That's pretty awesome.

I'll just link to what I've done lately. (We're building a home for this lady, who's been battling sickle cell anemia her whole life.)

Oh, and my son helped. :)

....(man, can't help it).....


I shot a man in Reno, just to watch him die. True story. Just try and refute it, mothafucka.


...(sorry)....

I did a sappy shmoopy thing, which I hardly ever do: I got the new bf a toothbrush to stay at my house and I wrote a note on it from the toothbrush to him welcoming him to our bathroom.

That it totally awesome! The best I did today was going on a long romantic walk around North Beach, Fisherman's Wharf, and the Marina with my partner. Not places we usually go, but it was fun to feel like a tourist in our own city. And we saw the Bush Man at work, which is always a blast.

Oh, wait! I don't know if this qualifies as awesome or not, but I gave myself a haircut while drunk. It was fun, and turned out just as horribly as you might imagine. I went to a barber today, asked him to fix it, and now I'm the proud owner of a near buzz-cut. My hair has NEVER been this short, at least since I had hair.

Somehow, this makes me feel all giddy and happy. I don't know why, but it does.

Oh, wait! I don't know if this qualifies as awesome or not, but I gave myself a haircut while drunk.

I don't know if this qualifies as awesome, but I gave myself a haircut while not drunk. It looks pretty darned good, much to my surprise. I was certain I'd go skulking off to the stylist for a pixie cut this week. Instead, I'm preening in shop windows.

I paid for a haircut! Pixie cut like always. It's a little shorter than normal but I like it.

Tomorrow I am going to make snickerdoodles and they will be delicious.

Oh, wait! I don't know if this qualifies as awesome or not, but I gave myself a haircut while drunk.

This is always a good idea. ALWAYS It's like a time-dilation haircut. You always like it in retrospect.

I ate homemade chocolate ice cream that was REALLY good. Ikkyu2 should probably get the credit for the ice cream, but I'm going to claim credit for being awesome enough to know to eat it.

I found Fresno's best sushi bar.

I got to hang 4 new pictures with at a show with my art ladies. There were 9 of us total. Getting to help hang the show was learning experience, to say the least, because of all the different sizes and styles. Our general theme was "mandalas as personal symbols."

fbk, I totally want to get a hair cut. I have hair down to my butt, but can't find anyone willing to take it as a donation since there's a lot of grey.

ANY recommendations are appreciated. I'm tired of carrying all this weight around. I wash and condition. I don't color. I don't even blow dry. I brush regularly.

Hey, I'm about to cut my own hair, again. It turned out okay last time, but pretty boring, and it needs a little shape now that's it's grown out a bit. I usually start out sober whilst cutting my hair, but as there will be wine and frustration involved, I anticipate a bit of tipsy hacking involved...

In terms of awesomeness, I went to France on Saturday and bought cheese at a world-famous shop. Boy, was it stinky in there! The cheese is SO.GOOD.

Put on my last big event as a Slow Food leader, at least during this phase of my life, after a 3-year tenure. Big Thanksgiving-style potluck of local foods, distributed info on where and when to buy from local farms throughout the winter, and LT collected canned and dry-goods donations for the food pantry.

Also, had a fun spontaneous couple of beers with some friends after.

Finally, made a really yummy pumpkin cake last night.

I just put a new water jug on the water cooler! Without spilling all the water on the floor! I feel STRONG! Now if only my arms would stop shaking.

Rocked out with my cock out as lead singer for one song with my friend's punk band, the Mango Wranglers, Friday night at a local bar. I made it up on the spot, and it was an hommage to 80's Hair Metal, called "Gonna Crash Out Hard Tonight!"

Night before last I stepped out to pick up some pretzels and ran into my upstairs neighbor, who was out smoking cigarettes and crying over boyfriend troubles; I invited her over and we finished her bottle of zubrówka, and she talked about him and honesty and I talked about friends and ostriches and sleeping on haystacks full of vipers, and I was in the middle of telling her about a wild bicycle ride through a plastics factory when she passed out on my couch. I said, "Hey, did you just fall asleep while I was talking?"

"Are you really asleep?

"Cool." So I turned the lights down in my apartment, spread my great-grandmother's blanket over her (it's thin wool, great for a nap) and read the newspaper. When her breathing was deep and regular, I plugged my guitar in and practiced quietly while she slept soundly. Eventually I started singing (once I start playing long enough, I feel an uncontrollable urge to sing), and after seven or eight songs, I had gotten around to a favorite, "Hang on sloppy, sloppy hang on / To the way you want to be..." when she awakened and asked me what happened with the bike ride.

"Did you sleep well? No, it's only nine o'clock; I poured you a glass of water... so this was back on the kibbutz, my buddies and I, deep in our cups, had borrowed someone's bike, and all three of us were on it -- Paul was in the saddle pedaling, Phil was somehow riding the top tube, or maybe he was sitting on the handlebars, I don't know; and I was standing on the rear hub and leaning on Paul's shoulders -- and we went careening down the hill straight through the wide open door of the plastics factory.

"Immediately all the engineers in the factory were shouting at us, jumping into and quickly out of our way, trying to get us to stop, throwing laundry baskets and lawn chairs (that's what the factory produced) at us, and as we raced through the factory Paul saw we were running out of room and tried to make a right turn on the greasy floor. Which of course was a total failure, the bike skidded out from underneath us and we all hit the side of a huge injection molder with a giggling crunch.

"The engineers were still after us, throwing plastic and trying to kick us, so we were up in a second, and of course in our drunkenness we weren't going to leave a man behind, or do the smart thing, leave the bike behind and run away... we were almost paralyzed with laughter and I don't know how we did it but we all three climbed back on the bike and wobbled our way out of the factory. Such a pitiful scene as we made had a few of the engineers themselves in stitches, and we managed to dodge plastic items and boots and get up enough speed to sail out into the night.

"The next day, Yoram, the guy in charge of divvying up jobs for the volunteers, was livid when he called us into his office and threatened us with deportation. He said, 'You'll never work in the plastics factory again!' The three of us high fived each other and shouted, 'Yesssss!' He went even whiter with rage and shouted, 'That's it! You'll all work in the plastics factory every day for the entire month!'"

My friend laughed and stretched and said, "Thanks, Hugh, for the stories and the concert; I think I'm gonna go to bed now." And so she went upstairs.

I thought it was all pretty awesome.

I put the Internet away, and got a lot done, including handwriting a letter. I think the trick to actually getting a letter in the mail is to not reread it so the perfectionism doesn't have a chance to prohibit the letter from ever getting mailed, and to put it in the mailbox immediately.

SWIM NOODLE BRAWL

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