about the talking fish

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Writer. Wheelman. Occasional DIY mechanic. Walking collection of hang-ups. Hopeless romantic. Old-school. Analog soul in a digital world. I am all of these things and more.

Tuesday, November 05, 2002

Rain poured in buckets last night while I was driving my sister home. Trying to avoid the traffic on the expressway, I took the Skyway instead.

Set my pace at a humming 85 km/h (speed limit's 100) along the elevated stretch of the highway, more relaxed than I normally do. Perhaps the rain was worse than it usually was, or the Skyway's drainage wasn't working as well, because I could feel my steering wheel kick back abnormally against my steady hands at speed. I could actually feel my tires slipping; something that's never happened before even on rainy nights.

That gave me a little scare. After that I eased off a bit on the loud pedal and held my hands as firmly as possible on the little helm. No point in driving home ASAP when you can aquaplane and skid your tires into a flatspin over rainy tarmac.
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Finally had a change of hair fashion in 19 years. I had an undercut.

Was actually having second thoughts about the whole thing, but my ears got so itchy from all the surplus uncut hair growing from my temples like weeds. I wanted to keep my long bangs without the hassle of mussing up my hair so often.

When I finally finished with the haircut my nape felt weird, having long hair but without any shorter hair under it. I suppose I'll get used to it though. The little inconvenience I pay to get hair that arranges itself back with only a flick of my head.

Look Ma, no combing.
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Thanks, my baby. I love you. I wish I could be in Beijing with you and keep you warm...

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