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Steel on the Inside, Steel on the Outside? (Or, "On getting a haircut screwed up")

Life is funny.

About 36 hours ago, I wrote "Steel on the Inside, Silk on the Outside."

I think most guys are afraid to do this – to wear light colors, to go to a spa, to being silly and lighthearted, these traditionally feminine things. I think most guys go out of their way to appear tough, rugged, macho. And you know why? I think it’s because most of ‘em are soft on the inside, scared, powerless, aimless.

My philosophy is be as strong as steel on the inside, and light and gentle like silk on the outside.

[...]

Stuck in Canadian Customs

On Tynan

I slept most of the flight from San Francisco to Vancouver. I was up until one thirty in the morning the night before, and had to wake up at five in order to get to the airport on time, so I was exhausted. Upon arriving in Vancouver I shuffled half-asleep to the customs station, which I had to go through even though I was only connecting through Vancouver, not stopping there.

The agent asks my name, where I'm going, all the usual stuff. I reply, giving short answers. I always give short answers in customs because first, I'm sort of offended at how they treat you as though you're some kind of criminal, and two, because I figure the agent just wants to hear a succint answer and get on with her day.

"Where are your other bags?"

"I don't have any."

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