Where have I been!

Sorry, blog! I kind of forgot about you this week. I've been kind of busy getting clothes and looking for a job and all of that. I didn't have a lot on hand when I showed up here and I finally got to the point where wearing the same cutoffs and top every day was getting pretty embarrassing.

Roast Beef says that there's going to be swing dancing at Ray's tonight, with free lessons beforehand! He's completely against dancing of any kind (he thinks he looks foolish if he so much as walks in a straight line, let alone expresses rhythm) so I've got my work cut out for me. We're going to practice a few basic steps here at the house before we even take the lessons, so he doesn't feel completely unprepared. I think I'm going to wear this fun Marilyn Monroe-type black sleeveless blouse that I got for fifteen dollars at Harrigan's, and a little black skirt to match, since it's going to be kind of a formal thing. I'm letting Beef get away with wearing a simple short-sleeve button-up that has martinis embroidered on either side of the chest (I picked it up for him because he owns absolutely zero respectable clothing).

Anyhow, wish me luck getting Beef out on the dance floor. I'll need all the luck you can spare.

He doesn't charge enough.

I swear, Lyle just spent three hours on my hair and only charged me thirty dollars. And it's not like he took three hours because he's slow, we did a ton of highlights and a color wash and then he set a really cool new line in my hair that he took a while to get perfectly even. If you start out with a good line then the next cuts go that much faster. Anyhow, the more I get to know him the more I like him as a person. Lots of hairstylists make incredibly dopey conversation with you about like visiting their moms or whatever, but he tells some great stories. Apparently he spent a lot of time on this California-Oregon-Washington annual migratory circuit of old hippies and drug addicts -- they travel to different hot springs all year long and live in trailers or tents. He met guys like Chili Bob, a Viet Nam vet who looked like a spindly wizard and drank a box of Franzia by lunch every day and a case of beer by nighttime. He met people like The Komodo who filmed bestiality videos and...I can't even write about the weird stuff The Komodo did, he'd probably find out and try to come kill me. It's kind of incredible the things Lyle's seen.  And you don't feel uncomfortable when he's telling you that holding a pair of scissors so close to your head...he sounds as entertained by it all as you are. He does need some breath mints though, he's got that deep-down cigarette thing going on. 

I can't wait to see what Beef thinks of my new look - although he probably won't even notice until I say something. Yesterday he was wearing this old Bart Simpson t-shirt with yellow pit stains and he wouldn't throw it away until I said that I was moving to Mexico if he didn't.

New Hairstylist!

Surprise of surprises, that Lyle guy actually knows how to cut women's hair! He was doing a clipper-cut on Beef today and when I walked into the kitchen to get a Hansen's he immediately took out his shears and spray bottle, told me to stand still, and in like three seconds he had taken all kinds of dead weight off of my bangs. When he finished with Beef he insisted that I sit down in the chair for some more work. He snipped a few strands here and there to see how it would hang at different lengths, then he shampooed and conditioned me with a really trained touch. After that he took matters into his own hands and pretty soon I looked just like Lillian Gish! If you have thick, wavy hair like mine then finding someone who understands it is like finding the decoder ring for the Rosetta stone.

He even pulled a blow dryer out of his bag and started setting some curls here and there. I couldn't believe it. Pretty soon we were talking about color treatments and now I have an appointment for Friday! We're going to do it over at Ray's house because Ray actually has an in-house salon room with a shampoo bowl, hydraulic chair and drying station. As pathetic as Ray seems sometimes, it sure is handy to live near him.  

Friday party, picnic, etc.

So Friday night at Ray's Téodor wasn't around, but that didn't matter because Beef was being fairly normal and we even had a few decent conversations, although not about his little incident last week. And since Ray and funny old Mr. Bear (he calls me Miss Molly and tips his nice hat) went off to play pool, Beef didn't feel inclined to keep up with Ray's drinking antics and wind up face down on the patio (he just doesn't carry as much weight on his frame as Ray). He just loosened up and before long he surprised me by doing some pretty good dives into the pool.
 
Soon all sorts of people were cheering for him each time, and little Philippe would even hand him towels as he came out of the pool (Philippe was beaming at him like he was Greg Louganis!). He's really good, he says that he used to practice all summer over at the lake. He can do flips, backflips, a flip with a twist, a double-flip, a really nice jackknife, and even a really good cannonball. I was impressed.
 
Saturday he was acting kind of edgy in the morning but then he opened up later that afternoon and we had a little bit of a breakthrough. I can't tell you how relieved I was. Then he took me on a lovely dinner picnic down by the creek, and he pretended that the grocery bag was a banjo and sang,
 
Molly
Oh Miss Molly
You make a dude jolly
Jolly for all of life's folly
 
You have to understand, that's pretty upbeat coming from him. Maybe for Christmas I'll get him a banjo and he can write me more love ballads.
 

I guess we're off to Ray's...

But I really wish Beef would come clean about what happened the other night. He still hasn't mentioned it, and I feel like if I bring it up he's going to go off the handle again. It's going to be kind of an awkward party, hopefully Téodor will be there and I can hang out with him most of the time. Beef can drink himself silly and maybe then he'll feel like talking. He usually gets pretty chatty and emotional when he's on his way down.
 
