Hair today I went to the hairdressers yesterday. I always go to Michelle in Lunatic Fringe on Grafton St. I was all set for a big change, the way you are when there are changes in your life. When I told her that Himself and I are getting married next year, she refused to cut my hair or colour it. She very sensibly pointed out that the longer I grow it between now and then and the less I mess with it the more options I will have closer to the day. She is right I suppose. She still did a great job on my hair and let me have a little bit of colour.

Is there a doctor in the house? Oh no! Aaaaaaagh! Last night I went to a screening of “The Cabinet of Dr. Caligari“, a German Expressionist production, directed by Robert Wiene in 1919. It is a silent movie and was accompanied by an original score played live. Abs was playing the viola. I had never seen this film before but had of course read much about it and the genre when I was studying film noir in college. It is always interesting to see these cultural artefacts that are part of the canon. It is interesting because it makes you realise that so many film directors have also seen and read about these movies in their college days. The original score was very good although stopped and started at the oddest moments: when the hero meets the heroine for the first time it seems like an obvious spot to put in some heart swelling romantic music but the composer left a large blank. This happened at least twice and it was unsettling. As I write that it occurs to me that maybe this was more than a nod to expressionism and in keeping with the darker mode of the genre. I don’t know enough about music, art or movies to criticise.

Snared Rapid I arrived home by car at about 11. During the course of attempting to park the car I bumped into one of our neighbours’ cars. There’s no denying it. Anyone who knows our road (and one could argue anyone who knows my driving) will be amazed that this is the first time this has happened. It’s not the first time it’s happened: it’s the first timed I’ve been caught. The road is extremely narrow, exactly the width of 3 cars. I am of the school of thought that bumpers are for bumping. The lady in number 10 just happened to be looking out her window and “Did you not hear the loud crunch?” she asked me. Now, people, don’t be imagining that I have destroyed a vintage roller or a brand new merc. Ladies and gents, I may have been the person who cracked her rear fog light but I would imagine the large, pre-existing dent all down the driver’s side of 90 D Honda Civic would be a little more likely to affect the resale value of the “car”. Whatever. I told her to get it fixed and post the bill in to me. If the tables had been turned I wouldn’t have given a damn: I reckon it’s one of the pitfalls of living on this road and owning a car.

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