(no subject)
I need to get my bangs cut.
Yesterday taking a walk in the dark and cold (oh, how I hope for the first snow to come soon) and I could find two hairdressers and one sign towards a third one in a residential area, but found none. A lot of the houses have big windows, and now you can see into houses with their lights on easily. While looking for the hairdresser, I walked into people's yards and could catch glimpses of them cooking supper or watching television. And then, there was a strange, big house with the front door open and all of the rooms lit up. I really felt like sneaking inside, but wasn't brave enough to do it.
Next to a hairdressing salon in the small town center, there was a photo studio with sloppily photoshopped, weird photos of young kids whistling notes or being sucked in to a vortex in their display window. I stopped to get a better look, and then noticed a red smudge on the glass. Someone had kissed the window with lipstick on. I think I'm snatching that for a story.
Today I'm a bit nervous, after being very anxious yesterday night. There's books to read and texts to write, and I have Il nome della rosa which so far is not a pleasure to read, but I hope it's getting better soon. (And then, there's suddenly been the Cold War everywhere - I keep confusing characters and their world's ends)
These days are disappearing into thin air, but it's not a wonder.
It's a shame that Halloween is nothing here; I really feel like a masquerade now.
Yesterday taking a walk in the dark and cold (oh, how I hope for the first snow to come soon) and I could find two hairdressers and one sign towards a third one in a residential area, but found none. A lot of the houses have big windows, and now you can see into houses with their lights on easily. While looking for the hairdresser, I walked into people's yards and could catch glimpses of them cooking supper or watching television. And then, there was a strange, big house with the front door open and all of the rooms lit up. I really felt like sneaking inside, but wasn't brave enough to do it.
Next to a hairdressing salon in the small town center, there was a photo studio with sloppily photoshopped, weird photos of young kids whistling notes or being sucked in to a vortex in their display window. I stopped to get a better look, and then noticed a red smudge on the glass. Someone had kissed the window with lipstick on. I think I'm snatching that for a story.
Today I'm a bit nervous, after being very anxious yesterday night. There's books to read and texts to write, and I have Il nome della rosa which so far is not a pleasure to read, but I hope it's getting better soon. (And then, there's suddenly been the Cold War everywhere - I keep confusing characters and their world's ends)
These days are disappearing into thin air, but it's not a wonder.
It's a shame that Halloween is nothing here; I really feel like a masquerade now.