things make a post
No wonder I’m tired. I’ve walked something on the order of 30 miles in the past four days.
Today I bopped out on my own for a couple of hours and stopped by SubCity, one of the local comic shops. Turns out half one on a Sunday is a great time to go hang out and chat for a while, so I spent a lovely 45 minutes or so talking with Rob, the proprietor, who’s a friend of ours. Amazing how going out and talking to people I’m not related to makes me feel like more of a real person. And I bought the Warren Ellis run on Astonishing X-Men whilst there, so. :)
One of the nicest things about going to SubCity is I almost always walk past the massage place on my way back again, which always makes me stop in and see if anybody’s got time for a quick chair massage. Somebody did today, so I got a little fifteen minute shoulder squish. I wish I could do that approximately every other day, with a proper massage once a week…
I failed to buy new walking shoes, because the place where I get ’em wasn’t having a sale. I hope they do soon, because I’ve really already worn the two pair I have out. But I did stop into a not-so-much-walking-shoe store and admired how the pair of shoes that instantly caught my eye were the most expensive ones available. I’ve a real knack for doing that, so I do.
It should come as no surprise to anyone who’s read my blog for more than a few minutes that I have very little skill or patience with my hair. I’ve been trying for … some time now … to successfully French braid it. It’s never worked. After staring grimly at my How To Braid Hair book, though, I began to suspect something, and today I decided to follow through with the hash that I was making of the French braid. This is what happened:
Apparently it’s called a Dutch braid, and it’s what happens if you braid under, rather than over, which is how I always braid my hair. I didn’t really *know* it was how I did it, or rather, that it wasn’t how everybody does it, although I always had the vague sensation that the tops of my braids, at the scalp, didn’t look like other people’s. Now I know why.
That picture also happens to demonstrate nicely how, how in one’s imagination, braiding a Rogue stripe makes a big fat bright streak through the whole of one’s braid, but how in reality, well, this is what happens. And this is an unusually *good* showing of the bright streak: frequently it disappears entirely into the body of the braid.
And now, having shared all that scintillating information with you, I shall go finish the dishes, read a book, and go to bed. :)