Aug. 22nd, 2012

whatho: (Default)
I've been meaning ever since the Olympics ending to post What I Thought About the Sport, but it seems a bit out of date now. I do a tremendous amount of meaning to post about stuff (stuff being swimming in public pools, redrafting, reading, how many Indiana Jones films ARE there?, Men of Harlech, the French National Anthem and The Waltons) and very little actual posting about stuff. Mostly I thought there was too much sailing (I like the thought of sailing, but not the watching people do it), too much cycling, diving's scary 'cause I keep thinking they're going to scalp themselves on the way down, gymnastics is my favourite one to watch but I don't really believe it obeys the laws of physics, the men's 4x100 relay team disappointed me by failing to contain anyone from the nineties but won my love by messing up the changeover like they always do, swimming is quite boring, my breaststroke technique is better than I thought but I move at the speed of the slow-motion replay, badminton cheating is not as interesting as formula one cheating, which isn't cheating anyway, it's winning, I don't understand handball, judo or any variant of cycling, especially the one where Mark Cavendish complained about the Australians' not making an effort to aid the UK team to victory, tennis, why, I loved everyone who adored their bronze medals unconditionally or scrabbled to dig up some adoration for their bronze from the very base of their being, and I don't think javelin judges get enough credit for courage in the face of javelins.

In disconnected news, I had my hair cut again yesterday. I think it's at its shortest yet, though only by a millimetre or something. The hairdresser said I had nice hair. I said thank you, 'cause that's how I've been trained. My first thought was that it's hard to know what to do about a random compliment on something you've put basically no effort into, but my second thought was that putting no effort into your hair is probably what's best for it, so, you know, go me. I really like my hair at the moment anyway (I could maybe do without the greying temples, but clearly I don't care enough to do anything about them). I've had it short for over two years now and I still catch sight of my reflection and think 'OH! I have short hair! That's grand'. I'd wanted it short for ages while somehow worrying it wouldn't suit me and I'd massively regret it, and I'd been telling myself for some years that I'd get it done when I turned thirty without believing I really would, and then a month after I turned thirty I actually did. And I'm glad I did.

I have no idea what I shall do for tomorrow's Naarmamo. I want to save my strips for an epic quilling at the end of the month. I would like to create a watercolour I'm happy with, but that seems unlikely. I don't actually have proper watercolours that lives in tubes: they're those little blocks that only leave a vague idea of a distant memory of an unspecified colour somewhere near but not actually on the paper. Watercolours vex me.

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