RE-do

There is stuff in my life that I am doing over now. I like that that is possible. But do-overs can be different. I no longer have to be whatever it was I wanted or be whatever it was I thought you wanted. I can take a deep breath and just jump in in whatever way makes sense for me now.

When I was younger I wanted to be a dancer, badly, but it was too hard to reconcile in my head for many reasons that would be too much like a high school "Dear Diary" entry to go over now. But it was heavy. It no longer is that. And what I am doing now is taking dance classes at the gym. I love it. I don't know all the moves and can't jump as high or stretch as low, but I have fun and I sweat like hell. It is wonderful. I took a new class and the teach came up to me afterwards and said, "Who ARE you?!" She was amazed at my ability. It was fantastic. She asked me if I was a dancer, etc. Okay, you KNOW I loved it. It was awesome. But I am just a guy who likes to take class now. That is cool.

And I am taking French classes again. I sucked at it in high school and failed miserably. Now I do my homework and study on the subway. I would like to talk to a French person in a different tense besides the present. That is the new goal. The big dream goal would be to live in France for some time. Who knows.

And bagpipes. I THOUGHT I wanted to be a top solo player and a killer band member. But I don't think I ever wanted it enough or, sadly, saw myself as that. But now I play in a grade 3 band and I am working on being the most solid I can be. I enjoy working with a metronome and my secret goal would be to play solo competition again.

Dreams and goals seem calmer now and I like it. I want a job. A partner. And I want to be an really decent dancing, French speaking, bagpiper.

The Tired Saag-a of Fear

There is that thing that you always order when you go into a certain restaurant. You know that thing that you love and if you don't order it THIS TIME then whatever you get is possibly going to suck and your whole night, and by extension - your whole life, will be ruined?

Well, this can happen with take out too.

Sean, Frank, Charlie and I ordered Indian to be delivered to Sean's. With Indian (unlike Chinese or Thai where I am not order faithful or order fearful) I always get chicken and spinach. Or Chicken Saag. I love it. But Indian cuisine offers so much more. I just don't know as I ALWAYS get this one thing.

And I always get Naan bread (or a "snowshoe" as we called it in Scotland.)

Chicken Saag and a Snowshoe. That is my gastro experience of a whole culture because that is what I had the first time I had Indian.

Three Martini Coat Check Guy

My pal Nancy and I took an illicit midweek getaway (illicit for her as she was working!) and went to the Whitney Museum to catch whatever they were hanging. No real agenda, but every so often it is good to go to an important museum to rationalize why we live in such an expensive, crowded place. I jest, I love expensive and crowded!


I am trying to be a semi-professional blogger and needed a photo to commemorate. I only remember as we are leaving. No fancy art photos for me!

The coat check guy took our photo. He was very friendly. He said he was 3 Martini happy. And both Nancy and I had heard my sister Eileen's friend's Tori's grandmother's advice "Girls, martinis are like breasts - one is not enough and three is too many."

Apparently everyone else at coatcheck had heard some version as well as we all seemed to know it.

"Breasts." I love saying that word. "Breast" not so much, but "breasts" plural seems so school boy naughty. Did I just write that?

You go to Atlanta, I'll go to Akron and we'll all meet up in New York!

Many times after pleasant trips the trip home must be grueling. It is just a thing.

We got up at 5:20 am to catch our 8am flight to LaGuardia from Newport News, VA. First we had to turn in the rental car which never was able to shift out of first gear the whole time we had it. Greg managed nicely to get half the bill knocked off for this. We then got on the plane.

After settling in the captain announced that a door was not shutting and the ground crew would be just a minute and once it was fixed we would be on our way. These few minutes turned into about an hour. Greg had to go from LaGuardia to JFK to get his flight back to California. A connection was at stake. In fact, it was missed.

Then the captain announced we would have to deplane and get rerouted. Our best option was to go to Atlanta and then to LaGuardia to arrive at 2:30pm. No problem.

We get on the plane and found out we would not get to New York until 5pm. No way for Greg to make the final flight home. (He already missed his original flight)

8 hearty folk including us get off the plane and ended up flying to Akron, OH! There were only 8 of us on this flight and we all sat in business class. What fun. It was also our original LaGuardia crew and an all-female crew at that: Captain, FO, flight attendants.


We ate at an Arby's in Akron and then flew (business class, thanks again, Greg) to LaGuardia. Miraculously our bags were waiting for us there. Which makes no sense as we were supposed to beat the flight from Atlanta. Oh well.

