Things That Make Me Insane-ly Happy:

Copy. Machine. Paper. Jams.

Papercuts resulting from not one, but a sheaf of 45 pages at once.

People who honk their horns all the way down the street behind the idiot who purposely goes 5mph.

Copy. Machine. Paper. Jams.

Emote!

"Repugnance is the emotional expression of deep wisdom." L. Kass

I haven't decided if I'm referring to myself as wise or repug'd. I think because I have repugnance for certain issues, then I have some semblance of wisdom. I have repugnance for bad smells. Some people love bad smells, like my friend Leslie, she seeks out foul smelling odiforousness. Do not get it. Sometimes I even see something from far away that I think might smell bad, and I have to hold my breath the entire way to the object until I pass it or pass out. I just sprayed my air freshener, I kid you not, just because we're talking about smelly things, or rather I'm typing and you're reading.

But let's get back on topic, shall we? I think what Mr. Kass is trying to tease out here is that we shouldn't punish ourselves for feeling extremely strongly about something. It kills me when people want to stay in the lines all the time with their emotions and thoughts, and especially their ideas and beliefs regarding large ethical issues and problems. Be active! Be reactive! Color outside the lines, because you only live once (unless you're Tom Cruise and then you might have all the lives of everyone ever born in the future, ever) and you don't get a second chance to say something important at the right time. I think the most prolific lives have been of those willing to lay it all out there and defend their rationale. I love to read in general, but I truly love to read people's stories about how their feelings have shaped them. It's funny how your life can change by sheer emotion.

My brain is full. Thank you, but no thanks.

Congratulations me! I've made it through 2/3 of my certificate course in Bioethics! And I couldn't help but identify with my mentor, Viktor Frankenstein, on this occasion:

'A human being in perfection ought always to preserve a calm and peaceful mind and never to allow passion or a transitory desire to disturb his tranquillity. I do not think that the pursuit of knowledge is an exception to this rule.'

Word up Franky, word up.

The Color of a Firetruck on Fire

As sometimes happens during the course of one's washing, conditioning, blow drying, straightening, decapitation, etc. daily regime, one's hair may need color treatment and/or cutting. This is not out of the ordinary. Plenty of hair stylists make a good living performing these services for their customers. Where I ran into a problem last night, was attempting to secure these services at a Styling School. As in Academia of the Absence of Hair Care Skills. What followed was a sad tale indeed. Children: avert your eyes.

I have very long hair. Grotesquely, inexplicably, long, Professional-Harpist hair. For no apparent reason, other than that someday I will be donating it to Locks of Love, I continue to let it grow to its heart's content. (I guess that is an apparant reason, but I digress.) When I emotionally detach from it, which is probably going to happen sooner rather than later, it will be going to a better head. Also, as the weak and impressionable spirit that I am, I have subscribed to the dreaded Highlighting Cycle of Hell, for the past 10 years of my adolescence, (I'm only 26 so I am still adolescent). Thus you have my head up to date, that is, before last night.

Last night, I met Daley (just a warning that I am fascinated with her name so hereafter I will be using it often). Daley was very sweet, very nice, and had good hair, but nonetheless, she was still enrolled in said "Academia". And boy does she have some extensive learning to do. We started out great; communicating my idea to return to my hair's natural color and state was extremely easy. Daley found my hair color on her little weird, freakish hair-color-wheel of fake hair tufts, and we were off! A quick check in with her 'professor' for the okay and we began our journey. I should have been suspicious of the heat emanating from the first bowl of hair colorant that Daley approached me with...

After the first 'process' of color, Daley put a second 'process' of darker color over it. I wonder if they call it a 'process' so you don't flip out when you see yourself in the giant mirror looking like they dunked your scalp in Ketchup. I sat still and quiet as a mouse for the 20 minutes needed for my scalp to burn off/colorant to work it's magic. We washed and rinsed and washed some more. Then over to the chair for blow drying, and wha...? I'm sorry, WHAT? Who in the lord's name signed off on the authorization to turn my head into a GIANT TOMATO with 3rd degree SUNBURN? All I could do was point and stare, mouth agape, chin slack on the parquet floor.

Daley. Dear, sweet, darling, anencephalic Daley. Oh, how I hope you have an advanced directive. Because when I finish with you, Daley, you will not be able to communicate your wishes about the ventilator that you are strapped to and the sedatives they must keep you on to stay alive due to the coma I will put you in. Daley.

I have decided to spare Daley for five days. After which, if my hair has not resumed some sense of the character it was pre-Daley, I may have another visit with the Dale-ster. Who may then have a visit with the Dump-ster. Also, because I refuse to make a public appearance before then, should someone mistakingly throw a bucket of water at my face to put out the blaze.

Is it hot in here?

Where Doe$ It All Come From?

To ponder the amounts of money in this city gives me great grief at times. I just learned from a colleague that attended a benefit for her son's french private grade school that said school raised $1.4 million in one evening to spend toward the school's curricula, beautification, and new prison bars. Now, I'm thinking...

So I'll just throw this out and see if we get any snags.

My husband and I would like to invite everyone to a silent auction for Our Cause. Several of the items being auctioned off will include A Weeks Stay at our Brooklyn Apartment, provided you take care of our dog and water the plants. Another much-sought after prize will be a collection of X-Box Games, without instructions or cases. Light hors dourves will be served, eh-hem pigs in blankets, as well as an open bar, byob. Please bring low denomination bills and/or checks. We apologize for the inconvenience, but do not except credit cards at this time. Thank you and have a splendiforous day.