Also, I heard him in Gramma K's room with the door shut, and he was speaking kind of sternly to her. I couldn't really make out what he was saying, and I left before he could see that I'd been trying to eavesdrop.

A "talk," if you can call it that

Okay, so Beef's pretty new to this "talking to others about what's on your mind" thing. We were having some lemonade in the back yard today and I casually brought up the other night when he stormed out of the house for no apparent reason--for six hours--and it went kind of like this:

MOLLY: So what was happening the other night?

BEEF: Oh uh you mean did I do something in my sleep such as a crass thing

M: No, the other night when you left without saying anything.

B: ...

M: Sunday, when you left all night without saying anything. Were you okay?

B: [looks over fence, then into tree] This tree ought to have more lemons at this point

M: Beef, come on. I was worried about you.

B: You ain't got to worry about me not at all

M: Come on, Beef. You can't do that to people.

B: [suddenly impatient] alright alright alright enough already

M: What?

B: What what what enough already, jesus

M: I was just worried about you, that's all.

B: Well hell and hooray look at me I worry people


That's about where it ended, kind of uncomfortably. He got up a few seconds later and watered some basil plants that had wilted pretty bad in the sun, then we went inside to watch Blowout, that reality show about the Beverly Hills hair salon. Things are still tense, I can tell we're both brooding over this now-unmentionable issue. He knows it's still on my mind, he's not stupid.

Uh, bye, Roast Beef?

I don't know what was going on in his head, but Beef just stalked out of the room without any explanation and a few seconds later I heard the front door slam. Naturally Gramma K let out an instinctual nag and wheeled around in her room a bit (she doesn't *need* the wheelchair but she usually uses it around the house, I think mainly to make Beef feel bad). I think he's not used to having anyone around to talk to when he gets worked up. I'm going to try to talk to him about this when he comes back, but for now it looks like he has a system for making time for himself.

Wow too much barbecue

Roast Beef stayed up late watching FoodTV last night and decided he was going to slow-cook meats all day over his barbecue. This gave him tons of time to work on his sauce, and he made the best sauce I have ever tasted in my life. Plus since he was barbecuing Gramma K stayed in her room the whole time with terrycloth bath towels push-pinned over the windows to keep out the carcinogens. Extra-secret double bonus.

Then we went over to Ray's for dinner and drinks and Ray was grilling too. He had gotten this really nice shi-shi (sp?) mail order meat which was way better than the stuff Beef had bought, and Beef felt like he had to keep making observations about his ribs versus Ray's ribs. It got kind of annoying so I went and talked to Téodor for a while. He's really interesting, and we hung out for a long time talking about music and stuff. Then Beef finally wandered over after like an hour, pretty drunk, and I tucked us in on the fold-out couch in the pool house. I was pretty impressed that Ray had a full set of nice, clean, matching linens in his pool house, but then again I don't know too many people that rich. Maybe that's normal.

HYMEN ON BOARD

I signed up at CafePress.com tonight, that place that prints on clothing on demand, and had a pair of panties made which say HYMEN ON BOARD on the front. I can't wait to spring them on Beef. Maybe I should get a pair of boxers made for him that say MY TEETH AREN'T THE ONLY THING I GRIND IN BED.

Hymen!

Roast Beef is such a goof. Today he said the word "hymen" when he was complaining about Jason Alexander ("...that dude has such a hymen") and then he immediately got all uncomfortable because he had said that word in front of a woman. Like I don't know that I have a hymen and you don't, Roast Beef? It's not like I get uncomfortable around you when I call someone a peckerhead, even though I know the deep dark secret about your anatomy. Hymen away, folks. I know about it, it's cool. It's the coolest.

Everybody do the Morrissey Dance!

I would write more here, but I'm doing The Morrissey Dance.

Meta-hair Day

There is this great photo of Angelina Jolie in this month's WIRED. She doesn't really have hair like mine but the stylist worked it so that it mimicked the way my hair (super thick, wavy, unruly) works when it's cut short, and I cut the photo out so that I could take it to my new stylist (when I find one down here, that is). My hair is really a handful and I always have a hard time finding a good stylist for it. Those of you who have a good stylist know what I mean: there's nothing worse than bouncing around between stylists who just don't have a clue what you're after or how to work with your particular type of hair. Also important though is to know what your hair will and won't do before you go in for your appointment, and also to let them know how much time you're willing to spend on maintenance each day.

Beef is back! He was out borrowing the first season of Curb Your Enthusiasm from Ray, and we're excited to get watching. I made us blueberry smoothies (I brought the blender into Beef's room so I wouldn't have to talk to Gramma K) and picked up some of those nice thick Santocho chips and fresh salsa.

Roast Beef is barbecuing!

Which is great because Gramma K (a) doesn't like to go outside, and (b) won't eat barbecued food because in her eyes it is highly carcinogenic. Although she did go outside for a bit today, to go to church at her friend's house (I don't know if you'd call it a friend, because I don't think she can have friends, and I don't know if you'd exactly call it church, because it's someone's house, but those are the words she uses). I guess they just sit around and complain about their joints and read a bit of Bible. Anyhow, earlier today while she was out we fooled around with the new machine Beef built for me - it's awesome. He tricked out the chipset drivers and fine-tuned FreeBSD so this thing basically flies. Listen to me, all saying "basically" - I'm starting to talk like him!

