This video has nothing at all to do with this post, which in turn has nothing terribly worth reading in it. However, the song is pretty good, and will hopefully make up for any entertainment shortfalls in the text that follows
So, I’m now on day seven of occupying myself on my own here. Here’s the report.
As is customary when I go camping, I have ceased shaving. Amynah, despite her many other wonderful qualities, does not like beards, or at least not on me. So, in her absence, I am attempting to grow a chin curtain, with which to surprise/appall her on her return.
The problem I always have, when attempting this, is that none of the major facial-hair growing zones actually connect with one another. I am thus left with sideburns dangling uselessly off my cheeks, fruitlessly attempting to reach a goatee that, in turn, falls just short as it strains to reach my moustache.
Rather than have my face be decorated with a fuzzy archipelago, I eliminated the cheek-fuzz, leaving me with a ‘stache and goatee combination. Last time I attempted this, Amynah described the result as making me look like “an angry Backstreet Boy,” thus goading me into putting and end to the experiment. This time, having much more gray in my hair, I expect that I look like a Dirty Old Backstreet Man.
Other observations from the week:
1) I’ve discovered the owners of this apartment own the first season of Law and Order. The intervening years have not been kind to that series – the episodes I saw would not be out of place on the Comedy Channel today.
2) Attempting to learn any Arabic words, when you are an English speaker labouring your way through a French conversation, will cause your tongue to explode.
3) Vicky Christina Barcelona was, despite a trailer that made it look it would be like Woody Allen at his dirty-old-man-artist-scores-the-babes worst, was not bad. Penelope Cruz was worth the price of admission alone.
4) No one I've encountered this week, except those I explicitly told, has commented on my increasingly hirsute appearance. This means that I have the facial hair of a pre-pubescent, or folks just think I'm forsaken basic hygeine.
Tip readers in Halifax: my friend Tim is going to be in a musical based on the Nativity story, featuring songs from Queen, David Bowie, Tom Petty and more! It will be Friday, Saturday and Sunday (this weekend) at Saint Matthew’s Church on Barrington. I promote it not as an endorsement of Tim’s talent, but because it’s for a good cause, and I find the idea amusing (and I’m trying to guess what songs go with what parts of the story: The Talking Heads Psycho Killer for the Slaughter of the Innocents? The Police’s Every Breath You Take (I'll be watching you) for the Visitation? Tom’s Petty’s Refugee for the Flight to Egypt? The mind boggles).