this is summer?

Strong winds are added to the mix of wet, cold and dank.  The start of the Memorial Day Weekend and it's 47°.  Still, I’d prefer that to 87° if I’m stuck in the city. 

My hair is out of control ugly. I washed it this morning and didn't bother to blow it dry, given the rainy, damp weather.  The white roots near my path make me look like Cruella de Vil, according to Alexander.  I pull it back into a small ponytail that doesn’t help at all.

Last week I felt a small pre-cancerous rough patch of skin above my lip — a tiny tiny thing that my dermatologist froze off.  It has since morphed into a not tiny thing that resembles a herpes-like scab.  In short, I look hideous.

I ask Alexander to take a picture.  He doesn’t want to, but gives in.  In a span of about 30 seconds, he takes 54 pictures (so I won't ask him again).  This is the best one.  My roots aren’t showing, nor is the mess on my upper lip.

 

I decide to venture out despite my hair and lip. I go to the NY Historical Society to see a great exhibit on World War II and NYC. I try to convince Alexander to come with me but even a bribe doesn't work.  

The exhibit ends on Monday.  I get there and it's mobbed. But I don't see a single person I know. Good.

Unrelated computer tip:  

I found out how to make a degree sign on a Mac keyboard.  Shift-option-8.  In case you ever need it.