So I have this super crappy fuzzy picture of the hat from a few days ago. I’m posting it in lieu of good writing. I don’t know why I was having so much trouble focusing on the damn thing. It looked like it was good, but no. It is fuzzy. It is uncooperative. It is a prima donna. Which, in all honesty, is probably fitting. I mean, the hat looked good before, it was just a tad too big. I couldn’t live with it like that so I had to rip it out and start over. Maybe because I am a prima donna. In the perfectionist sense. As if that made any sense. How many sentences in a row can I use the word sense? Anyway, I’m having a hard time staying faithful to any knitting at the moment. Other things seem to be getting in the way. Like falling asleep. Or, um, margaritas.
So about the hair, because it’s my current obsession. Also, maybe my bane. I’ve got some craziness going on here. I used to have straight hair. STRAIGHT. It’s not as straight as it used to be, but it’s not exactly wavy or curly either. It’s just…..not straight. Anyway, I think I’ve finally decided that I want to grow it out. That maybe if I grow it out, it’ll finally do something more….normal? I don’t know if that’s wishful thinking or not, but that’s the plan. Also, should I ever threaten to shave my head out of frustration, someone please remind me that I’ve decided to grow this mop out. Thanks.
I remember you with long hair….pretty.
Come on, you can do it! Ofcourse I would never tell you what to do with your head ’cause it’s your head….but grow it out again…let me live vicariously through you, my hair doesn’t look good long,
puh-lease
-cel
When I was a junior in college, I got it in my mind that I wanted to shave my head. So I called my mother at about 2:30 on a Thurday afternoon, after I got out of classes, and said, “Mom, would you hate me if I shaved my head?”
And she replied, “Have you been drinking?”
*sigh*