I just went to the grocery store and got checked out by a very young, very cute boy.

I am girl!sick and went to get decadent chocolate (came back with fresh dark cherries and a caramel cinnamon bun contraption). I wore a skirt, a new top that is a little tight but I want to wear it anyway, and sandals; I wore no makeup, but my hair was up in a ponytail, which I'm told with the new haircut looks really cute.

Walking into the grocery store, the cute young boy was standing directly ahead of me, staring at me straight on, and actually looked me up and down. I stared back at him, confused at first (He's looking at my feet. Okay. Oh, and now looking up and -- woah, he's checking me out.) And then he got to my face, and again stared. I was in the process of taking of my sunglasses, so I guess that was something to look at, maybe even a dramatic cherry-on-top after his slow gaze upwards. Then we stared for a couple of seconds. Then he wheeled around and found his parents (like I said, young, probably 18 or 20) and I grabbed a flier, dumbstruck.

I walked around trying to make grocery decisions (deciding between $6 cookies, $6 brownie cake, or $3 caramel cinnamon buns is surprisingly difficult), and once in a while checked out where he was, walking casually around the aisles. At one point we made eye contact again, which surprised me because for some reason I wrote off the first encounter as a fluke. Sure, he may have looked me up and down, but did he really like what he saw enough to eye me further? Apparently so. This time I was walking toward him, him standing looking straight at me again, and we made eye contact for a few seconds until I turned to continue looking at baked goods. Away from him, I broke out into a huge grin, accepting that, hee, someone was actually checking me out and he wasn't old and grumpy-looking. Woot.

The last time was right before I went to the check out counter. Again, he was walking casually, then caught sight of me and stopped dead in his tracks, staring. I stared back. (And, unlike my reactions of old, it wasn't surprised or put-off staring, it was open and curious staring.) Then he turned around and almost ran away from me, speed walking down the aisle like a rabbit that almost got swallowed by a coyote.

I suppose I could have smiled. That will be my next lesson. For now, I'm impressed that I stared back without flinching or blushing, or running away myself. I guess that's confidence? If he was older perhaps I would have considered saying hi. As it was, I think my underlying attitude was like "Um, I'm like 12 years older than you, but hai. You're cute, and I'm flattered." And then he ran away.

Hee.

(This does remind me that, if I'm going to date the kind of boys I want to date, I'm going to have to do the approaching. I'm working on that, I swear. But girls get scared, too, goddammit. Though I suppose if cute boys closer to my age acted like this guy did, I would feel pretty confident in the approach. Sadly older guys tend to learn more subtle ways to check women out and to act aloof, which doesn't put me to ease at all.)

(Also, also: Tight shirt FTW.)

Now that my vacation is over, it's time for a writing weekend! It will start Friday at noon your local time. Sign up for a goal of writing (words) or editing (hours), or both. Ends Sunday at midnight your local time. This will also be your discussion entry. Spamming is welcome and frequent word- and hour-count updates encouraged! (And we basically have no rules other than the above: schoolwork is welcome, and you're welcome to raise or lower your goal throughout the weekend.)

Participants:

1. soleta_nf: 10,825/10,000 words and 1/1 hours
2. littlest_spark: 10246/10,000
3. shanaqui: 10,128/10,000
4. ribcage_diagram: 2,591/2,000
5. katayla: 1,409/5,000 and 0.5/2 hours
6. slartibartfast: 5,103/5,000
7. jeanniecee: 2,118/2,000 and 0.25/0.25 hours
8. torigates: 0/5,000
9. sashataakheru: 6,017/6,000
10. bewarethespork: 3,500/3,500
11. beryl_butterfly: 10,041/10,000

Pimp away and join in any time over the weekend!

True Blood was AWESOME tonight. Totally left me laughing my head off. I love the crazy songs during the credits. This season is so much fun! I love the metaphors and the expansion of the universe. (Vague for fear of spoilers.)

Here, have an article about True Blood (if you don't watch the series, read it!): 'True Blood' gets truly great with new episode.

Just one question: ( Under the cut. )

(I really need some True Blood icons.)

Also, I am getting SO EXCITED for the new season of Mad Men. The season 2 DVD is coming out July 15 and I am totally buying it. I love that show so much. I can't wait to see what 1964 looks like!

