“Did you put purple back in your hair again?”
“Yep.”
“Can I ask why?”
“Yep.”
“OK, you going to tell me why then?”
“Aside from the fact that I can, it started from a conversation in the beauty salon.”
“A conversation?”
“Well more like a lecture.  They were talking about the unnatural colors, and how manic panic sells in the mall as well as the salon I go to.”  He gives me a look as if to ask what that has to do with anything, so I continue.  “I just had to tell (them scrunching up my face) You kids have it sooo easy today! (Lifting my index finger) Why, back in MY day when we wanted unnatural colors in our hair, we had to take the PATH train from NJ into NYC, then take the subway across town to Greenwich village.  Walk a blocks to a brownstone to go to a basement to get our colors.  THEN we had to re-color our already blonded hair every week because the color would wash out!  You now have color that lasts a month at your finger tips!  Hrrrumph!”
“That was it?” he asked puzzled.
“No.  Then one of the twirps piped up with ‘And I’ll bet you had to walk up hill in the snow both ways from the subway to the brownstone for miles.” “ At which point I sat in the chair of my hairdresser’s and said ‘OK weave me a shock of purple about 2 foils worth in my bang area."
Turned to him with a stern look. "So here I am getting back to my OLD self.”
A bit of silence to which I add “Well you DID ask!”

As usual, yesterday I was drugged up for my flight to NY.  I am phobic about flying.  In fact I am very claustrophobic.  Have been since childhood.  For my MRI’s I need to be hooded, like a hawk.  Otherwise, I will pull myself out of the machine on autopilot (yes, it has happened, once).

Air travel is not much different.  I am trapped in a metal tube.  My life in the hands of strangers I do not know.  Not allowing this it interfere with my life, I take xanix.  Enough xanix so we could fly through a hurricane and I would barely bat an eye.

Wouldn’t you know it?  3 planes arrived at the airport at the same time.  3 belts of baggage going, with each sign above each belt welcoming us without a mention of the flight. (How helpful)

So people were milling about at least half of them in front of the wrong belt.

Me, I used fabric paint on my suitcase to create a unique floral design.  I just happened to spot that one of a kind item from across the small terminal and managed to grab it before the belt brought it back inside for another go around.

My brothers pulls up shocked that so many people are at so small an airport.  He has never seen it like this and he used to work here.

Me, all I want to do is get back and sleep of the xanix.

The next day (today) I spend the morning getting his internet back up and running.  I think I will keep the router off the connection while I am not here.  He can barely turn on the computer, let alone trouble shoot router problems.

He still has his coal stove on, and to me it is most hot in here.  Honestly I don’t know why he dose not let this thing burn out and use a space heater if it gets cold at night.  (He refuses to use oil even tho he has a furnace.  Dose not want to support terrorists as he says.  Yeah I know).

I Have to check some emails and do as much as I can with his system, head over to the tire shop to put tires on my geo (my norther car).  Then I will plug in my laptop tonight for some real stuff.