It was haircut time as we approached the end of 2015. I usually get one every 2 or 3 months. I can tell when I need one by how long the hairs on the back of my neck are. If the werewolf hair back there is joining my head to my shoulders by hairs of greater than 2 inches in length, its time to go see the girls at Mastercuts at the mall. I went for a bit shorter on top and more length at the back so its a bit Ziggy/Faces kind of style but not spiky or anything that would turn heads.
The year Twenty Ought-Fifteen has been one I will remember. I had a pretty major health issue that I seem to be beating and had to really pay attention to for a few months. Feeling pretty good now, and science confirms that I should have a few years in me yet. People over a certain age tend to talk about their health issues to the extent that it makes me roll my eyes. I didnt wish to share with every single freakin friend or relative in the world that I had some health problems, and if you ask me how I am, I will say "fine" unless I have something contagious you should know about, and then at a certain point, ideally far into the future I will say "not so good. dying soon." but in the meantime, lets go with "fine."
Nevertheless, feeling fit and feisty at the end of 2015 means more than it used to, so I will say "fuckin rights, I really am fine" and feel stoked about that.
Happy New Year, folks.
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