Ahhhhh…….

Ahhhh….. that was nice.  Birthday massage today was lovely.  I fought off snoozing as much as I could, but drifted off a couple times anyway.  So nice.  Thanks to my wonderful friends for that gift!  😀

So my Jays have been playing quite well of late, and I’d just like to point out they’ve been putting my Johnny Mac in the games consistently.  He’s been working on his swing and it seems to be improving, which is really great for me to see because heck, that’s really the only thing (oh, and those pesky Yankee fans who just vote for their own) keeping him from winning a Gold Glove.  I mean, really folks, this guy deserves it.  His defensive stats are impeccable.  Just because he’s had trouble hitting doesn’t mean he shouldn’t be ignored for the honour, since the Gold Glove is supposed to reward defense.  Okay, enough out of me.  It’s been said a million times by others, anyway.

Today a lady came up to me in the grocery store, with her daughter shyly clinging to her leg.  She told me, “I just wanted to let you know, my daughter told me your hair is exactly how she’d like hers to be when she grows up, but she’s too shy to tell you herself.”  I thought it was so sweet.  I thanked her daughter, and thanked her for telling me.  As she walked away, I heard her say, “See?  People like it when you give them compliments.”  A life lesson learned.  🙂

I love it when people compliment my hair.  If you don’t know me, it’s very long, strawberry blonde, and very straight.  I get asked a lot about when I last cut it, and I always reply, “when I was in grade 3.”  I don’t even know for sure that’s exactly when it was, but that’s close enough.  I remember walking out of the salon in Niagara Square, with a bit of a bob hairdo — just below my ears, and slightly curled under….. very bouncy, which is of course very fun for a little girl.  Anyway, I always get a kick out of the different responses people have to it.  There are several, and I’ll detail them here, including what I’m thinking, and what I actually say:

  • “Wow!  You have such long hair!”

What I’m thinking:

“Really?  Oh, so that explains the hairy thing that’s been following me around lately.”

What I actually say:

“Yup!  It’s pretty long, eh?”

  • “How long did it take you to grow your hair?”/ “When was the last time you cut your hair?”

What I’m thinking:

“An eternity/An eternity ago.  Probably before I was even born.”

What I actually say:

“Well, the last time I cut it was in grade 3.”

  • “It must take a long time to wash, eh?”

What I’m thinking:

“…..because things take a long time to get wet?”

What I actually say:

“Actually, not really.  But it takes forever to dry.”

  • “How long does it take to dry?  You must need a blow dryer, huh?”

What I’m thinking:

“Not unless my palm frond-fanning servants are taking the day off.”

What I actually say:

“Yes.  Without one, it takes hours to dry.”

  • “How do you keep it so nice and shiny?”

What I’m thinking:

“I don’t ever shower.  It’s just greasy.”

What I actually say:

“Thanks, I just make sure to use conditioner.”

  • “Have you ever thought about cutting it?”

What I’m thinking:

“Every time I have this conversation with someone.”  (just kidding)

What I actually say:

“Yes, fairly often.  I just never seem to get around to doing it, so I guess I just like it.”

  • “You should donate it to Cuts For Cancer”

What I’m thinking:

Okay, this one really gets to me.  Clearly, I’m attached (quite literally) to my hair.  Telling me I *should* donate it kind of offends me, even if it’s well-meaning.  If someone has spent a lot of time working on something, you don’t just suggest they give it away, so why is this any different?  For one, it’s like saying “You have a good feature; get rid of it.”  On top of that, donating hair to this cause is SO prominent in today’s society, it’s like asking if I’ve been living in a cave, to have never thought of donating it.  If you want to know the truth, I have spent a lot of money and effort over the years on it, to just donate it like all the people who never really take good care of their hair but donate it anyway (and the wig-makers still make great wigs out of that hair).  That’s not to say it’s not a good cause or anything, but I would rather sell my hair for money, and donate some of the money to finding a cure for cancer.  Or, I would like to have my hair made into a wig that I could give someone I know who has cancer.  For me, that would be more meaningful.  Besides, it’s like seeding, growing, and harvesting a crop and then being expected to donate it to the Food Bank.  I have heard there are companies that pay a substantial amount of money for hair in good condition, and honestly, I wouldn’t mind making a little money from it if I could.  After all, I have looked after it all these years; I feel pressured and a bit annoyed when people act as if I don’t deserve my own hair.  I hope I don’t sound like a mean old witch, and I hope I’ve explained myself alright.

What’s even more frustrating is that often people will have this “epiphany” that I should donate my hair, and then they get more and more excited about it, saying I should do this, or that, and they get so happy about it, it’s like they won’t be satisfied until I say I’ll agree to do it.

“Guhh.  This again.”

What I actually say:

“Yeah, I have thought about it.  Maybe sometime.”

  • “It must be pretty heavy, eh?”

What I’m thinking:

“Imagine it soaking wet!”

What I actually say:

“Haha I don’t even notice it.  It grows slowly, and my muscles have just adapted to it now.”

  • “Nice hair!”

What I’m thinking:

“Thanks!”

What I actually say:

“Thanks!”  😉

 

Alright, enough of that for now.  If I remember more later, I’ll post them, too.  Time for bed!

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Stalemate

I have a sight
I thought somewhere near
takes me a while to
to…..
well I should have lost it
perhaps
maybe
somehow
did
inside it burns
and I shiver
you know it’s cold
so very cold

I’m not hopeless
just delusional
apparently
and to make up
for all the lost time
somehow started
to believe in fairytales
masochistic? probably
I’ve heard it heals
or bides time
with other distraction
sort of like me
I guess that’s ironic
but really, not hopeless
that’s part problem
you see why
it’s the hope that kills
if I were numb
oh to be numb
I would lose fear
I would lose pain
I would lose anger
I would lose love
well, you’ve taught me
you can’t win them all
in my year of luck
my precious months
a troubled match
a frightened soul
helped onto my plate
peppered with perfection
here and there
and when that bell begins
I will be a mistake
and another chapter
in a drama
whose clout extends
far beyond
the amusing present time

I’m sleepless
and you know why
and you won’t tell me

I’m walking the lines
with chains around my neck
ball bearings in my throat
and hands behind my back
and I say “I’m starved”
and you say you’re tired
but give me food
that I can’t eat, smell, see
and say it ought to be enough
but death takes its toll
bending all rules
portraying life as such
well you feel remorse
but upon the next
bestow a fresh nothing
ready to be devoured
and kill another
just like before me
me
and after me

I’m still sleepless
could you tell me why?

I did have a dream though
yes I had to wake you up
you transformed
into the jerk
and I couldn’t get you to leave
I awoke frightened
with the door open

do you realize
character and honesty
can both be judged
by ignoring words altogether
and looking
solely
on what you do

so in this pretend world
this fantasy of yours
some things bleed
into mine
and I try to see
subtract the you
subtract the me
to look right through
to reality
but look at me
I play the fool
I’m just the tool
to set you free
of memory
of any need
of honesty
responsibility
respectability
honour, value
worth, and truth
you see, all these
I could be for you
but that fantasy
well it bleeds too
into one which you
have saved for me
I still can’t sleep
and I blame you

Copyright L.M. 2007.