Day 61

Today, I went to the dentist for the first time in many years. I actually liked him, which is a surprise if you know my ususal take on doctors. Only three cavities, too. Not bad for having waited so long.

Day 51

Much too tired to take pictures. I slept all afternoon and evening, until it was time for bed.

Day 44

I got my hair cut at an actual barbershop. The barber used hot lather and a straight razor to clean up around the edges. The way I see it, women have day spas and men have barbers. Next time I go, maybe I should ask if I can get a shave and a haircut. There is very little in this world as relaxing as a shave from a barber with a straight razor. First the hot towel, then the hot lather. The shave. Another hot towel, then the astringent, then a cold towel. Maybe even a little aftershave. That's good stuff.

Day 17

I'm feeling a little bit grizzly this evening. I definitely need to shave and trim my beard tomorrow. I don't know why I'm in a bad mood. I've got my favorite shorts on (I almost posted a picture of them, I like them so much), all the company is gone, and the house is quiet.

That picture behind me is from a set of three abstracts that were one of my best scores when I was moving furniture. They're all about 3x5 feet, framed, and fucking cool. I can't believe I got them for free. Two of them are hanging in my office/loft/landing type area, and the third is hanging in our basement storage space. Pretty soon, we're going to be all out of wall space, especially if we keep buying books. That's right, we got two more bookshelves from craigslist this weekend to house our expanding literary collection. Between bookshelves, art, posters, and postcards, you can hardly see any wall at our place at all.

Day 11

That's right, this is a picture of the worst athlete's foot in the world. If Nikki can post a picture of her warts, I can post a picture of my nasty foot. This foot causes me more grief than I care to think about. We're talking about a case of athlete's foot that is well into its second year now.

My feet are a little weird in general, what with the prehensile toes and the pinkie toe that curls under the others. The little toe rests so far under the others that it forms a triangular shape from constantly being squashed under there. The rest are normal enough, except I can pick stuff up and manipulate small objects dextrously with them.

I hope you didn't look at this before dinner.

Day 4

Today's Boston Globe reports that Boston is the third in the nation for road rage. I've gotta say, I'm disappointed. I know I'm doing my part, the rest of you need to step it up. Did you let somebody merge today without flipping them off, yelling, or actually ramming them with your car? Stop that shit, how are we supposed to be number one if you keep that up?

This is a picture of me doing my part to keep Boston driving angry. That's right, I'm going down Centre Street at the height of rush hour taking pictures of myself. This was, ironically, right before I heard the story about road rage on the radio. I really do exemplify the Boston driving ethic. I speed, cut people off, scream obscenities at the other drivers, and never yield an inch.

That being said, I do drive with courtesy. I know that sounds delusional after the last paragraph, but I know when it's my turn and when it's not. I come to a full stop before taking my right on red, let pedestrians cross at crosswalks, follow the rules in rotaries, and never pass on the shoulder. All I ask in return is a little reciprocity.

If people would stop passing me on the shoulder in the rotary I have to go through every morning, my life would be a happier place.