It's been a quiet week in Lake Woebegon, my hometown.

I'm not sick anymore, or at least I'm mostly not sick. I still have that horrible cough, the sort that crops up whenever I laugh or breathe in sharply. The kind that's embarrassingly loud in a bar or movie theatre, and which prompts people to tell me I really ought to quit smoking - always great to hear when you don't smoke.

But things aren't all bad. Chris's birthday is rapidly approaching, and I decided to give him his present early as I'm bad at keeping secrets and he's bad at not opening boxes in November. I got him an Xbox 360 with appropriate accessories and just a couple games to start with - Knights of the Old Republic (since we skipped the original Xbox altogether and he's never played it) and Gears of War. I'll let you know how we like them.

I also cut off almost all my hair on Tuesday, which is always extremely satisfying. It had gotten quite long, probably halfway down my back or even longer, which is something I was fond of in high school but is ultimately a huge pain in the ass. I just do not have the patience to deal with it and take care of it. I end up tying it back all the time, which sort of defeats the purpose of having long hair to begin with. So I cut it off. Or, more accurately, I paid a nice old Italian man to do it for me at Astor Place Hair. I don't have a current picture, but it's a great deal like this. The front's a big longer and I've parted it on the side, but it's the same sort of shape.

I got the chance to show off my new hair when I went out drinking with friends last night at what turned out to be the strangest bar I know of in Manhattan. It's tucked right smack dab in the middle of the Upper East Side - one of those places that has nothing more than a sign and a door at street level. You have to go up three flights of stairs to even get to the bar itself, which is a long and very narrow space. And then the whole establishment looks like it was transplanted from another town altogether - it's a dive bar, but it's nothing like your standard New York City dive bar. Aluminum pie plates full of popcorn, a pair of very independent bar kittens, and remarkably cheap beer all contribute to an atmosphere that is utterly without pretense - maybe that's what's so puzzling about it. But the beer is good as well as cheap and the view through the single enormous window overlooking the street is very striking at night, so what more could you ask for?

Anyhow, that's all I've got for you right now. I'm still having trouble accepting the fact that Thanksgiving is next week, but I suppose I'll come to terms with it eventually.

Comments

[Tiffany]

If your hair looks the way i imagine it, it's gotta look hella cute.