Maybe I am vain. My girlfriend suggested the possibility while I inspected my left nostril, which is considerably smaller than the right. I think the imbalance occurred after a reconstructive surgery several years ago. Were my nostrils uneven prior to that event? Surely I would have noticed. Either the surgeon is at fault or I became vain in in the summer of 2002.
I wasn't actually inspecting the size of the nostril but rather the hairs coming out of it. What is it with my twenty-third year? I'm sprouting the stuff from my nose, and I'm ready to buy a family pack of Nair if it exists. My girlfriend told me not to use the word sprout. She says sprouts are edible, so I'll call them hairs.
Tail between my legs, I went to Eckerd to pick up the tweezers. Now I know what it means to be a man. Welcome to puberty 2.
I will give periodic literary reviews this summer. Kinsella's Shoeless Joe will be worth your time, but I honestly think the film was more polished. Read the book if you're looking for a few more dreamers to go with Ray, Moonlight and Mann.
I started The Catcher in the Rye yesterday. Salinger's writing style is great. He rambles like Kerouac, but I don't mind listening this time.