I’m hanging out at Paddy’s apartment in the city, wishing that I could be here more often. The wedding we went to on Saturday was very tasteful, like a waspy garden party. I had one of those “this-is-how-the-other-half-lives” moments when caterers were circling with platters of jumbo shrimp and I read on the back of my place card that a donation to Bono’s charity had been made in my name. To end poverty in Africa, I think. I couldn’t believe they had money left over to make a donation for everyone at the wedding. Anyway, it was fun enough, they were happy and I was drunk, so the whole thing ended up pulling on my heartstrings.

This afternoon I am going to a fancy salon downtown to get my hair cut. Yesterday when we were walking around the neighborhood, a girl came up to me and asked if I would be willing to be a hair model for her class. I figured I wasn’t doing anything, so I may as well, although I only had my hair cut two weeks ago. She had nice hair, so I figured she might make me look good too. Then I spent the rest of the afternoon wondering if my haircut was so bad that strangers thought that I needed an intervention. If it ends up really bad, it’s an excuse to cut it short again, which I prefer anyway.