I've spent a rather surprising amount of time at work over the last few weeks pulling hairs out of my chinny-chin chin and measuring them with a ruler. So far, the longest hair is about 5/8 of an inch long. A bit disappointing, since many of these hairs have had more than a month to grow. I started with the hairs on the sides of the chin, since they seem to grow longest. But there were only a few of those, and any hairs I remove make the already thin "beard" look even more sparse. So I've had to be selective about which hairs I pluck. but it's just so hard to resist yanking out the longer hairs. I know it's not a normal thing to do, and I am a bit disturbed at the collection of chin hair scattered around my desk, but this is all so new to me, having facial hair, and barely any at that, that I can't stop playing with it.I had a very rare New York day yesterday, in that I didn't spend any money at all. A very rare occurence when you live in NYC. This was mostly due to the fact that I didn't leave the house until 11:11 pm, when I went over to Miss Charming Melodee's place. Actually, I did spend money, as my harpie of a landlord stopped by to collect her rent check. She always comes by at the worst hours, either early in the morning or late at night. For some reason, I feel insulted or wronged when she comes over to get the check. I don't know why I can't send it to her via mail. She also wanted it in cash when I first moved in. Which was totally unacceptable. Then she rings the doorbell several times in a row, as if one won't be enough. Then, if I don't answer the door, she comes inside and bangs-not knocks- on my front door. I avoid her just to rob her of the satisfaction of leaving with her money. It's borderline harrassment, is what it is. Her intrusions are one of the main reasons I won't be staying in my apartment next year.
Saturday night was fairly eventful, although it's lead to a bit of a cold on my part. Miss CM and I took the G and the J-M-Z line- probably the two least used trains in the whole system- into the Lower East Side to meet up with the gang at Tonic. The gang consisted of Jed, Jen, Matt, and his newly and supposedly temporary live-in girlfriend, who just moved here from Ohio. She looks like somebody, but nobody can figure out who it is. Anyway, we sat in our usual giant wooden wine cask, drank the drinks, shot the shit, and basically had a gay old time. I put up a few of my "Oh, Give Me A Fucking Break!" stickers as well. Not for any real reason, but I thought it'd be nice if I started seeing them all over the city. Especially in hip, experimental music venues where you sit in old wooden wine casks.Also, I played drums last week with MCM, Jed, and Rachel. I would say, after playing the drums twice after not playing the drums in many years, I am at least on par as a drummer, if not as a human being, with: Meg White of the White Stripes, Charlie Watts from the Rolling Stones (though I've heard he is an accomplished jazz drummer, his beats on the Stones records couldn't be simpler if you stuck a metronome on his stool), Mickey Dolenz (who wasn't really a drummer anyway), and, what the hell, we'll say Ringo Starr too. And the drummer from Beulah doesn't sound that great either. Not that I don't enjoy their work in various degrees.
Lastly, I think its aces that todays date is 030303.
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