The Man Haircut Store – July 2016

It’s been a long cold winter here in Melbourne. At least that’s what people tell me – since I was in the summertime US for 5 weeks I’m not minding it so much. By cold, they mean it’s been down to 30 degrees Fahrenheit a couple times. But that can feel pretty cold when you’re waiting in the wind and rain for a tram, or to cross the street on the way to the grocery store. And it's dark by 5pm for what feels like many months in a row, although it's probably only a couple.

One of my favourite things about Brunswick, the suburb where I live, is that it’s unapologetically hipster. Lots of tattoos, and man-buns (examples here and here), and those earrings that stretch out people’s earlobes until they can put a car tire in them. Hair of many unnatural colors. There's a guy who wears a cape (very sparkly) to work at a beauty shop. And beards – so many beards (on the guys) of all shapes and sizes, generally natural colors.

So one of my favourite things about my walk home in the wet chilly winter weather in Brunswick is a shop called Barber Black Sheep (yes, really. And if you remember Aussies don't usually say r's at the end of their words...). It’s between the grocery store and my apartment, which also happens to be between my usual tram stop and my apartment. I usually walk by it at some point every night. They sell some clothes. They have a stuffed fox in the front window. It’s all rough, horizontal wood paneling on the walls. There are three old school barber chairs with the cushions and the buttery leather, all placed deliberately to not be facing the same way. The mirrors in front of the chairs are big old wooden dresser kind of mirrors. The lighting is… welcoming. Bright and warm – but not soft. And the barber chairs are most evenings occupied with bearded guys, having a beer and getting their hair or beards trimmed by other guys with man buns or giant mustaches. I really have no desire to enter that space, it’s clearly man space, but it makes me happy every time I walk by. A warm oasis in the chilly night where a man can drink beer whilst having a shave with a warm towel and a straight razor. It’s like a strangely modern old American west oasis in the middle of a busy metropolitan Australian suburb. I enjoy just basking in its light on my way home.

Do you know what the penalty is for an overdue book? – July 2016

So thanks to my friend since 5^th grade Zhaleh (who is now an optometrist) and the stern lecture I got from her about having glasses with the wrong prescription, and then an eye exam to get me the proper one, I have new glasses for the first time in about 5 years. Don’t try this at home, readers, it really screws up your head to have glasses with the wrong prescription. (And yes, I know, DUH. And thanks to my friend here, Jess, also an optometrist, who told me this a year ago. Should have listened then.)

They seem much larger than my old ones, and there’s some uncertainty about whether they are blue or green (which made me think of my college roommate Lezli’s car – we argued once a week about whether that was blue or green). I mostly wear them at work, since my eyes are tired from too much on screen reading. On this particular Friday, I was at the office wearing jeans, a button up shirt with a v-neck sweater over it, and I had my hair up because too lazy to wash it. I saw myself in the mirror in the bathroom and instantly thought of this scene from Bones a few years ago: 

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UfgF3uLAkfk
(that link doesn't work anymore - here's a longer one, the book scene is at minute 2:19-2:32: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=F3zTD02u11Q)

and then I burst out laughing.

Thank goodness our office bathrooms are not at all soundproof.