Full Moon Fever

Today, some woman at work told me my new hairstyle resembled her father's toupee. Try as I may, I couldn't take that as a compliment.

Then some kids referred to me as "that scary man" as I walked past them to get into my apartment building.

Last night, the cutie trainer at the gym didn't call me "sir," making me believe he doesn't think I look ancient anymore. That's a plus.

Finally, my roommate is sick. As I walked in, she asked me to bludgeon her to death and end her suffering. (Believe me : my roomie is tough as nails. This must be bad.) I explained that I couldn't for two reasons: A) "You have a boyfriend now - that's his job," and B) "If my name's not on the insurance policy, all this means is I have to search for a new roommate."

Now, I don't know how much there is to the whole full moon driving people crazy thing, but I feel it coming nonetheless. Sure, the evidence is spotty at best. People, if you ask me, are never very nice to each other if they don't have to be. And kids are always cruel. And roommates, even the lion-hearted ones, do get sick. And the weather hasn't been too wonky lately. Except for that freak thunderstorm everyone woke up to but me.

But that hair crack is sticking with me. You see, I am growing my hair out a bit. How much is "a bit"? I don't know yet. When it's too long, I'll tell you. Or cut it. Or both. Right now, it's in that "in-between" phase, the one where every other day I'm tempted to shave in all off and start from scalp. I was too dumbfounded to explain to my well-meaning, if slightly misguided associate. (She said my hair was looking a little too flat. With that I couldn't disagree - I woke up late this morning and rushed out of the house with minimal primping time.) But other people have been complimenting my hair lately. My favorite co-worker told me the new do was very Beatle-esque. Another recently called it very "movie star." So maybe it just looked bad today. And maybe I'm just too sensitive because of the full moon coming on.

To make myself feel better, I must note that Jason is back after his unexpected week off. And Jake has a connection while traveling, so we get a Breakfast At Tiffany's - On The Road Edition!! So, no, despite an apparent bad hair day, life isn't all bad.

Still, I'm going to wear a hat to the gym tonight. I can't take any chances that the guy who I suspect may be Andrew McCarthy seeing me with my toupee on.

-J.

This post was sponsored by the My Comb-over! Committee.

UPDATE (12:31am Friday) Two funny things to add...A) the guy at the gym is definitely not Andrew McCarthy. Darn. And I've one last one to add to my "people say the shittiest things when the moon is full" list. I took my lunch knapsack with me to gym to hold my wallet and such while I worked out. (I don't do the locker. I have lock issues. Don't ask. Long story). Anyhow, after the gym I stopped into Coffee Bean to feed my addiction and heard this as I was leaving.

Barista: "See? He has a man-bag. I'm gay enough for that, too."

Not my day, I guess. I should have gone and taken back the tip I'd dropped in the jar.