There is a 100% chance of rain tomorrow, and the 14,500 stubborns in Galveston who've exempted themselves from the mandatory evacuation are being told that they face "certain death." I need to go to the laundromat tomorrow as our dryer is AWOL, so I guess this is just a little spur to get up early enough to be done and back home by 1 pm (when the fun is really supposed to start.) I'm kind of looking forward to it, as I won't really need power tomorrow, and as long as the plumbing works life should be good. The sky at sunset was gorgeous this evening, featuring the main colors from a spreadsheet chart I'd been working on earlier.
And in more important news, I got expensive shampoo and conditioner since my hair is long enough that it needs encouragement to avoid knots ("If you don't talk to your hair about tangling, who will?"). This will be totally fun to try (what will the smells and textures of these epithelial condiments be?), and I expect to be combing admirers out of my "long luscious hair"* starting tomorrow.
*A quote from a girl on the subway, NOT referring to another girl. At first I thought the young man's obvious lack of interest was because she was making him sound like even more of a fruit than he was, but I misjudged him. He suddenly awoke from his coma when the girl said she supposed his long luscious hair had very little product in it: as it turns out it had five and his lack of interest previously was that the connection to himself† was a little more tangential than he found appealing. In the end, the girl was a sympathetic character as she was at least trying to be congenial, while the young man seemed to have found someone he really liked (himself) and was too entranced to notice others.
†It had been a story of another young man with similar long luscious hair who had been made to cut it off.
