Jazz goes disco (+ hair)

That's what the guy told me when I walked into the one liquor store on the planet where I knew I could still get my guilty-pleasure beverage of the year – the elusive (but oh so worth the search) Diet Pepsi Jazz.

"They discoed it," he said. "We can't get it anymore."

So the thing I had feared would come to pass – has. It's gone forever. I knew it was coming, but I'm kind of glad I didn't know when ... I was able to enjoy my last sip ever, without the melancholy knowledge that I would never taste its cotton candy-like sickly-sweetness again. It's better that way. Because when you know it's the last time it's just ... weird.

I did a cursory search of the Web to see if I could find an online beverage store that might have a stash laid aside somewhere, but no luck so far. Sigh. I'm okay with it. It's not like I was drinking it anymore anyway – today was just kind of a fluke, like when you find yourself driving past an old flame's neighborhood – just by chance, nothing planned – and spontaneously decide to drop by, just to say hello, and then when you knock on the door a stranger answers, and he's moved, and he didn't tell you, and you realize ... I wasn't sure I was really over him but you know what? I am.

In other news of letting go, I finally went ahead and did the big CHOP today – five inches of hair is gone and I'm pretty sure it includes the last remnants of my ill-advised perm of 1996 ... Remember that? Man, I'll never do that again – anything chemical at all. My hair might not be perfect, but it's finally back to being 100% its real, unadulterated, unevenly wavy and with the occasional weird white one but pretty much A-OK with me, self.

One of the things I like about having plain old long hair is that Mr. A can cut it for me, which saves money I can then use on other hair-maintenance tasks like waxing and eyelash-dying, both of which I may be addicted to for the summer. It's been two weeks since I did both of those things and I have to say – I'm liking the results. There's definitely some new growth on the legs, but those are hairs that were too short to get caught in the wax and there's so little of it that I'm still satisfied with the condition of my legs even though I haven't done anything to them for two whole weeks now – and stubble and itchiness are two things I'm rabidly obsessive about, so that's saying a lot.

The eyelashes are a little different story. I had forgotten how fast eyelashes grow. Usually you don't notice a thing like that, but when new pale red lashes are growing in on top of existing jet black ones, it's pretty clear to see where the new ones are coming in. I'm okay with it still, though, and will probably have it done again before too long – only with a different color of dye next time.

This kind of information – this entire entry, in fact – is sort of silly to post, isn't it? I mean, who really cares about any of this except for me? And even I don't care all that much about it, except that it's nice in future years to be able to go back and search for a word like "perm" or "wax" and find where I wrote what I thought about the whole experience, and make better-informed decisions about whether I might like to do a thing like that again.

Wow – I just looked out the window and there's what I will call a cavalcade of lizards sporting about on top of a couple of big rocks at the back of the garden. Pushups, leaping, zipping around like mad – it's all happening. I might need to get out there and take a look at that in a minute.

P.S. Just for fun (I took this photo down though – sorry!) – here's one of me and the Taterman. He loves to sit under the desk while I'm working on the computer and was begging to be allowed in, even though I'm almost done writing and there really isn't much space for him in there. If you can ignore the dirty floor and the lack of any semblance of style in our kitchen (though I hear avocado-green appliances are making a comeback in certain circles) I think it's obvious he is the biggest sweetheart of a darling of a dog who ever lived.

P.S.2. I'm watching the YouTube of the so-called "goddess of mommy blogging" on the Today Show, and the narrator actually just said, "Blogging ... is cheaper than therapy!" Well, thank you very much, Kathie Lee. That was the tagline for the very first incarnation of this blog, starting in 1999! And actually – the erstwhile goddess herself just said that she started her blog in 2001 – two years after I started mine! Hrrmmm. It's not like I would want to be famous – far from it. But I guess I do take some pride in being an early adopter.

Okay. This is now officially the stupidest post I've written all year. Still. If I ever do go back to graduate school, I would love to do work on this topic. Although I'm sure somebody's already beat me to it by now.