I got on a city bus home and Greg got a taxi to JFK. So ended our wonderful Southern, historic, bonding adventure. What a great trip.

Now that I have been back in time and to Ohio, I am ready to renew my vows with New York and health and good spirit and get to work!

Fine, fine Dining

Greg generously took Larry, Curt and me out for a final Southern feast together at the finest restaurant in Williamsburg called The Fat Canary. The name comes from Colonial-era poet John Lyly's line, "Oh for a bowl of fat Canary, rich Palermo, sparkling sherry." (oddly I have a friend named Rich Palermo!!) He was referring to wines from the Canary Islands followed by Italy.

We had a great time and a gorge-ous meal! So much excellent food. It was an endless, decadent course after course feast of scallops and quail and cheeses and lovely rabbit! To top it off we had this incredible dessert where Baked Alaska mated with a Bananas Foster. (see below)



I think there is no better thing in life than good food and friends. It is timeless, ageless, and a gift from the gods. ( And Greg.) I can think of nothing better in life than this.


(This table does not even suggest the amount of food we ate!)

With Greg You Get Eggroll

You know when you hang with certain friends you always meet really nice and interesting people? I feel fortunate to say that about most of my pals. So it is with Greg. We go to Colonial Williamsburg and get to hang with Greg's dear college pal Larry and his partner Curt.

Larry is not just a nice guy, but the "Curator of Plants" for Colonial Williamsburg! Who knows these kinds of folks? Greg. And Curt is a Colonial archaeologist! Indiana Jones in a tri-corner hat!

Larry was so nice and spent the day with us and showed us around. We also got to see his newly published, beautiful book "Flowers and Herbs of Early America" all over town. (Click on title to buy on Amazon.) It was like being escorted by the local celebrity.





Larry signs Greg's copy.

A Taste of the Old Place

Toured to old place today. Beautiful weather after rain and snow the day before. Being February combined with the lousy economy, CW was dead as if a plague had hit the town when some tradesmen came back from the West Indies. All the better for us. Shops were open, people were walking around in traditional garb, but no kids screaming for ice cream and, God forgive me, no families vying to get on the Biggest Loser. It was peaceful and lovely.

The Governor's Palace: Jefferson and Patrick Henry stayed here.

Weapons in the entryway of the Governor's Palace. Very inviting!


The Palace kitchen. They cook here every day. Whatta a spread. This man knows his kitchen. All the people who work in CW are really, really knowledgeable. I want to be that way about my apartment!

Buttermilk Pie

Greg and I met up with Larry and Curt for some fine dining at the Old Chickahominy House outside of Colonial Williamsburg. It was my "entree" to good old Southern Food. The kind of place that doesn't bother to put Weight Watchers Points on the menu. It was, of course, wonderful. (I wish I photographed my buttermilk pie. Something my grandma would have made had she been American and from the South. )


Called "Fruit Salad": lettuce, mayo dressing, pear slice and grated cheese.

Chicken and Dumplings. Slather it on your hips, baby. Mmmmm.

Larry and Curt dining on food they must not eat too often as they look so trim!

Oscar Night

Back in Historic Colonial Williamsburg for Oscar Night. No TVs in Taverns. No recreationists in Versace watching on flatscreens. Turns out there were no Oscar telecasts in Patrick Henry's day1

What are two stargazed boys to do? We shopped at Ye Olde Cheese Shop and brought our provisions back to our modern hotel room, dragged the desk between the beds and put all our food and gorged while Wolverine danced up a storm on TV.

A few things I am glad about:
Sean Penn won!!! ( I did not want Mickey Rourke to win.)
Kate Winslet gave a proper speech and did not gush and sob ala Globes

Loved how:
great Anne Hathaway was at singing.

Hated:
Song and dance numbers
montages

We All Have a Past

Greg and I took what he calls, I believe, "An Unauthorized" trip to Colonial Williamsburg, Virginia. "Unauthorized" because it is "just because" with no wedding, family reunion, summer break, etc. attached to it. While others toiled, we went back 250 years to walk around.

I had never been and it was fantastic. Greg went to grad school at College of William and Mary and had lived here. It was great to see it through his eyes and experience history as "a 1930s fantasy of 18th Century life" as Greg's friend Larry put it. The place has authentic structures from the 1700s, but its accuracy in terms of how it was all laid out is a bit filtered through the 1930s when John D. Rockefeller bought up the place to "restore" it as it once was. And it was great that he did. Believe me, there is plenty of research and original structures here to keep a history buffed drooling. They have really tried to be as true as possible. We took a tour of the Governor's Palace (a reconstruction) that was meticulously researched. Our guide was amazingly knowledgeable and answered every question Greg threw at him.