I ordered Every Secret Thing: My Family, My Country by Gillian Slovo through interlibrary loan, and I wasn't even planning to read it; I just wanted to check it out for my memoir project. From my glance at amazon.com and .ca, some reviews warned of her "whininess," and I had plenty of other ILL books to read that were due back sooner. So, I was surprised when I read the first page and couldn't put the book down. Over the next week I read it feverishly late into the night every night. It is now, hands down, one of my favourite books.

It's taken me a while to write a review - I think I love it so much my review can't possibly live up to the book. For a description of the book's plot, as well as MUCH more applicable reader comments of the book, check out amazon.uk. Essentially, Gillian Slovo is the daughter of two white anti-apartheid activists, and Gillian and her sisters took a backseat to the parents' political activism while they were growing up. Gillian traces the story of their parents' political activities with extensive research (for she and her sisters were kept in the dark as much as possible) and weaves these pieces with her own experience of them.

This gets top marks from me on being a fascinating book, as well as being a well-crafted story. Slovo's writing is wonderful - light, clear, vivid. She weaves a political history - and an amazing amount of research - with her own life story very effectively. I admire many of the writing techniques she uses, from her deft use of research to her easy movement through time.

Her movement through time really excited me, for it gives me permission (and a method) to do so in my own writing. Slovo sticks to a general chronology, but she will travel forward and back through time with ease as is relevant to the theme she's discussing. There are three sections: 1982 when her mother was politically assassinated; part two with the back story of their lives; then part three with the story after her mother's assassination (including the fall of apartheid and Slovo's search for her mother's killer). If she talks about an incident that will not come up again in the book, she will answer all questions there. If she mentions one of her parents' (to use her word) comrades in, say, 1961, she'll include a footnote to explain what happened to them later in life (which was usually a violent death at the hands of the South African state).

I love how she skips through time with such ease and yet it's so clear to the reader! That takes skill. She will use such devices as "Years later I would interview someone who would clarify this issue..." and then transition back to the main time frame by saying, "But that was still to come. In the meantime, I was still listening to so-and-so talk..."

I also like how she presented research in her story. She quotes from letters or refers to conversations she's had about the situations, rather than just telling us the straightforward story that she has pieced together. She is being transparent about where she's getting her information and is allowing the reader to judge how reliable the information is (which is especially important in situations where she's gotten contradictory testimony from different sources). This also makes me want to include more references to "In my diary at the time, I wrote..." and such in my own writing. That adds a vividness and another dimension of truth and authenticity.

Other thoughts about the book:

( A lovely quote on memory and time. )

( About her parents as communists. )

( About the supposed whininess. )

( A comment about race. )

Finally, I'd appreciate any recommendations you guys could make for books about South Africa (well-written and interesting political histories, memoirs, etc). Nelson Mandela's autobiography is on my list. I also want to check out Gillian Slovo's fiction writing - she has some set in post-apartheid South Africa!

I just got my worst haircut since junior high.

The hairdresser cut it in about 10 minutes. I am not joking. I told her to take 6 inches off (so from the lower back to the shoulders) and give it long layers. The length looked fine when it was wet, but of course it bounced up a couple more inches as it dried, and it's at my collarbone now. This is the shortest my hair has been in 10 years.

And it looks a lot shorter because the "long layers" are way too short. The shortest is at my ears. The layers have the effect of making my hair puff at my cheeks, which is horribly unflattering on me.

I asked a cashier what she thought of my hair, and she said it looked nice. Okay, I thought. At least it doesn't look like ass. Then I went into the bathroom and pulled the top part of my hair (the horrendous puff) back in a clip. I went back to the same cashier and asked, "Like this? Or down?" Her eyes widened and she said very enthusiastically, "Oh, it looks MUCH better like that!"

So... maybe it does look like ass.

On the bright side, my hair is all soft with the split ends cut off (OH BOY HAVE ALL THE FUCKING SPLIT ENDS EVER BEEN CUT OFF. *ahem*). The hairdresser (who I did admonish and make it clear it was WAY shorter that I had wanted; strangely, she didn't seem to care) recommended mousse to play with the curl, so I bought some of that. I'll play with it tomorrow.

(The hairdresser kept saying how the cut "brings out the curl." OH, DOES IT EVER. I FEEL LIKE I'M BACK IN ELEMENTARY SCHOOL WITH MY HORRIBLE PERM. UGH.)

In conclusion: Fug.