Tuesday, March 31, 2009

This Ain't no Disco

Today I got my haircut next to a handsome man who said he worked in Mutual Funds. I laughed at myself when I realized I had no idea what that meant, but admired his beautiful face through the mirror unabashedly as I changed the frequency.  Instead, I tuned in to listen to the stylist who told me about his last visit to a wal-mart back home in Phoenix where he saw a man dressed as Santa wheeling around the store on a motorized scooter as children asked to sit on his lap and request gifts for Christmas. We laughed together, Travis and I. My haircut went well, and now my face is properly framed. I drove through Hollywood, accidentally turning up Curson. Silly girl, Curson doesn't meet up with Franklin. I turn too early. And I try to turn soft and lovely any time I have the chance. Making very calculated plans, and eating a sandwich, I dreaded, but yet prepared, and it worked out just find because I found center. There is some strength in my core muscles. Finally. 8 weeks in. Later I giggled over frozen yogurt, and gossip, and didn't have to prove a smile, because it was there all along. The combination of green tea, mango and strawberries was divine, and I couldn't get enough, but knew I couldn't get anymore. And that day I drove up the street until the sun came up over Santa Monica Boulevard. 

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