Looks like I'm going sailing on Saturday. Cool. Although probably kinda cold.

The loved one is still off on her adventures. It will be nice to have her back.

I'm letting my hair grow out a bit. In part this is because a few people have said "Gee, it doesn't look like it would be curly"--since the usual length of under a half a centimeter doesn't give my hair a lot of room to express itself. And one person in particular, with long straight hair, expressed surprise that I couldn't choose where to part my hair (it grows from my scalp in spirals and curls and cannot be dissuaded otherwise, except for about 15 minutes at a time with handfuls of styling gel). But also, while shaving my head is a minimalist sort of thing, and pleasingly lower-maintenance, it's also an expression of (you could say "pretension to") a certain inner monasticism, a spiritual focus that I think maybe I want to earn back before I shave my head again.

One of my friends has taken to calling the Great White North "Canuckistan". I think this is hilarious, but I just know someday I'm going to say it in front of the wrong Canadian hockey player and get the crap kicked out of me.