Randomness for today:
When I woke up (dear train and your blaring horn, fuck you!) the air smelled like gasoline. It might have been that Larry just had taken off on his bike to work (Triumph, not Schwinn, if that makes sense!) and maybe that was the gas I smelled.

I love the smell of gas. I remember getting up for family vacations at the crack of dawn (driving road trips) and dragging my tired and dramamine-drugged (I got car sick easily) ass to the big Buick station wagon and half lying, half sitting in the back seat (not that VERY back seat that faced backwards so you faced the driver behind you..that was a weird seat to be stuck in!)

We would leave between 4-6am, I think, and I loved the smell of dad getting gas on the way out of town. It meant we would see many interesting things and be away from home for at least a week or more. I can't remember where we drove, that is the problem. It was many states away. I don't think we drove to D.C. (that was when I was a teen)..We must have flown there.

I remember specifically going to Virginia Beach, Virginia (obviously we rented a car or something) Anyways, I was probably 15? (So, 1985?) I remember loving seeing all the punk rockers that hung out on the boardwalk (our hotel balcony faced the boardwalk). I was too shy and intimidated to speak with them, though (and they seemed older than me).

I remember standing on the balcony with my sister and my brother and making fun of the hairy, middle-aged man walking on the boardwalk that was in a bright red speedo. He noticed my sister (creepy, she was 13?) and was trying to flirt with her. Gag. I can't remember if I went by myself or with my sister but my parents let me walk around the boardwalk (close to our hotel) that evening.

I met a sailor (there were tons of them around) and we started talking. I think his name was Gary and I remembered thinking he looked exactly like C. Thomas Howell (Tommy Howell..think "The Outsiders") so I was all fluttery nerves. I think we got some burgers and then went to sit on the beach. We talked and it was getting dark and then he kissed me. He also let out a low (but still audible)fart when he did this. I kissed him anyway. That was my first "real" kiss. He must have been 18? I think my sister was flirting with a group of sailors, but I am not entirely sure. I never saw him again but I remember all the next day I was in a daze while traveling in the car. All I could think about was how sexy that sailor was. Pretty funny how my first kiss was with a military man, considering how anti-military I am, in general.

I used henna on my hair about 1 month ago (it turned marigold yellow at first and then settled into a nice coppery orange), and then I bought a box of regular hair color (a coppery red). Today I was googling all about possible issues with putting chemical color over henna hair. I read all sorts of horror stories about hair falling out, weird color reactions, etc. I took some hair from my brush and did a "strand test"..after 15 minutes the hair didn't seem like it had dissolved in a chemical frenzy or anything and it looked coppery red, so I went ahead and colored my hair. However, I panicked once it was on my head and washed it out after 10 minutes. It has a little more color (it's nice, actually) and the roots aren't so apparently brown, but it didn't do a whole lot, which might be a good thing.

I think I have suddenly developed a weird little crush on somebody. I have seen him at parties recently because we is friends with many of my friends, but I have never known him very well. We are going to his place tomorrow for a bbq. Larry had befriended him on FB, so I did last night as well. He has really beautiful blue eyes and,I don't know..he looks vaguely like a young (but graying) Elvis to me. I was stalking his FB page and noticed that he liked The Saints, and also The Scientists (and I haven't meant anybody in ages that liked them well enough to list them on FB) so that made me feel connected to him, which is really teenager-ish of me, stupid. Anyways, hmm...crushes (especially secret ones)are fun. I would never act upon anything, obviously, but I can still fucking look can't I? L must surely feel the same way about somebody? Maybe not.

We are going to pick stawberries today. Maybe I should not be wearing a knee length black eyelet skirt?

And Good God, I hope nobody that lives in this town secretly reads this (I feel embarrassed talking about the silly new crush)>>According to my "site meter" only 1 person in Oregon (up closer to Portland) reads this. I wonder who the fuck that is? In fact, I often wonder if all of my readers are fellow diaryland friends or are random strangers or somewhere in between? Identify yourselves! :)