Man. This is one bad haircut. I didn't think Masako would make such an error in judgment, especially considering I only wanted my bangs cut. She was so enthusiastic about giving me a summer cut that I sort of let her do it, so it's ultimately my fault. I have to say this is hard to face in the mirror every morning.
I have Emo hair. You know Emo Phillips, right? Star of stage and screen. Well, star of the comedy stage, and he was in VHF which is my favorite movie Weird Al ever made because it's the only movie Weird Al ever made. Anyway, he is famous for his bizarre hairstyle which looks like a very, very short pageboy or a very long tonsure. It's peculiar and unflattering and unfortunately that's exactly what I have right now. All I can do is ignore it and hope no one says a word until it grows in and looks normal about three months from now.
My other sorrow is I seem to have lost my gym card. Yes, that flattering portrait I published is gone with the wind. I remember showing it to Trish the night we went into town for JenFest 2001 and I haven't seen it since. I've been a member three whole weeks and I've already irritated the staff by losing my card. Tomorrow I'll have to pony up ten bucks and get a replacement. No id card, no towel -- and I sweat so much I have to have a towel.
The personal trainer thing is going well. Virginia and I have had two sessions. He's showed us how to use a lot of the equipment, and forced us to do sit-ups which Virginia hates with a passion usually expressed towards child molesters and tax collectors. I rather like sit-ups. I like all that P.E. class stuff. Machines kind of scare me, it seems like it would be easy to hurt yourself by using too much weight or bending the wrong way. But gravity I understand. Sit-ups, leg lifts, push-ups are familiar if painful.
I was horrified to discover I have no upper body strength when I tried one of the machines. I literally could not push the weights up from a resting position. "Wow," I said to Virginia after the workout. "I couldn't lift that one set of weights at all. I am a 90-pound weakling trapped in the body of a 200-pound woman."
"It wasn't you," she said reassuringly. "He had 45 pounds of weights on there. When he reduced it to 25 you was fine."
Well, okay then. That proves it, I'm not a total wuss. So don't kick sand in my face, pally. I'll wrestle you to the ground with my new muscles. If you really annoy me I'll give you an Emo haircut. You won't be showing your face around here for a while. Especially without your gym card.
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