Special Ingredients 24 August 1998

Purple Hair Report: Hmmm. Well, some blue now, yes. Bluer patches here and there. More interesting if only for the what-happened? aspect. Having strange experience with the conditioner, though. This is some new stuff that I am trying on recommendation from my last haircutting person, and it's making my hair stand up! That is shampoo's job. Conditioner makes it fall down, then you have to put gel on it to prop it back up. Now I'm all confused. Final judgement: this is not the best coloring experience, but it's survivable. Not exactly the effect I was hoping for. Shrug.

Here I am, back in the sweet metal breezes of my workplace. Running a Quark script on one machine, going through mail & watching IRC & reading back entries of Suck & writing this on the other, while eating a messy and sometimes unpleasant tuna sandwich and falling asleep to boot. Because it's important to be busy, at least from 10 feet away.

"Jesus is coming. Look busy." Someone on a mailing list the other day was saying their bumper sticker that used that phrase pissed off the local Christians. Which I found odd because I've only ever seen it used by Christians. It's that "Hey, guess your old man's not so bad after all, eh? Heh heh heh." kind of humor for them.

If you are of a certain age and background, then perhaps like me, you have a fair number of fillings in your teeth. My understanding is that modern kids have teeth naturally made out of ultralight composites first developed in the laboratories of America's aerospace industry. Or something like that.

But if you do have fillings, when you're eating, say, deli food or burritos, and you suddenly become aware of a small rock-like thing in your mouth: do you take it out and look at it to see if it's a tooth bit? If you do, can you ever tell for sure? I can't. Well, not unless it's like half a tooth or something grossly obvious. But that hasn't happened yet. And that's why I'm trying to remember to be polite. But those little bits of something - rock or bone or what? Is that filling or sand?

Tongues are useless as diagnostic probes because they believe anything and they're always exaggerating. Without one of those dentist's mirrors, you certainly can't see anything, and even with one you don't know how to interpret what you see. It's like when the hair stylist shows you the back of your head. How do you know what you think of it? You never see the back of your head, you have no context here.

I'm supposed to have confidence in a dentistry chain named "Smile America"??? I don't think so. I'll go there and they'll put the nitrous on and the next thing I'll know, I'll be on a bus to Guatemala with a bunch of happy young white people singing hymns. Maybe that's the point, though. Make the external aspects of the trip so scary, that if all that happens is that it hurts like a sonofabitch, you count yourself lucky.

Other news of catching up with the world:

• This sucks, but what can you do?
• The camera was here! Look for more lo-res excitement in future entries.
• The other mystery package was not. In theory, it will show up tomorrowday.
• My office crush still looks at me with a very strange expression. It was kind of comforting. She's not one to be distracted by superficial changes like hair color. She knows that there's something wrong with me on the inside - where it counts.

See, this is much better.

Willfully blind self-indulgent nebbish or amusingly quirky old coot? And how bout that local sports team? Discuss among yourselves.

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All names are fake, most places are real, the author is definitely unreliable but it's all in good fun. Yep. © 1998-1999 Lighthouse for the Deaf. All rights reserved and stuff. The motto at the top of the page is a graffito I saw on Brunswick Street in Melbourne.