I have learned that you cannot, in fact, walk into an apple store, slap a thousand dollars on one of their fine wooden tables, and preorder an iPad.
They will, in a professional manner and with utmost courtesy, direct you to the website, where preorders closed two days ago.
They will then recommended that you stop by the store on the 16th, launch day, with your cash in hand.
Which doesn’t seem like a recommendation so much as an, “I dare you to.”
I know I cannot keep a restaurant open single handedly.
But I can try.
That first spoonful of ice cream after a period of withholding.
That first sip of beer after a week of abstaining.
I know, that never happens—but it’s evocative. Like an embrace from a friend you haven’t seen for a while.
Which I guess sort of explains my relationship with beer.
I sometimes hate my past self. I really don’t know what to say about this note.
I wrote a thought down, then never completed it.
Then, later revisited it and got angry with my past self.
It’s like I’m having a passive aggressive relationship—with myself.
So I’ve cut my hair.
What I’ve learned so far:
Sometimes, people who have not seen me with short hair before will ask, “Can I touch it?” and then touch it without waiting for an answer. I know this isn’t exactly like when pregnant women have to fend off people rubbing their bellies, but I am slightly more empathetic about being touched without permission.