My vacuum…has a bed of hair under it. Mostly mine. I think I lose more hair (the average is supposedly 50-100 strands a day) when I am stressed.

But today, I walked out of my apartment with my hair uncombed, unbrushed. Just ran my fingers through it…once!

~

I love what my sister wrote in her blogee:

Now, prior to this puff of anger, I was sitting on the stupid Regents shuttle. I will demonstrate to you my level of madness. I was the only one on the shuttle and I dropped my calculator to the floor. I couldn\’t reach it so I had to get down to the floor on my knees and reach under the seat. I thought the driver was staring at my butt so then I began to fume, muttering phrases under my breath. Then what happens, my sunglasses go under, and down I go again. I come back up, flustered, and fumed louder. I started talking to myself with my ugly little hoarse voice, and it was brutal! I began thinking about boys and how so many of them in the past have irritated me with their stupid little hormones flying around my poor little self. I began envisioning myself with balls dangling from my necklace. What kind of balls you ask? The very epitome of masculinity, that is what? Am I brutal? No. Some boys just were meant to be deprived of their tiny precious jewels.

Sniff, I feel so proud to be her older sister. You lady go lady!