fruit of my labor

Haircut

Growing up, I wasn't allowed to have short hair. I know it sounds like an odd thing to "control," but I suppose parents have forced stranger things on their children.

When I was 18, I chopped my hair off for the first time in my life. Ever since then I have gone back and forth, always wanting the opposite end of the spectrum. I cut my hair yesterday, and my family is coming to visit tonight. Coincidence?

Nope.

"I need to look punk. Quick, spit in my hair."

Last night, Eric and I went to meet David at a backyard bicycle-punk-rockabilly music show in North Portland. This is what I told Eric when I noticed my yellow leather sandals coordinated too well with my outfit as we walked towards the noise. He was willing to oblige, but I lost my nerve. Imagine that.

I have turned into a myspace addict. I don't know how it happened.

OK, yes I do. I had resisted for so long but then finally caved.

I am amazed at how it has completely transformed teenage social space. My three young sisters are logged in all the time, and I am always interested in exploring their pages, taking a peek into their complex social network 10 times the size of mine. The amount of time they have dedicated to customizing every detail is crazy. They are constantly experimenting with new painful color schemes and changing their profile picure like they should change their socks. Everything is so dramatic. One sister is in love for the first time, and her defining statement is "I love Logan!" My other sister's page is filled with flash animatin with the words "My heartbroken...........1 too many times...." running accross the screen.

Every parent should have a myspace account for this very reason. It's sort of fun to tease the kids into submission using virtual forms of public humilation. Doing so will usually result in removal of pictures.

Compared to these three girls, I was a pretty shy kid growing up. I don't think that I broke out of my shell until later in highschool with thanks to dope. But if I would have had myspace - damn! I think I would have been logged in 24-7 and completely drug free. Either that, or I would have started taking drugs way earlier. Hard to say.

In high school, the internet was something only Max Bonebright seemed to be catching onto. Robin and I would tip toe around this brave new world, sifting through archaic search engines looking for ANYTHING, music, boys in Kansas, whatever. 10 years later, I'm suprised when I meet people who don't have computers...and am somewhat suspicious of them.

I didn't take this picture

I didn't take this picture, Eric did. He's amazing. He really is. Universe, tell me how I managed to meet this man? How the hell did I get so lucky?

I am here to tell you that those cliche notions that people can complete other people, that someone can make you a better person, make you more you - Yes, it's true. That's what happens when you meet a genuinely good, generous, creative person. If you don't have that in your life, stop what you're doing and go find it right now. That's the only life advice that I will ever have the right to give, because it's what I know.

Happy birthday baby.