The Big Move

I'm finally making the move to shack up with Boyfriend. It's been a long time coming, yet it seems like it's all happening really fast. But even though it means a lot of change and a certain amount of sacrifice, it's a good decision.

So since I have some time to do the actual moving, and my new landlord is nice enough to let me move in slowly, my goal is to do one moving thing a day. Today I packed up some books to give away and cleaned up my small bookshelf. I never buy books (too cheap), yet somehow I have tons of them. Same with clothes. And furniture. Seriously, where did all this crap come from?

Look At Me

Today, for the first time, Boyfriend and I took his recently restored classic truck to town and really hung out near a bunch of people. Typically, we both drive silver sedans that are almost indistinguishable from hundreds of other vehicles.

It's different being in an attention-getting car. People stare as you drive by - not meanly, just curiously. And when I wave, they seldom wave back ... they're too busy checking out the wheels. Then when we get out, people want to look at the truck and talk about the truck. I am almost completely unqualified to talk about the truck, but since I'm smoother with strangers in general I do my best.

But overall, it's kind of a special feeling to have people look at something you've worked hard at. And it gives me a general sense of community, though we're far from active in the classic car circuit. It's a subtle way to get attention ... subtlety isn't usually my friend, but I sort of like it.

Frozen

If I could freeze time, I would consider doing it right now.

Why?

Because my bangs are perfect. They have a very short time between being too short (short bangs on me look like forehead parenthesis) and hanging in my eyes, and today is the day. Overall hair is good.

And I tried on a dress that used to be too small, and it looks fantastic on me. It's about a month until its big debut. Maybe perfect bangs and dress will de-emphasize the fact that I am the spinster sister.

Or maybe the fact that I am drunk will de-emphasize that.

White Skin Privilege

So I'm full-on ginger: red hair, pale skin, blue eyes, freckles, the whole thing. Generally, I like the distinctiveness of the red hair, and I don't mind the overall effect.

Yesterday, I biked a little over 10 miles. Walked around, looked at cars, chatted, ate a hot dog. Came home, and my face is all gritty so I decide to wash it. I rub a wet washcloth on my face, and I look at the cloth and noticed I there is quite a bit of rubbed-off sunscreen. So clearly I adequately applied. Yet my nose is distinctly pink. Sigh. Seems a girl can't win.

And let's not even talk about the burn on the back of my hands, which is ridiculous.