Me posing in front of the statue of Lord Botetourt on the W & M campus. Freshman are supposed to bow.

It snowed on our first day like it did back in the 1700s! It was amazing.
Greg and I using modern conveniences for communication and weather. Shame, shame.

We had lunch at Chownings Tavern in CW. Greg worked there 30 years ago when he was a student. With THIS woman who is still working there! What a fun first meal.

Keep Your Spoon Collection at HOME!

Saw this boarding the plane to VA. There was a little known intelligence about terrorists from Santa's Village.

Dancing As Fast As I Can

Last night I watched "Jerome Robbins - Something to Dance About" on PBS. This guy choreographed "West Side Story", "Gyspy" , "Peter Pan" - you name it. He also had a huge career in the ballet - very rare for someone to cross over from musical theatre to classical so well. He was a genius and a tyrant. The usual.

Just watching this program made me once again realize how much I love/loved dance. Little known fact was it was all I cared about. I wanted to be a dancer more than anything, but I could not be a gay dancer. I had to be a boozing, womanizing Bob Fosse dancer. The rub.

I was provisionally accepted to Julliard's dance program, I made an off-Broadway show when I was 18 and I ran out of auditions in front of Michael Bennett for the road company of "A Chorus Line."

There. Whew.

So I sat here in my ample 40s on the couch and watched this guy's career unfold. I could feel the itch and I scratched it today by taking an Afro-Jazz class at the Westside Y. It was a blast to be barefoot in front of the mirror and working it. She really worked us and I loved it. A woman in the class said "You have obviously had some training" and I lapped it up like a starving kitten.

Tonight I topped it off by going to The New York City Ballet at Lincoln Center. I got the $20 nose bleed ticket and saw two Balanchine pieces and a newer piece. With full orchestra in tuxes. All for one ATM blurt! Good value.

Jerome Robbins was a co-founding choreographer of the New York City Ballet.

Itch scratched.

East Meets West

I e-mailed my friend Basil to see if he wanted to meet for coffee.

He said YES.

Good.


He lives in the East Village and I live on the Upper West Side.

IN a Village. ON a Side.

I guess that is how it works. These two points are worlds apart in distance and in spirit. He is way cooler. But I have Central Park.


We meet at Tarallucci e Vino on 18th just off of Union Square. I love going down to that area and I love that venue. As I have said before on this blog it is this oasis of a place away from the hubbub with good food and a great setting and, at lunch, it is really reasonable for all the beauty you get.


It was so good to see Basil. We met working at Sundance Film Festival and until recently he ran Newfest here in in New York. A really nice and sound guy. With a mischievous twinkle. It was good for me to get out and chat to someone about work and life and just get it going again after being so ill. I hope that maybe we can help each other out. It is good to have friends on your team. It was also fun to get his take on New York and dating. What a hoot. Maybe some of it is painfully true, but I just don't want to accept it yet.


As the months move forward I want to meet loads of people for coffee. Maybe do a Friends for Coffee blog. Not too original, I am certain, but the exercise is good because if we don't call each other up, er, e-mail each other, it will be 6 months to a year on this tiny island afore we meet again.

Ce N'est Pas Assez Cuit

"This is a little undercooked."

I have decided that the way to deal with recovering from illness and unemployment is to take French lessons! I have wanted to do this for some time. You know those ideas or travel places where you go "That would be great to DO or to GO to......SOMEday." And that day rarely comes.
So French lessons was on my list, but so is Buenos Aires and oil painting and Quincy, MA. I get overwhelmed and then flog myself for such thoughts sans income. A vicious cycle. Oh right, "Cycle in the Loire Valley or Laos."

So thanks to Craigslist I found an affordable French class in Chelsea. We started last night. It is held in some sort of funky theatre rehearsal space. There are 5 of us. I am the plus ancien by a kilometre at least. No matter. I am there to learn.

It is called "Serious Intermediate" and I seemed to have done okay. Loads to study as we are going fast.


But I think this is a great part of my New York experience and have already seen how it is a good completement to my job search. It is redirecting my brain from Jello to something beaucoup plus fort.

Flowers

I carry a camera with me all the time AND an iphone, but I FORGET to take pictures. This is chronic. I had electrodes on my face today. No photos. It was snowing and raining. No photos. I was on 5th Avenue below Grand Central. No photos. What kind of blogger am I? Rubbish!!

