Some friends they are. I ask for some support and all I get is a bunch of naysaying.
Julie's reaction is not surprising. Even Richie's, to an extent. But Mike? That hurts. I thought he would understand. I thought he would believe in me.
I guess not.
Whatever. It's not like I even care what they think. If I say I'm ready for this, then I'm ready for this. And I am. I know it.
I can feel it.
I'll soon be the embodiment of masculinity. And they'll all be jealous.
I'm growing a beard and nothing's gonna stop me.
And there we have story the second.
Months ago (longer then I would like to admit, to be honest), I promised a friend of mine I would write her a story about growing a beard. When I brought it up, it was mostly in jest, but she really clinged onto the idea and has been badgering me to get the story written since I originally brought up the idea. I haven't been making a ton of progress on that (read: none), so I decided maybe I could start thinking about the idea a little more seriously. This little yarn is the fruit of that labour.
I'm still not quite certain how I'll go about executing this particular idea, but the concept of a narrator trying to prove his friends wrong is likely to be my starting point. From there, I figure he's going to have a harder time growing a beard than he expects. Fortunately for him, he won't be one to admit his inability. As his beard continues to grow slowly (or not grow at all), the narrative will follow as the narrator slowly loses his grasp on reality. A little extreme, perhaps, but I'm hoping it'll make for an amusing story, at the very least.
My friend is out of country at the moment, but if I'm lucky, I'll be able to get that beard growing story done before her return. It would make for a good homecoming gift, methinks.