The Fella has got hair.  It was long, it was soft, it was beautiful.

He’s cut it off.  You can see in this picture his ponytail falling down his back and you can imagine what he looked like when it was loose.  It was long.

Now, the thing is: I haven’t seen him since before he chopped off the tail.  I haven’t even seen a picture.  I don’t know what he looks like now.

Last night I had a dream that we were somewhere with other people from work (and I woman I know from Girl Scouts) and his hair was short.  It was mullet-like (he doesn’t have a mullet) and it was weird, but not that weird: the Fella with short hair.  He was still moustachioed and soul patched so all was ok with the world.  But the short hair wasn’t so bad.

I went to a bachelorette party on Saturday night and I am still sore from it.  This is what I get for wearing heels and participating in the pole dancing class.

Sometimes.  Only sometimes.  Do I wish I my life had taken a different direction so me in high heels wouldn’t be so crazy pants (not like stripper direction — although they probably have the best shoes…).  I hope someone took a picture of me in my shiny outfit so that the people I work with can get a nice laugh when they see it on FB.  None of them believe me when I tell them how I can be outside of work.

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Guy I worked with one summer knocked up his girlfriend and they had a baby and they were over the moon about it.  And everyone who knew them were over the moon about it.  I was over the moon about it (mostly because this guy I know would make a really weird, but ultimately really cool dad), but then the baby died the end of last year and everyone is really sad.

But I just found out that he died in an inflatable kiddie pool in the backyard.

My heart breaks for this guy.  

And just want to remind people everywhere to never ever leave your children unsupervised in water of any sort.  Seriously.  It takes less water than people realize to drown.

My oldest friend, a woman I rarely see in person these days - we do most of our communicating and catching up via FB - is getting married in about a month.  I am in the wedding party and I haven’t seen her in about two years.  I am going to dinner with her tonight and I couldn’t be more excited.  I’ve been trying to get together with her for about a year and a half now.

When we were in middle school (or roughly fourth to eighth grade) she was really my best friend.  I had other friends I thought were my best friends, but really it was Amy.  We didn’t hang out much outside of school, or even much outside violin class for that matter, but she was one of the only kids at that time who actually cared about being my friend.

I remember when I realized this and was astonished to know that I could be so oblivious.  That I, a really very intelligent child, could completely misunderstand that just because you’ve known these girls since kindergarten doesn’t mean that you still have anything in common in the 6th grade.  And just because I met Amy after I met those girls didn’t mean she couldn’t be one of my best friends.  She was, in fact, a much, much better friend to me at that point than my previously considered ‘best friends’.

Thinking about it, now, so much years later, I’ve come to realize that my elementary school friendships had actually died in elementary school and my middle school friends were amazing boys and girls who I (now) wish I had spent more time with outside of class, even though it’s also true that some of those friendships were over in high school and I had made new friends yet again.

It is funny to me that this is just something you have to learn.  There are going to be people who it is easy to stay in contact with, to continue the friendship long after you are no longer living in the same place and doing the same things.  There are other people with whom it will be work and eventually you realize you don’t have anything in common with those people anymore and as much as you still love them, you just have nothing to talk about.

I miss all those boys and girls and men and women I don’t talk to anymore and I am eternally happy that I still talk to the ones I do.  I love my friends, past and present.  Recently I learned that just because I haven’t seen someone since we graduated high school doesn’t mean I don’t still care deeply for them; I can still feel pain on their behalf and have hope for them.  

And it’s really quite arbitrary how many years you’ve known a person (you can know someone for ten years and not know them as well as someone you met six months ago) but I am very excited to be going out tonight with a woman I can say I have known for nearly twenty years.  She’s an amazing person and I’m very glad we’ve managed to stay friendly all this time.

My two year old nephew is the best.  He builds a completely nondescript tower out of pre-school Legos and suddenly it’s a bunny and it’s hopping around the house.

Sometimes, I could watch him play for hours.

I think I just got me some temporary work!  I love it!  Cold hard cash will be earned because of my availability and willingness to work odd hours for a limited amount of time.

Now if the synagogue will hire me for the same reasons for the same amount of time my financial crisis might not be quite the crisis it’s been making itself out to be.

I’ve decided my friend’s dad/the pastor of my parents church is the human version of Kermit the Frog.

There’s really little in life cuter than my 2 year old nephew singing.

Sometimes I go on FB and look at pics of the Tall Mustachioed Man from when I first met him to try and gauge what has changed since then, besides actually getting to know him, and I think it might actually be the facial hair.  

I look at his beardless, moustacheless face and nothing.  I am not attracted to that baby-face whatsoever.  And he has thinned out a little in the past couple years and lost the round baby-face, but the ridiculous moustache and the chin whiskers definitely add a little something something to the attractive-factor of this young man.

Logically I know he’d still be the same person if he were to shave, but I really don’t want him too…. 

#Applied for a job at the COOP today; forgot they sold themselves to #BarnesAndNoble

#Watching #2BrokeGirls reminded me of my financial situation

#Fuck I miss him

#Tried to rewrite #TheDresdenDolls #JeepSong to make it about #TheMailmail…. again

#Have got to stop biting my nails

#Have got to start writing more

#Maybe I should buy some red wine while I still have the cash to pay for a bottle

The Tall Mustachioed Man came out to Boston for a visit this past week.  He brought me a Christmas present.  Totally unexpected.  I didn’t get him anything and we didn’t talk about it and I certainly wasn’t going to be upset if I didn’t get anything — I’d rather he spent money coming to see me than on things.

But he gave me the most perfect presents (I like a man who trusts his instincts): He got me a copy of his favorite book by one of my least favorite authors: Cannery Row by John Steinbeck.  But I’ve promised to give Steinbeck another chance and he assures me it’s not The Grapes of Wrath (which I hated) or Of Mice and Men (which I also hated).  He also made me a pair of earrings.  Not surprising considering this is one of the things he does.  He makes wooden bowls and spoons and earrings.  Mine are narwhals.  It was meant as a joke because there was one night I spent over an hour reading about Narwhals online and then I bought an overpriced coffee table book about those magnificent whales at a used book store.  Little does he know I’m going to wear them all the freakin time.

Whenever I unearth my camera I will absolutely take a picture to share with you fine people.