Sitting with hair-dye on my head that is actively yet delightfully accenting my natural tones and highlights. It's to go with the snappy new haircut. Ya know, you shell out FIFTEEN CLAMS (cheap bitch)and you expect a pretty decent haircut, but I had to "fix" this one when I got home using scissors. So I take full credit for the success of the "look". Or the failure.
Spent time in my beloved West-End this afternoon. I'll be back one day. Of course, I may be 90, sporting a collostomy bag that one of my lovely twins will have to change, and have spent much of my life in Montreal, London, New York, or Kandahar but , oh yes, I will be back.
Just rinsed my head. Why couldn' t God almighty, or whomever, have made me a natural red-head? Would have saved me being exposed to a massive load of carcinogens. Which meant I could have smoked longer.....
Really, tonight I'm writing down some ideas for a play? Short-film? Sketches? Just ideas. Which, of course, means I'm looking for some stuff to distract me from having to actually look at the blank screen. You writers out there know what I mean.
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