Oct6: Vive la France!

So today I was sitting in a meeting and I found myself rubbing my chin between my thumb and my pointer finger trying to look pensive, scholarly, or if I were lucky both. Usually when I try this I just end up looking confused and perplexed...However, I figure that with constant practise that one day I will master the pensive stare along with all of the appropriate gestures to suggest that I truely do care and that I am not, indeed, thinking about a beach somewhere in Maui. You would think that after 7 years of college, 6 years of work and 5 years of marriage that I would be a master by now...but no, I think I need a Sensai (think Karate Kid) to show me the way!

Anyhow, before I got distracted in that last paragraph I noticed that I had a little beard stubble. Stubble, at work...and it is not even noon yet to have my noon-o'clock shadow?! Oops, I did not shave this morning. "No biggie," I thought...but then I thought again and wondered when the last time I actually shaved for two days in a row? Hmmm...either my memory is slipping or I am sub-consciously trying to be like Brett Favre or Tom Brady (except I do not have a rocket arm with lazer precision). "Yeah, that must be it," I thought.

To distract myself I combed my fingers through my hair in another attempt to look like I was rigorously pondering a key point that was just made. Then I noticed, "Durn, my hair is long...when was my last haircut?" I only heard crickets. "Well, of course, long hair is the trendy thing these days...it shows that I am still young 'n hip," I convinced myself. To be honest with you I was starting to get a little worried...when did I stop caring?!

The first break of the meeting did not come a moment too soon because I desperately needed to confirm that, despite just turning 30, I was still hip 'n trendy and not just sloppy and forgetful. So I went and looked at myself in the bathroom mirror and realized that somewhere in my travels today that the top 2 buttons of my shirt came undone as well. My chesthair was flowing gracefully in the breeze, my hair was sticking straight up and out (like a chia-pet), and my beard stubble seemed to have caught some tissue from blowing my nose earlier. Today I think that I can finally call myself an honorary French man!

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