It’s all come to an end. Not only has the snow finally melted, bringing millions of birds to our yard, but my hair was trimmed by a Caucasian person today. It was disappointing to walk in and not see anyone of color perched smiling behind their chair, motioning me over. The people who were working seemed almost apologetic to service me, as if they knew there was something wrong with the situation. But we somehow got through it together, and I guess it’s ok.

Last night I read Augusten Burroughs’ hilariously twisted novel Sellevision. It revolves around several employees of a cable shopping network and their utterly ridiculous lives. In an effort to get a visible minority presence, all network employees are asked to look into their backgrounds to see if there is any African, Asian, or Native American blood coursing through their veins. If anyone happened to be ethnic, even in some small way, the network could avoid hiring a true minority. One hostess discovers despite looking completely Irish, she has a Native American ancestor several generations back. Later, her mother informs her they were mistaken, she is just Irish. The woman, who had taken to parting her hair in the middle and wearing it straight, and wearing turquoise jewelry tearfully admits to a coworker that she’ll have to take down the Indian artifacts and miniature teepee she had set up in her apartment.

That’s kind of how I feel this afternoon. My ethnic identity has been stripped away. Suddenly, I’m just a guy of Northern European descent with really good hair. Not that there’s anything wrong with that. It was just nice to be part of “the community” and “el barrio” even if for a brief moment in time.

Who’s up for going to the Gap?

Happy weekends to all. The next time you hear from me may be from LA. Mmmm, In ‘n Out Burger!