Eccentric Flower:199905/cameraphobia hair and email
From Eccentric Flower
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may tenth, slightly cameraphobia, hair, and email I learned today that people get suspicious when you walk around with a camera. I was out taking random area photos today in the lovely weather - first day for sandals of the year, and with any luck I won't have to take them off until November! I do get the occasional weird look just because I look weird, of course. I am particularly unhappy with my hair at the moment, for example - I'm sure it looks very bizaaah. But some of these looks were definitely along the unspoken lines of, "Hmm, that person's not going to try to take my picture, I hope." I mean, I avoid having candid pictures of myself taken because I don't like the way I look, but I didn't expect everyone else to have this phobia. Besides, I never photograph people. Too much legal entanglement. Trees and buildings seldom require you to obtain a release from them. - - - Speaking of my hair, I was in the drugstore with Nonelvis and Judy today - Judy and I were looking through nail polish happily while Nonelvis was getting impatient with us - Spot The Non-Femme In This Picture - and eventually ended up in the aisle with the hair ties and barettes and all those other thingies. Look, I don't even know where half of those things are supposed to go! I couldn't put barettes or butterfly clips in my hair if my life depended on it. And the thing is, my hair only looks decent these days while I'm holding parts of it back, in the mirror - but I don't know how to get it to do that with clips and things. I thought this was some kind of magic knowledge that girls got automatically. However, since I can walk in heels better than Nonelvis, I probably should have known that was wrong. Judy disabused me of this notion. Nonelvis (the butch) said that there may have been a class on this, but she deliberately skipped that one. I need a trainer. Miss Vera is too expensive, alas. I need a female friend - a femmy one who is articulate enough - to teach me some of this stuff. And I need it now. Before my hair drives me over the edge. Some would say that it's too late. - - - Another phenomenon I've noticed - been noticing for several weeks - is that my regular correspondence goes on hiatus every weekend, as if most of my regular penpals only write while they're at work. Meanwhile, the weekend is the point when the journals list kicks into high gear - five messages a day during the week can become forty messages a day on Saturday and Sunday. I don't quite get it. - - - I am just about ready to write about weddings again. I've cleaned out the email backlog (if I didn't reply to you about it, accept my thanks) and have sorted my thoughts - - and realize just how doomed I am. But I don't want to end on too sour a note tonight, so I'll wait until tomorrow to reply. Meanwhile, you can go read the new Clio item I put up yesterday, as described in the previous postcard. I thought there was going to be more smut for you this weekend too, but my creative processes say not. Oh, well.
© columbine |
