Well, I’m finally lying down in bed after one hour of cutting my bangs! That’s right! I don’t like my new hair cut! The static cling is too annoying and the feathered layers got into by face!
As a result, I had to give myself a deeply cut/microsized bang. I’ll just add mousse or gel to “pump it up” like a rocker chic. That was my old hairstyle in high school, by the way. Yup.
So yeah, I recall a Filipina high schooler with a raised mole over her upper corner lip, who approached me and and inquired if I liked rock music. But I was clueless and said classical, which was true.
Because most musicians had to be musically trained in the classics. Plus, they can sing, dance, perform, AND play instruments. And still they had fun. She walked away. She hung around these talk white rocker dudes with long hairs, too.
Then I remembered Chris K, a cute whitish dude. He liked me. But because I was so freaking clueless and he was so short, there was no way we could have hooked up.
We did a recital together with Danny Fu#nt#$, a curly blondiah-haired, nerdish dude looking on. Chris played on the trumpet and I accompanied him on piano. We got a good grade and we had to but our own bronze medal or something.
I remembered he performed his rocking gig several times in the middle of the “four commons” of our high school. I wanted to see him perform. But because I was to shy, timid, fugly, and well a geek, I never did.
Regrettably, I’m still living with Mommy and Daddy. Tonight, Das Squirrel said something about don’t waste it. In other words, I’m doomed to be single and free forever.
In the meantime, during my spirituality imposed celibacy and while assuming the role of an incarnated shaman (mind y’all, my maternal side of the family are HEALERS), I’ll continue to fantasize about all the guys that I could have hooked up with in the past, present, and maybe future.
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