I met my friend Sam who is back here in NYC from LA for a play audition. (No photos of Sam's visit!) and we met at a health food place, Green Symphony on 43rd between 7th and 8th. I had to watch him eat kale and brown rice because I was not allowed to eat as it was before my balance test. I have to say here, that this place looks amazing and I will come back and try some of the hot dishes they have like veggie samosas. Mmmm.

Sam and I headed down to E 36th Street by the Morgan Library where I had my balance test. (He is back to LA on Saturday. I hope he gets the part. ) For my part I had to have electrodes on my face and stare at a light on a board and follow it with my eyes. Then they blew hot and cold air into my ears and I had to count to fifty. They even asked me what 2 + 2 was!!! Easy. But I aced the tricky 7 + 3! Now who wouldn't hire me?!

Went to the gym and got home to see this beautiful arrangement of flowers in front of my door. A first here in the Big Apple. My dear friend Lana sent them to me wishing me well and sending support. I need both! It was so thoughtful. But she is that. She used to send these lovely notes of encouragement to my mom when she was ill. She has a place setting in heaven no matter what.

I loved the flowers and it really brightened my day. How wonderful it is to be so lucky as I! Thanks, Lana! (AND I have a photo for today's post!!)

Fast

I did a one day fast today. That took 7 days of prep. I had to eat kale and cabbage and flax seeds and a whole lotta other stuff like dandelion leaves. It wasn't all bad. Even though I have to say I cheated on two of the days with caffeine and some sugar. The creator of this one day fast (that takes 11 days total to complete) says to not do the one day detox if you have cheated at all as your organs will shut down and you will die a fiery death.

I ignored her.

So today I had a cup of water alternated with a cup of cranberry juice mixed with citrus and cinnamon and nutmeg. It was surprisingly not bad at all. I was never hungry and it changed my focus away from eating to not deal towards dealing! That is cool.

So now I should have lost more weight AND my liver and colon should be so clean you could serve cheese and crackers on them.

If one were to eat cheese and crackers.

He lifts. He blows!

Today was kind of a breakthrough. I went back to bagpipe band practice.

A few days prior I was able to get a peep out of my practice chanter (the much quieter recorder-like thing that one uses to practice bagpipe music indoors!) I had not been able to make a sound previously because the left side of my face being frozen. So now I am getting back into the band.

In the movie version, Brad Pitt grabs his dusty practice chanter reluctantly off his desk while his friends encourage him. He says some line like "You don't know what it is like having a half frozen face and no job. What do I care about this thing anymore?" He is egged on. There is an unexplained wide-eyed child looking angelically up at Brad. He takes his chanter to his lips and blows. There is silence and then a huge cinematic cheer. Brad smiles and a tear roles down his face. He has made a peep.

So anyway... I went to practice up in the Bronx. It was good to see the guys again. We played around the table. I was able to hang in there until I began to sputter. But it is progress!

Sundays, my new fave Day.

Bridge in Central Park

I love Sundays. I used to love Fridays, but now that I don't drink (or work!) I love Sundays. I like to get up early and feel calm and refreshed. I know the world outside my window is awakening with joggers and brunchers and people with dogs. There is this whole vibe that happens on Sunday morning out in the world that doesn't seem to happen any other day. There is a kind of renewal and joy that I feel.

I like to get up and have coffee and then take the crosstown bus to All Souls Unitarian Church on 80th and Lex. I then usually go to the village and meet my posse for burnch, but this morning I mixed it up and met my friend Nicole and her boyfriend Eric for the later service. My friend Ellie was there too and we all sat together in this SRO church full of (here's that word again...) a diverse group of people all celebrating life, really. The minister is dying of cancer and he spoke about Love and Death this morning. It was very moving and inspiring. We then retreated to the Fellowship Hall for coffee and chat.

Afterwards I went off with some LGBTQandQ people for (here's that word again...) brunch. Hey, I am putting myself out there. It was fun. How great is life that there are always new people to meet and new stories to uncover.

Then I met my friend Nancy in front of the Met and we walked her dog and a guest dog that she was babysitting in the park. A man with a beautiful woman and their two dogs walking in Central Park. So romantic... and full of lies! We had a great visit. We even stopped a couple (wife from Los Angeles and husband from Germany) to take our photo right by the Jackie O Reservoir. The four of us shared about how much we love living in New York. I thought the joggers behind us might burst into a song and dance number right there where the Upper West Side skyline glistens beyond the magnificent lake. Whatta town!!


