I keep feeling the need to sit down and write (or type) but I never seem to get around to doing it, or when I do, my mind alternates between completely blank and way too much stuff to make sense of.
I got carded for cigarettes for the first time in a while, probably something to do with having had most of my hair cut off, so now it's in a cropped curly/wavy messy but very stylish arrangement. Apparantly I look a great deal younger now. It's a little odd to realise that somewhere along the way I crossed the line into thinking of looking younger as a good thing, rather than an inconvenience.
It's near impossible to describe hairstyles beyond "short" vs "long" so: it's short, decidedly shorter than anything that could be called a "bob", but defintely not "cropped" or butch (thanks for that one Marc). I'm also having to fight an urge to make all kinds of silly references to my friend Bob, to whom I had to explain the meaning of the word "bob" in a hairdressing context.
Matt got all his furniture moved in and arranged in his new place, so he's now living about a block and a half away from me, and so is all his stuff. No more hour round-trip drives to pick up something forgotten at the other place. Coincidentally it's three months to the day since I started the move out of my last apartment. I can't believe it's been a quarter of a year since I moved onwards and upwards from the fourth floor to the almost-basement.
I've had a couple of reminders recently of what life was like for me a year ago, indeed, through the whole past year, all the ongoing changes; some gradual, some huge leaps that caught me by surprise weeks later when I realised how different everything had become, and yet how natural the new situation felt. Of course it's a great big plum pudding mix of external and internal changes: losing weight/gaining muscle, throwing out some long standing inhibitions that were way past their sell by date, gaining strengths, finding some good friends, moving into my own place...and I've lost verbal steam. I started talking guitar with Matt and misplaced my thread. Oh well. Time to get a shower.