Something Shallow/Something Sweet

Something Shallow: Summer's winding down to its end, so Trin and I decided to have some fun with hair coloring before she's back to school and I'm back to work.  She ended up with blue streaks, and I ended up with pink (I wanted blue, but she called dibs on it first).  This should [hopefully] wash out before the first day of school, but if not, it won't be the first time students have seen me with pink hair (I tend to lose bets).

See, it's just a tiny bit, although the streaks do go all the way down the back. I'm going to miss them when they're gone.  I get bored with my normal hair color.  Same with boring car colors.  Remember how the fifties-era cars were every shade of the rainbow, from candy apple green to Pepto Bismol pink?  What happened to those days?  Now cars are all white, and black, and beige, and red.  Just standard medal colors.  I think I was comparing this to hair, but it's late and I forgot what point I was making, so moving on. 

Something Sweet:  I told my grandpa in my last e-mail that I was starting back to work next week, so now my manuscript was going to come screeching to a halt.  This was his reply:

Remember, when you return to work, keep a note pad and jot things down so they aren't lost forever.  A writer learns to manufacture time; a few minutes, at times an hour, squeezed in between your demanding activities, to keep his or her story alive and growing.  It's like being in love; always on your mind.  I'm thrilled at the possibility you may have inherited this gift . . . from somebody in the family. 

Love ya, Grandpa

I loved this response in general because he didn't let me off the hook.  He basically said, "Yeah, life's tough, now get back to writing."  But the part where he said "It's like being in love" moved the hell out of me.  I think it's because a) I've never heard my grandpa make a reference to make-your-heart-patter-type love before, and b) he understands that ridiculous passion for creating stories from a blinking cursor.