(Merrill here is my haircut and my latest IamSam Bell's palsy look for Spring!)

I walked back to the west side and was just content.

Then nightfall....

Je t'aime New York!!!! Je t'aime!!!

Wow! I had such a great Valentine's Day and there was no special person involved, just a LOT of special people. It was a FANTASTIC day!!

First off I got this great card from my sister Seona:


Then my most wonderful landords gave me a heart-shaped bounty of strawberries and raspberries crowned with mint leaves. How fantastic. I was so touched. AND it was on my diet to boot!


I got up in the morning and cleaned my bathroom and kitchen and swept the floors. I had not been able to do this before. Really showing signs of getting well. I was so sick of the sick-bay look of my place withe medicine bottles all over and dust and mess. So now I have a place that feels so much better.

I then went to the gym for a good workout. I dressed in a coat and tie and walked across the park to the Harmonie Club at 60th and Park Avenue. Posh. I was meeting my friend Ellie and her family there for lunch to celebrate her birthday. (Her 85th birthday. You would never know it with her energy and youthful looks. Wow. There is something in the water here. I hope I drink it.)




The Harmonie Club was built in the 1800s and is the second oldest social club in New York City. It is a beautiful place. The dining room has HIGH ceilings all wood paneled with carvings. The ceiling has gold leaf. Waiters were in tuxes and tie was required for us gentlemen. Swelligant! We had such a good time and the lunch was superb.

Then it was around the corner to 59E59 Theatre to see "Terre Haute" a play about a fictitious meeting between a Gore Vidal type and an Oklahoma bomber Timothy McVeigh type. I had no expectations, but it was excellent. A lot to chew on. Really this great discussion about conviction, intellect, passion and rage. I was so into it. As Ellie's daughter Mary said, "I could sit through it agian." And restless me felt the same way.

I walked back across Central Park to the westside and chatted with my friend Marian in Los Angeles. What a great visit we had while I got to look at horse and carriages, frozen lakes and bridges and beautiful barren trees.

At night I met with a friend for coffee and then went to this odd Valentine's cabaret put on by the Unitarian Church on the westside. It was an amateur showcase, and I can appreciate that, but I just could not get into its blend of drag, Janis Joplin, camp, gaiety and straight parents and children. I thought I was more progressive! A theme for another play, I guess. I left at intermission and happily walked home. Alone. By the majestic Museum of Natural History.

I am so grateful to be getting well and being able to engage in life again. For those of you who have not tried it, it is fantastic!

I Don't Wanna

I have this thing lately where I am starting to get better and then I feel overwhelmed by "IT ALL." I mean cleaning the apartment, looking for a job, reading the classics, getting even one ab of steel. IT ALL. I call it "homework in every subject" where I feel there is so much to do in so many areas of my life that I don't even know where to start. Did you remember to send that card? I tend to bury my head in the sand, and when there is no sand I bury it in ice cream. ( I should get really own my own sand if I want to have an ab of steel then!) Did you remember to buy sand?

I want to start this bagpiping business in order to make money while not making any professionally, but I feel I need a website with photos and video clips and then post cards and... ARRGGGHHHH. And then I go to "I can't even blow bagpipes with this Bell's palsy!" Argghhh!
Why didn't you go to grad school? ALL these East Coast people went to grad school. What were YOU doing?! You should go to grad school now. Look into grad schools.

I was out and I remembered I wanted to put the rest of the pasta sauce in the freezer because I am on this 11 day fast where I eat kale and shit and I can't eat pasta sauce, but I don't want it to go to waste like its brothers before so I must freeze it. Well I forgot because I was multi-tasking on moving papers around and packing for the gym and musing on how I could make better use of my space. And then I went to "Who would hire a guy who can't remember to put pasta sauce in the freezer."

Why do you have dinner parties? You should have dinner parties.

Life is hard. Especially when I pretend to run it.

Did you ever edit that video that you shot? And you want to work in New Media? Why don't you have shoes that work for both the park and informational interviews? Why aren't you dating?

M R I S P C T

It has been a long time since I have been in school and today I did great on my MRI test so I am pleased.

I don't mean the results were great. I have no idea yet. I wait to talk to the doc for that, but I mean I behaved admirably and took it all in stride. People change, I guess. I know I have in many ways. You have, LORD knows! In today's little lesson I will use the MRI test.

