January 21, 1999.

"I'll roshambo you for it."

- robert smith; south park

I think that it might have been a mistake to purchase "Disintegration" this afternoon, on a day and a week and a month in which I feel particularly fine. In fact, I bought it in a surge of good spirits brought on by my fave second hand bookstore having the exact book I needed. Now I'm wondering if that was such a good idea. I prolly should've waited until my next heartbreak...this is pretty downcast stuff. Damn it! I will not let Robert Smith win this round!

Bastard.

Was shocked out of my skull at Diabolo's this afternoon. I was quietly reading the local rag when who should I catch sight of? Ophelia. We ignored each other magnificently, but it almost undid me when I saw that she too has gone from a sleek platinum blonde bob to shorn auburn locks. This isn't the first time...we've unconsciously echoed each other since we met. At that point, we both had long straight dark brown hair. Over the Xmas break, we both got stupid looking layers. In the spring, we both cut it off. When my hair began to go artificially blonde, so did hers.

For some reason, we're perpetually tuned into the same mental radio station where hair is concerned...even when we have no contact with each other. It's quite freaky when you think about it.