosening up the phlem and my body's already done fighting it, it's just pushing out the dead invaders, now, with any mechanism it knows how.

The morning was sunny and warm, but the clouds have been rolling in. Dad says that the weather down in San Diego has been all blessed rain for the last couple of days, after two weeks of unseasonably hot weather down there. It's usually pretty temperate, don't need air conditioners, but the last two weeks were way too hot for them. John has a volleyball game tonight, we'll see if they get rained on.

Had an interesting time last night with cooking. I still haven't really gotten my nose back together, but last night I ventured apple stuffing in thick cut pork chops with baked potatoes and cucumber slices. It worked out pretty well, all in all. I couldn't smell a thing, but John said that it smelled wonderful and really, really strong. I couldn't taste the rosemary at all, but John loved the balance along with having the potato as something plain. Tonight Chuck and Regis are coming over again and I'll see if I can't do rosemary and garlic chicken. I bought the frozen chicken breasts with bones and skin last night. It's much cheaper that way than fresh, we'll see if there's a reason for that or not...

Okay. The other reason I was falling apart yesterday was because Markleford started talking about moving to Seattle from Columbus. Not for another year or so, but just the thought... Yeesh.

It was funny, too, to have Cera talk with me, for a while, about Mark in the Bujold books and how, for her as well as for myself, my Mark and the Mark in the books folded together so damned neatly.

You know, I've always kinda looked a little askance at the journals that presented their owner's thoughts and feelings and happenings with great drama. It seemed a mask, an overblowing of the everyday and the things that were happening, or the emotions that were being felt...

But then I thought... what else is drama for but the expression of emotions so clearly, so absolutely, that they cannot be mistaken by the audience? It was a thought...

©1997 by Liralen Li

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