anyone have a razor?

i was hanging out with my good friend, mr. walnuts, last nite. we were sitting on his roof sipping some earl grey tea at the end of the nite. we chatted about all sorts of stuff, but something he said (mostly) stuck with me (please excuse my hazy head). we were talking about, i don't know, something boring like work. i mentioned the itch. you know, that time in a job or relationship (not this time!) or whatever when one wonders what more is out there. there's this thirst for knowledge and truth that just doesn't die in some of us. in some, it dies a painful, often quick, death; in others, it never existed in the first place. some of those people become quite content with their lives with the absence of change, and that's fine. others like me sometimes want to explore more, though i occasionally fear that my sense of adventure is fading away. i admit i crawl into that hole that is my private life and hide sometimes for longer than i should. but if i don't always fulfill my desire to move somewhere far, far away, i find a lesser way to change things up a bit.

i've had somewhere in the neighborhood of 7 jobs in 4 different towns in the past 11 years. i like variety. i do not fear change (my hair on my head and on my face change with regularity, for example). on that note, why do people fear hair? i've been treated significantly differently (definitely looked down upon) when i have a beard, when i rock the faux hawk, when my hair is a tad shaggy. who says i have to be clean-cut (which i am sometimes) to do my job well or to be a friendly guy? screw you, uptight beardists!

mr. walnuts concisely reminded me that it takes a significant level of maturity to realize accept the way that we are, especially if it's not accepted by many, and if it takes us, even slightly, out of our comfort zone. doesn't sound so deep and meaningful, but it feels that way. i might think he were merely trying to make me feel better if we weren't like-minded about much.

my friend, mr. poussee, who has been commuting 3 hours (90 min. each way), mon-fri, for 9 years simply because he was not really comfortable moving. fair enough, he's my good buddy and there's no way i look down on him for that, but i definitely don't understand it. i should say that i'm glad he's been around; we always have a good time, especially when there's a driving competition between him and my alter ego, mr. courvee. my porsche 959 rules!

yippie-kiyay,
mr. falcon