Had an unfortunate run-in with the talents and scissors of one Middling City hair stylist who swore he was adept at all things Bumble and Bumble. His interpretation of the haircut I had had was to send me out into the world with an oddball suburban 'do, slathered in product - as they love to say. I washed out said product and took some nice sharp little scissors I bought to cut Kennedy's hair to the bangs that I did so like and which were a disastrous heap. To more interesting result. As I like to say, It's only hair. In months and months it'll look, it'll be ready to take another stab at trust and cut.
On a less hairy note, I photographed the bald new Chancellor of SUNY system twice today - on his special tour of the earthquake center where all of us watched a 3 on the Richter scale faux quake, and later at a speecherific thing. He is John Ryan, very humble, referred to himself as Your bald Chancellor.
After the second gig and the furious burn of cd's for my editrix I saw the just-completed catastrophe of a two-car crash via one driver having sped through a red light.
Nobody was able to get out of their respective cars and three firetrucks were on the scene.
Do not, repeat, do not run red lights.
Oh, on a very light light note I laptopped at a very mediocre lunch joint near a puppy salon so, of course, I had to rush in and play with a few pups. Later, at the second portion of Chancellor Love, while talking to a few others, I realized I was covered in delicious puppy stank.

Puppy Stank Love.