A Misunderstanding Over An Inch

I've been "blogging" on the internet, off and on, in one form or another for the past 8 years. It has been a strange and fascinating experience; I have met some of my closest friends online (not to mention a woman who changed my world). I occasionally go back and revisit old posts from the past, and it amazes me how much my life has changed. I have charted the course of my kids growing up, jobs coming and going, and even the crash and burn of my marriage, every word and emotion saved for posterity.

The problem with that unnamed site is, I feel like I've become a "character" over there, almost like the protagonist in one of my novels. For a while there I wrote amazingly honest entries straight from the heart, but then there was drama and everything spiraled out of control. I clammed up. It took me a long time to begin writing again, but to this day I rarely open up the way I used to. Instead, I play the role that my readers expect. I am the funny guy. The liberal. The pseudo-hippie. The writer. The hiker/photographer/chronicler of the Great Outdoors. The spork fanatic. All of those roles do help to define me, but it's like I exaggerate them over there. Even the name of my blog is telling - "Here We Are Now, Entertain Us." I was poking fun at society's need for constant gossipy entertainment (and also quoting the late, great Kurt Cobain), but the truth is, in the end I was writing to entertain a large group of people. The only real, honest, soul-searching entries I could muster up were private ones. Well, I don't want to pay $30 a year to entertain people, when I can write for free and from the heart right here. And besides, I found less and less time to devote to the other site. Facebook came along and swept me up in its grip, and the people that I truly want to keep up with I follow there, through simple 180-character status updates. In the frenzied early 21st century, FB is perfect for those with short attention spans or not enough time on their hands. I fall into the latter group (but sometimes, the former). So, to make a long story short - I'm going to give this site a shot.

This time, I'm writing for me.

And, well, maybe someday for the masses when my book is published and I can officially declare myself an "author." But I'll cross that bridge when I come to it.

Today has been a quiet Saturday. Actually, I slept in later than I have in years, awakened by a text at 8:48. Normally, I'm up by 8:00 on the weekends. I was surprised when I looked at the time. And kinda wished I'd made it 'til 9:00, just to say I did.

I made coffee, checked gmail/Facebook/the weather. Fed the cat, showered, grabbed a bite to eat, went out yard saling. Didn't find anything to buy. Stopped by Big Lots to look around and bought a few things at Fred Meyer. Came home, watched an episode of Ghost Hunters International. I'm planning on ordering pizza tonight and drinking some of that Bacardi Hurricane mix that's been taking up space in the fridge for the past month. Oh, and watching Fight Club. Can't believe I've never seen it before! In other words, it's been a typical kid-free Saturday.

I got a haircut yesterday after work, and I am not pleased with the result. Apparently there was a communication misunderstanding; I wanted her to take an inch off, and she thought I wanted to leave an inch on. Sheesh. I only realized midway through the haircut what was happening, and by then it was too late. To make matters worse, the girl was slow as molasses. Which meant I was forced to sit there for an interminably long amount of time watching helplessly as way more hair than I'd wanted to hit the floor. It's short now, really short, the kind of short that will spark all sorts of "Oh, wow, you got a haircut!" comments at work come Monday. I keep touching my hair and groaning when I do, and if I happen to catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror, it's still a bit of a shock. Oh, well. In about three weeks it'll end up being the length I had originally wanted in the first place.

Last night, mom and dad treated me to a "wine maker's dinner" at Rusty Grape vineyards. I'd never been there before. It was billed as a dinner under the stars but at 7 PM there were no stars to speak of, just a bright blue sky and a fiery midsummer sun. They turned on twinkly lights that were strung overhead, but the ambience was lost. It would have been perfect in late September or early October. There was live entertainment, a jazzy trio with a female singer who had nice legs, but the wine was just okay and the meal a disappointment. A cold chicken breast with diced tomatoes and green olives, a dab of cold rice pilaf, and a small leafy green salad. At least the cinnamon scone with whipped cream and fresh strawberries and blueberries was delicious. I just don't think it was worth $55 (!) and mom and dad were clearly of the same opinion. They kept apologizing and promising to take me to another one sometime, but they don't have to be sorry - I still appreciated it and had a good time.