Okay, so first things first. Saul Williams’ new album, The Inevitable Rise and Fall of Niggy Tardust, is available starting today for either free or very cheap, depending on how genuinely altruistic you are and/or how easily you are guilted into giving up 5 bucks. (That’s £2.50 for my English heads…) I haven’t had a chance to listen to it yet, but it’s probably going to be one of the more interesting albums of the year when all is said and done…conscious black spoken word artist produced by Trent Reznor, aka Nine Inch Nails? Wow…

Second things next; (Cue bad Broadway theme music) I feel pretty, oh so pretty…

No, seriously. I’m still in a blue funk, but although I don’t look any different than I generally do, and in fact may have the worst case of bedhead I’ve ever had in my life, I feel all extra beautiful today. Believe me, it isn’t a physical thing(see third thing for more details on that) or for that matter a mental/emotional/intellectual thing(hence the blue funk). I just feel pretty, despite how I feel and how I’m sure I look. Something within me is saying, “I am woman, hear me purr…”

Okay, this is beginning to nauseate even me. So, onward multi-faith following soldiers…

Third thing last; let’s talk about body hair. I am not the type of person who finds body hair intrinsically revolting. I am also not an anti-shave hippie. As a matter of fact, I prefer beards on men and I think all grown people should have a little hair in strange places…there is nothing nice about looking nine when you’re fifty-three. However, some things are just ridiculous.

I say this because the other morning, I was shaping my eyebrows. Notice I say shaping, not plucking. Shaping involves removing  stray and unruly hairs, namely the ones that stop my eyebrows from being plural. Plucking involves making eyebrows resemble tadpoles or worse, pencil drawings. I’m not into that, I like having eyebrows. Anyway, I’m shaping my eyebrows, and for some reason also decided to inspect the spots on my chin. Reason number one I’m going back to vegetarianism…my skin is terrible. I didn’t have bad skin as a teenager, so the arrival of pimples in my mid-twenties is something completely new, fascinating and unwelcome in my body’s universe. I inspect each new facial blemish as though it’s going to get it’s own square on the periodic chart. And the other morning, while I’m inspecting, I find…

…wait for it…

…that I’m growing a beard.

Okay, not a beard. One long, soft, downy, damn-near-invisible hair hardly qualifies as a beard. Still, one hair on the chin of someone who is otherwise not all that hairy? Catastrophic. I spent ages debating on whether or not I should pluck it, and finally decided not to…simply because I think that one random hair will fall out in it’s own time or be suffocated by my face cream(which contains all kinds of nifty fruit acids that I hope eat facial hair). Also, I’m scared that if I pluck it, it will grow back all hard and bristly and bring lots of it’s hateful little barbed cousins along with it, and then I really will be growing a beard.

Those of you who see me on a regular basis are forbidden to stare at my chin next time we meet.

To be honest, this is another reason why I want to stop eating meat again. The hormones in commercially prepared bovines and whatnot are wreaking havoc with my system. And, when you eat meat, people automatically assume you eat all meats…somebody snuck some mutton on my plate the other day, and that is just uncalled for. Pass the radishes.

And now that you all know more about my physical self than you ever really wanted to, let me leave you with some classic, classic old-school Saul Williams performing the classic, classic old-school joint “Ohm”…as the final scene from the not so classic, not-aged well movie SlamNation.

Fourth things after; I help with a girl’s cell group on Wednesday nights and I want to just shout them out real quick…because spiritually speaking, they are rocking it. Last night, we had a discussion that encompassed, among other things, predestination and the whole idea of what makes a Christian a Christian…actions or belief or is it something more intrinsic than that? Peace ladies!

…and just to make the point a second time…nobody who sees me stares at my chin…okay?…