No, I Did Not Get My Hair Cut

Published 22.5.05 by Porkchop | E-mail this post

Iva and Boyfriend came over, both of them being Beautiful People, they like to lavishly compliment. So, they were commenting on how lovely my hair looked and began plying me with questions as to how it got to this highly unusual state. Boyfriend, putting on his deeply perceptive face, says insightfully "I know, you got your hair cut."

To which I sweetly replied "No, no, I simply fixed my hair."

(I would like to comment that they have a knack of popping by whenever I look my worst. Normally in the throws of baking cookies, in my pajamas.)

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This odd narrative is my life. I ended up in Pittsburgh, of all places--from the beach. I have no hobbies, other than cooking excessively and eating microwave popcorn. I enjoy shopping, the Food network, hiding the remote so the Food network cannot be turned off, find ethnic food stores and restaurants and reading voraciously. My life is decidedly pedestrian.

I worked in the car business where I was required to be ruthless and soul-less wench, which is when I started this project. Since then, I've kept it up because secretly, I've always wanted to join the military. Every male in my mother's family has joined and I quietly entertain thoughts of joining. I haven't yet and don't know if I ever will, but sending the troops cookies keeps me sane. it makes me think I still have a shred of human kindness left in my withering soul. it's a small way for me to salute the men and women who are brave enough to fight for freedom. And makes me feel like I'm contributing toward troop morale--even if I'm not. So if you want to help, send me addresses of troops you know stationed overseas. you may also contribute toward the cost of chocolate chips, but don't feel obligated, that link is here only by request.

No, I Did Not Get My Hair Cut

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