ROAST BEEF: So uh basically we gonna have us some bbq today I mean uh basically this evening
ME: Cool, basically.

He's making hot dogs ("my speciality" he says) so we minced some onions and got some peppers and tomatoes so we could make them just like Chicago dogs. He's really big on hot dogs being thematic. Last time he cooked them they were "sadness dogs" because he had gotten over his Yahoo! Mail quota and lost an eBay bid. Sadness dogs are just plain hot dogs with two eye dots and a frown, made out of mustard, at one of the ends. He drew a ketchup tie on his because he had been wearing his tie at the time. He's so cute. Ok, he just called me that they're ready - I'm gonna jump out the window rather than go through the house.

I am so mad at Gramma K

So like it's not bad enough that Gramma K is completely batty and speaks to the world through some sort of nag filter, but now she's decided that she doesn't like me. This is totally unfair, as I've gone out of my way to be nice to her and not make a mess or noise around the trailer or anything. I've even eaten her horrible cooking on more than one occasion, mostly as a way of being nice to Beef because he always manages to choke the stuff down without making a show. God that woman NEVER remembers to salt the bread she bakes and we're sitting there dipping flour-based packing material into watery pot roast gravy (which she cooks until it's mush btw) while she wanders in and out of our universe speaking on subjects like donating money to her church (even though she's always broke) and how she received some pamphlets in the mail from a man who discovered how you can make your own electricity at home, using water, and never have to pay for it again. Jesus H. Christ I don't know how Beef puts up with it. When she told us about the water thing I just wanted to stick my fork into my forehead but Beef just politely said, "Oh, I don't know, Gramma! It sounds too good to be true!" It's like he's learned how to jog politely around the perimeter of her incompetence in a way that doesn't rile her yet doesn't imply that he agrees with her, either. This place is so dysfunctional.

Anyhow like I was saying she's taken a disliking to me, which is ridiculous because I've been watering all the croaking plants on the front porch and dusting and even sorting all of her TV Guides by chronology. Why do you keep a TV Guide for more than a week? I even help with the dishes. Yet this morning when Beef was leaving to get a USB/PS2 adapter for the new computer he's building me (what a sweetheart!) I heard her ask him when his "friend" was going to go back home because she doesn't like when friends stay over. Apparently it costs too much money and "wears down the fixtures." Who do you think pays the rent on this stinky box, you nasty old woman? If it wasn't for Beef she'd be lying on her side under some abandoned bridge.

Alright, steam steam steam. I'd better quit before I go completely bucknuts.

Thank god gramma K is finally in the shower

I'm so glad she got up early today, because I have plans to go hiking up in Woodside. There are a lot of old abandoned estates up there and you can find old stone chimneys/hearths just standing out in the middle of fields that haven't been walked in for ten years. I'm bringing a lunch and Beef's digital camera so I can maybe make a little photojournal.

Okay, there go the rings on the ADA handles. I'd better clear out while she's focused on not falling down.

Bill Cosby is Set Aflame!

When I was a kid we had a lot of Bill Cosby's old comedy albums around, and I always used to play them. Why Is There Air, Right!, Wonderfulness, Himself, Revenge, I Started Out As A Child, etc. This is still great material, and now The Cos seems to have embarked on a totally new branch of his career, where he yells at young black people who are in the position he once was - which I gather is mainly working class and underpriveleged. It's fascinating to watch this prominent older black man rail against young blacks; it seems like he's just bulletproof and can say whatever he wants, without any pretense of loyalty to race. It's nice to see an individual speak out about what's burning him even though he will face great odds for doing so.

Roast Beef is so silly

I was lolling around in bed late today, kind of lazy, but mainly I was waiting for Gramma K to get into her bathroom routine so I could sneak out of the house without talking to her. I know she helped raise Beef and everything but she's pretty difficult to deal with. It's like she lives in a wholly separate world of concerns from everybody else, where it's always important to nag whoever is in front of you about the most mundane and unnecessary things you can think of. Hard to explain. Yesterday I was hanging out in the room while Beef went out to get us some chips and Tostitos cheese dip and diet Dr. Pepper, and I heard her warning him against walking too close to the creek because "if there are earthquakes the creeks are the first places to get pushed in."

Anyhow after I heard the shower start up and her rings clinking against the handicap-bars I snuck out of the house and went for a nice walk down to the Underground. The veggie sandwich at Quizno's is nice because they actually use sliced mushrooms and olives and when that bakes it gets nice and fragrant. Not the greatest food in the world but for three dollars it's hot and flavorful and not completely fatty. Much better than the Subway veggie thing. Oh, I'm not a total vegetarian, btw. I just knew that Beef was planning on barbecuing hamburgers for dinner so I went light for lunch. He is very proud of his particular hamburger recipe (it involves lots of dried spices, he says). Anyhow, talk to you later.