I just got my hair cut. And by cut, I mean I got my extensions taken out. It’s an adjustment that I’m confused about. Apparently my face looks less fat when I have short hair, but I feel more confident with longer hair? Grammatically, that shouldn’t be a question mark, but I’m posing the question to myself, I suppose.
Also, I have a real knack for saying the worst possible thing at the worst possible time. For instance. I see one of my neighbors out of the open window here at Raintree, and begin going on about how he has a “Butterfinger milkshake face” and is, essentially, “everything that is wrong with the world.” Milliseconds later, said neighbor knocks on the door. Considering he said almost nothing to me while he was here, I’m positive he heard every single word. Sorry, man. I’m sure there are other people who contribute to the world’s inadequacies.
I think I’m the only one at Dixie State College who isn’t stressed out about finals. I need to kick it into gear, though! I bet the stress will come on all in good time. And then it won’t be a good time. But, as for now, I’m very content living in disillusionment.
She and Him are glorious. Really truly. I love them.
SHE is still great. I'm glad she's my friend.