The Quick Fix

So yes. This has been a bit of a trying day for 'ol Ninny. The sudden and horrifying demise of my beloved hairy lip has caused me loads of self doubt and lowered self esteem. I calm myself remembering that it's just hair, hair that's not retreating from my body (like other hairs that shall remain un-named (damned genetics))so it will grow back. Also, I discovered tonight, that though the pathetic femi-French gay mustache remains, it isn't as horrible with the addition of my trusty spectacles. I love my glasses anyway, and often kick myself for not wearing them more often. Well for the coming weeks, I doubt I shall go without. Here is a visage for those of you in mourning. Granted it's no substitute, but it will at least serve as a buffer until the old hairs grow back.



All I need is a cardigan and a malt, and I'm back in business.

In case you missed

In the case that you are one of the poor few who never had the opportunity to bask in the glory of my former mustache, here's a picture:



Admittedly that's not a fantastic picture, but still.... such a horrible loss. Really.

Mustache Massacre

Tragedy! Scandal! The worst has happened. I was trimming away at my lovingly cultivated mustache when.... wait for it....I FUCKED IT UP!

Then I tried to fix it and things got worse.
Yes.
Worse.
There was facial hair everywhere! I tried to stop it, but it kept falling!
Finally I had to stop the molting, before my whole face was bare.

Now I face (pardon the pun) the ultimate dilemma. Do I eliminate all traces of the once glorious face broom, or do I sculpt to a tenable hold over while the rest grows back?

I'll let you decide.

Here be the tragic results, prepare yourselves. It's truly horrifying.



Don't ostracize me for my atrocity.

Lump (don't bother reading this, it's more of a journal entry)

I fear it may have been months dear Ninny Spot readers. Oh don't act like I've betrayed you, those of you who take the time to read this only do so out of some bizarre mixture of semi-allegiance, pitty, and and so that the next time I see you, you can nod knowingly when I regurgitate whatever I write, not knowing that you are actually one of the 3.14 people who read this.
Tonight, aside from having difficulty with my shift key, I am Lump. Sad and lonely in a boggy marsh. I fear that this open schedule of mine is allowing me too much time in my head. I've been spending most of this time trying to keep myself busy with art projects and exploring the possibility of a far off career change (one that would require me to go back to school, again, and get another degree). These things were succeeding in keeping me distracted, succeeding, that is, until now.

Oddly, I've had company of some form or another for the last three evenings (including tonight). Monday Ms. Hosebeast came up to visit, yesterday I had my weekly Eureka fix with Master Danger(space)Kitty, and tonight Mr. Book Co. came and watched a movie. Yet now, I find myself in bed, tired nonetheless, knowing that I should sleep as, once again, I'm up past my bed time and will inevitably struggle to rouse myself in time to prepare for work tomorrow, yet wishing that I wasn't alone. I'm sure I'd not feel this way if I wasn't spending so much of my time wandering around inside my own head. You see when I do this, I tend to bore myself. I get wrapped up in circles, and the few people I talk to grow weary of hearing the same circular synapse sequences again and again and again. However, that's not the real root of my lumpishness.

This sad and lonely boggy marshness, has been drawn from a different sense of being alone. One I've been carefully maintaining for the last year and two thirds (yes I just did the math). I'm grasping at straws again, wishing I had some kind of partner. An intimate friend to hold, share ideas and make things with, someone to wake up next to. Yes. I'm lonely. It's odd though, for as lonely as I am, I have no desire to seek out a person to be with. At least I've learned that lesson in the past several years. If you look for it, it will elude. The only way it will rear its lovely head is if you're distracted looking for other things to do and think about. Perhaps this is one of the reasons I've been throwing myself into more creative and educational endeavors. Or perhaps I just have more time on my hands than I'm used to, and even the various projects I'm undertaking aren't enough to occupy my mind, so it reverts to its standard default. LAUL warning signs (Lonely And Ugly Loser feelings) are cropping up. I've been truly adventurous, on my own the last few days, exploring myself in new ways. Yet I still find myself wishing I could follow these explorations with someone else. Instead, I'm throwing it in faces, "LOOK WHAT I MADE!" As though my friends and acquaintances will print out my slightly illicit digital images and hang them on the refrigerator. "Did you know that Neutra believed that humanity and nature were one, not diametrically opposed as some previous architects thought? And that he strove to reflect this in his buildings?" Yes, these are the things that fall from my mouth when left to my own devices. But it's either that, or lie on my bed, wallowing in groundless self pitty, feeling lump. Sad and lonely in a boggy marsh, even though my life is full of wonderful people who tolerate my blabbering self.

People like you. For if you have actually read all the way to this point in this tedious posting, you are most definitely one of these people. Thanks to you all for listening/reading/nodding and smiling. It means a great deal to me (and yes, I'm not so clueless as to not notice when you're doing so, I just choose to pretend like you mean it. To me the fact that you're willing to put on the front, means that you are hearing the important parts of the conversation the parts that say "hi. I'm needing validation. You see my life is a series of pointless creations and futile queries, most of which go unanswered. So please. PLEASE. nod along with my babbling. Soon I'll leave you alone and you can go back to whatever it is you should be doing while nodding at me

When I win the lottery. It will be those of you who will nod for me that receive the greatest gift of all: a Peanut Butter Twix with a chocolate cookie center, and a five dollar gift certificate to Walmart. With this gift card I highly suggest you purchase for yourself the cheapest "My First Gun" you can find, and a few rounds of ammunition for it (you'll have to dip into your own pockets for that part). Carefully lift the barrel of the gun to your forehead, smile real big, so that when the rigamortis sets in you'll look presentable, and free yourself from this shit hole. Wait, then who will nod for me? Never mind, I'll just pay off all your debts and let you live in my artists commune for cheap. I only ask that occasionally you bring home a nice boy who will help me feel less lonely.