I should first explain that I needed to have this done on my head because of my Bell's palsy and vertigo issues. I had an MRI on my head years ago and it was not good. I had NO idea that I was claustrophobic at all until I got into that contraption head first. With my face only inches from the machine's parts above me, I felt like I was in my coffin. I felt buried alive. Truly. It was awful. The machine is open on both end and I knew this, but I could not see it. I felt smothered and trapped, plus I was not allowed to move anything for lengths of minutes on end while LOUD noises were played around me. It was truly one of my most awful experiences to date. I was beginning to panic and practiced what little meditation experience I had at the time. Thank God, I got through it. Then I got stuck on an elevator some time later and was almost went out of my skin. This boy does not like to be tied down. (Am I sharing too much here?)

I explained this to them today and they said they could put me on Valium. ( If it is not Vicodin it is Valium with these people!) Well they forgot and I didn't ask. In I went. Some ten years had passed and they now have a mirror you can look into to see the outside. I knew this would not help. It was the lying still that would kill me and knowing I couldn't immediately get out. But I closed my eyes and practiced the further meditation that I have learned and I breathed. It was so fine. It was almost relaxing to let go of struggling (metaphor for life much?) They had to pull me out of this cranial oven to inject me with solution so that they could highlight crap in my head. I PRAY they don't see me thoughts. Back in I went for more. I think I was in there for 30 minutes total. I lifetime to my former panicked self.

So I did it and it was fine and I was out. I want to remember that just because I was and I did, it doesn't always have to be.

Are You KIDDING Me?

I overheard a guy talking to another guy saying, "Yeah it's a long weekend." And I thought he meant he had a lot to do, like, to cram in this weekend. And then the other guy (we are on an elevator) says, "Thank God, I need it." And I am thinking he doesn't wish this guy a hellish weekend and why would he need it to be hellish for himself? Then I realized: "Oh my God, this is one of those three day weekends working people look forward to like an oasis."

And then my panic deepened when I scrambled to come up with the actual name of this three day weekend for the check-receiving crowd. "MLK Day? No, that has come and gone as it was Obama's Eve this year." "Memorial Day? No, silly, you know that is the end of May because you stood in a kilt in the hot sun blowing bagpipes at the Costa Mesa Highland Games for years while civilians BBQ'd and surfed." I realized before we hit the ground that it was President's Day.

Am I THAT out of touch with the working man that I do not even know there is a three day weekend afoot? The answer is yes.

I walked through Rockefeller Center a few weeks back and saw all these people in business clothes moving at hectic paces throughout the labyrinth that is that place. There were people in suits queuing up at the Subway sandwich shop to get a lunch to bring back to their desks. I looked at them like I was in a Working People's Zoo and they were in cages and I was behind a metal rail.

Am I so far detached from being part of the working world that I never see workers and don't know when their 3 day celebrations happen?

Oh my God, YES!!!!

Let' s hope I can be a drone with a costume on and an income REAL soon. I don't just need a check, I need a reality check.

FREE Haircut and Shave - IN HERE.

I was walking down Lexington at 73rd and came across this sign:

It was in the window of Paul Mole´ a nearly 100 year old barber shop. I thought that I would not do this, but then I thought "Everything in life is a game, a walk through, a dare" and I thought further "You are not working, you have the time and not the money, so why not?" I went upstairs. It was very swank and old school barbershop-like. I instantly loved. They were very nice as well. I thought I would be treated like a pauper, but I was not.


I wanted to try a #2 haircut. Translation; SHORT. I was nervious, but as long as I could comb the top over and it would all grow back, I went through with it. The woman (I wanted a man in a trad barber shop. I know sexist.) who cut my hair was from Peru and very nice. But I guess in Peru they don't know "save some to comb over on the top" as she flo-beed me like I was going to enlist in the Peruvian army. A 3 1/2 bald eagle. I had not had this since I was a kid. I was horrified to be honest, but she said it looked great. Of course she did.


We went to the shave next. Other than slitting my throat, this had to be internationally understood. I have never been shaved before and it was a soothing, meditative thing to do. I really enjoyed it. First there was the eucalyptus oil. then hot towels, then shave cream, more hot towels, then finally more shave cream. She scraped away for about an hour. Wow.


I left all bald and shaven. I gave her a tenner for a $100 treatment and was on my way. A fun way to spend the afternoon. But boy did my head feel cold. I pray it grows fast!

Sorry no after picture which I know kills this whole entry. I just didn't take one. I will post my face in future so keep reading.