Woke up feeling lousy with a stiff neck, sore back, and queasiness otherwise. Took two aspirins and before I picked up Susan for our walk, was tiptop. (When I was a kid, nobody complained of upset stomachs from aspirin, but once the ad whores started promoting the idea, people embraced it and now spend five times as much for Tylenol, Advil, and etc. Ad whores: mission accomplished.)
It was still raining off and on, darn it. Got to the hairdresser at 1:30, and didn't blow out of there until almost 5:00. Had my hair colored (darker; it had gotten to blonde last time) and cut by Kyle, my cute little stylist. I didn't recognize her, as she was brunette when I saw her before and now has her hair bleached platinum blonde, shaved on both sides, with a shock standing upright in the middle and colored pink and blue in the front. On one side under the shaved part she has a green lizard tattoo. Whether it's an actual one or temporary, I forgot to ask her. It's eye-catching, that's a cinch. I told her I wanted mine like that, too (heh, heh).
Anyhoo, I noticed how bad my nails looked and impulsively asked for a manicure. When the manicurist, Debbie, heard I had never had one before, she yelled "virgin!" so everyone in the shop could hear. Was I annoyed? Not at all--I thought it was funny.
I won't go into the long process involved in having your nails done, but it took awhile. Wish I had asked for a darker color--being such a sissy novice, I insisted on very pale pink and they're not as noticeable as they could be. Next time--YES, there'll be a next time--I'll get red, or at least a stronger pink. Now my nails look nice and my hair even better. (Aside to Jim: I may--or may not--take a photo. I have a certain picture of myself in my mind--fortyish, slender and stylish, a no-nonsense type, but with sensitivity; a kind of latter-day Katherine Hepburn. The reality is vastly different, as you may have guessed.)
Got my part of the Ulysses script from Flossi (she doesn't use an "e") and was gratified, though a little nervous, to see she gave me the last lines of Molly's soliloquy. I recited it aloud several times and couldn't hold back tears. That final "yes" is so stirring, such an affirmation of life and love, that it affects me: "...and drew him down to me so he could feel my breasts all perfume yes and his heart was going like mad and yes I said yes I will Yes." Good grief, I hope she doesn't want me to read the whole thing, which is nine pages with no punctuation except that single period at the end. Must ask Flossi if she wants an Irish accent, at which I'm not particularly good. Hope not.
Hey, this is a show bizzy weekend with my two plays in the Players & Playwrights readings in Atlantic City today and the Ulysses recitation in Ocean City tomorrow.
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