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Nobody tell Oliver that despite being incredibly tired by 7pm last night, I didn't get to bed until 4am.
*cough*
And forgot to turn on the dishwasher, so I had to run it while I was awake today, which was annoying. (It's noisy.)
So yesterday I bought the complete series of A Bit of Fry and Laurie. (The reasoning actually includes "sanity", but that gets complciated to explain.)
I started watchingit yesterday evening with Oliver, and we both had variations on the same reaction. Olly watches House, so he was disconcerted by how young Hugh Laurie looks. I've watched a lot of QI lately, so I was disconcerted by how young Stephen Fry looks.
On the second disc, though, there's The Cambridge Footlights Review, featuring an unbelievably young Stephen Fry, Hugh Laurie and Emma Thompson. Stephen Fry was around 25, Hugh Laurie and Emma Thompson around 23, and they are all, by the way, already brilliant performers. It's just... weird. Because I'm used to thinking of these people as being Older Than I Am, because they are, but in this recording they're younger than I am now.
In other news, my Brilliant Master Laundry Plan appears to be working flawlessly - including the part which involved letting certain items get rained on extensively for non-water-wasting at-length rinsing. I got everything on the washing line, just in time for the forecast rain to arrive. It's out there, sodden and dripping right now. (Repeated rinsing with water from the tap, you see, is going to waste lots of water; rinsing with water falling out of the sky? Ecologically acceptable.)
The laundry I plan to do this afternoon, however, will be hung on the rack inside, because I actually want it to dry.
It includes my new white washcloth, which never actually got used as a washcloth before I used it as a pad for putting pressure on a wound. It got thoroughly blood-soaked, and soaking it in water for a day left traces of bloodstain, so (because I'm lazy) I soaked it in bleach for a couple of days.
It reminded me of when my mother was sick. We had about twenty or thirty cheap white cotton washcloths which were used in wound care. (Mum's illness involved a lot of major surgery.) The tremendous usefulness of white cotton for such items was driven home to me then, because you do all kinds of things to them without them really showing it. Sometimes they had to be bleached, and it was fine. As often as they were used, they were put through the washing machine's 95 degree (celsius) cycle to render them approximately sterile.
(My parents' washing machine is a terribly good one, and among its features is that it does, in fact, have a cycle that washes just shy of boiling point. On those rare occasions when you want to get seriously antibacterial on your laundry, this is awesome. It also has a choice of 600rpm or 1500rpm for spin cycle - and if you don't care about creasing, that 1500rpm cycle gets things to "barely damp".)
I'm not too fussed about sterilising this washcloth though - it picked up no Infected Matter, has been thoroughly bleached anyway (I'm pretty sure two days in chlorine should kill any unwanted microbes), and I have no bloodborne diseases to fear transmitting to housemates.
I am becoming seriously tempted to trim to just-past-skin-length for the hairs at the bottom corners of my hairline - they don't get more than two to four inches long anyway, because they're kinky and fragile and break a lot, and it just gets annoying.
(Last night I think I shredded quite a few of my longer hairs, too, because the difficulty I have brushing my hair without pain meant I hadn't actually brushed my hair in several days, and it had developed some hideous knots and tangles I couldn't get undone without tearing them apart a bit. Then I washed my hair in the laundry sink, because I'm not allowed to risk getting my sutures all wet, so I can't just have a normal shower.)
Cleaning my brush afterwards, I noted one hair pale and bright amid the dark brown. I thought at first it must have been one of ![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png) velithya's - I occasionally find a long, light, striaght hair on my clothes, or whatever. Those are hers.
But this one? This one was curly, bordering on kinky, and oh, man, it was a white hair, and it was mine.
Is this a sign that the degree to which I "have grey hair" is possibly going to extend beyond "three of them since about age seventeen"? Who can say. My genetic history for greying is reasonably mixed, but overall, runs to really-quite-late. (My paternal grandmother had yet to go grey when she died, in her early sixties, of breast cancer.) (Yes, I do plan to be good about mammograms when I'm older.)
To do today: Work on linguistics, and also work on a plan for what my goal for further improvement with guitar will be - deciding what my next step to practice is, and starting to work on that.Current Mood:  tired Current Music: A Bit Of Fry And Laurie
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So, here's the thing.
I know from reading posts like this that certain things my hair does are quite common with some types of hair more common in people of non-European/non-Asian descent.
However, I think that on the scale of asking non-white people to Represent Their Race, going up to random black people with nice hair and saying, "Your hair is awesome! How do you do it?" might come across just ever-so-slightly wrong.
The trouble is, I don't actually know anyone with hair like mine, and I've only seen people talk about hair like mine in the context of dealing with "black" hair. Most of it's fine - it's thick, it's curly, I haven't had it cut or trimmed in at least three years so I have slight split ends I'll get around to having trimmed at some point, and I manage it by being sure to use conditioner and keeping it braided almost all the time to keep it the hell out of my face, and it doesn't bother me. (And I can surprise people on special occasions by busting out some serious curls.)
But the hair near my neck refuses to get long, so it won't go into the braid, and it sticks out in ways I find both irksome and kind of distracting. That hair is tangly, kinky, and fragile. It gets about three or four inches long and then it gets tangly and knotty (even self-knotting) and breaks a lot.
Anyone know what I should do to maintain it better?
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So, here's the thing.
I know from reading posts like this that certain things my hair does are quite common with some types of hair more common in people of non-European/non-Asian descent.
However, I think that on the scale of asking non-white people to Represent Their Race, going up to random black people with nice hair and saying, "Your hair is awesome! How do you do it?" might come across just ever-so-slightly wrong.
The trouble is, I don't actually know anyone with hair like mine, and I've only seen people talk about hair like mine in the context of dealing with "black" hair. Most of it's fine - it's thick, it's curly, I haven't had it cut or trimmed in at least three years so I have slight split ends I'll get around to having trimmed at some point, and I manage it by being sure to use conditioner and keeping it braided almost all the time to keep it the hell out of my face, and it doesn't bother me. (And I can surprise people on special occasions by busting out some serious curls.)
But the hair near my neck refuses to get long, so it won't go into the braid, and it sticks out in ways I find both irksome and kind of distracting. That hair is tangly, kinky, and fragile. It gets about three or four inches long and then it gets tangly and knotty (even self-knotting) and breaks a lot.
Anyone know what I should do to maintain it better?
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