Friday, March 17, 2006

As Bonnie was very correct in predicting, I did not go to the interview I had this morning for a dreadful job. It was to work for a medical answering service in Long Island City, and really, I would rather fret about not having money than having to work in a less than ideal location doing a less than ideal job. To be honest, though, much of the reason was because I didn't want to get out of bed when my alarm went off.

Instead, I drank coffee and listened and am still listening to Sing it Again, Rod, an amazing album that my mom used to play a lot before she started playing Rod's new albums in which he sings the American Standards. Seriously, every time I have been home recently she has played those albums and I find them slightly dreadful. But man, listening to this good music with my windows open even though it is rather chilly out and having the sun shine brightly through my living room window, through my kitchen window, the sun soaking my apartment, meeting somewhere near me layed out on the couch, this music, the coffee, the Arts section of the paper.

When I finally did wake up this morning, not too terribly late, at nine, but too late to shower and make it to this interview, I felt my hair, how frizzy, dry, and haylike it was. I was really discouraged. Even though I know what type of hair I have and what happens if I let it grow beyond a certain length, that is just forms into a big ball of frizz, not even a decent 'fro. And for some reason, I always think that I will be able to grow my hair out. I see other people with thick curly hair that they have managed to grow out and think that I can make my hair like that. It takes too much effort to even make my hair somewhat like that, lots of conditioner, Frizz-ease, and yet still by the time I wake up, there is a bird's nest on top of my head. So after I ate breakfast and with music blaring in the background, shirt removed, standing in shorts, I let my chopped off hair fall all over my shoulders and it felt so good. This might be why I grow my hair out, or try to, just so I can experience days like today, that free feeling of seeing a couple inches of curls, a thick pile of them no longer on your head, feeling so much lighter, so much better, new, clean.

And yes, my haircut is no good, and not even a hip bad haircut way, it's just no good, but I don't give a shit cause I feel good. Damn good. This music, this sunshine, this haircut.

I watched Goodfellas last night, and holy motherfucking shit, that is one good movie. Everything about it. The opening credits, the editing, the constant freeze frames, the acting, the soundtrack - so fucking good - Joe Pesci! Man, I think I might have to watch it again before I return it this afternoon. I am in awe of Scorsese right now for orchestrating all of this and making it not only work, but fucking soar. I love when human beings make amazing things and make it look easy. That Steadicam shot of the couple entering the Copacabana is crazy that that was pulled off so perfectly. Seeing other humans do things like this makes you realize how lazy you are and that greatness is possible, that we, as humans, are capable of a lot more than we sometimes imagine. It's a really good feeling. I don't know. I have to watch this again right now.

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