I used to shave my head maybe once a year, and my mother would say, "I prefer your hair long and artsy, not short and Nazi." This is when my parents got a divorce and I felt weird and powerless, but also powerful because HEY, I could get tattoos and shave my head and bake cookies whenever I wanted. I liked how not having hair showed off that I have a pretty nice skull. I feel like I have no secrets when I have no hair. Like I can't hide in my hair. Anyway. I'm not a Nazi.
The last Harry Potter movie is out, but I'll be quiet about my excitement because I believe magic and religion are very private matters.
Abbi is going to Denver for a fewish weeks to be a governess. I'm not kidding. She has a carpet bag that goes on for miles. One of my college friends is coming to visit while Abbi is gone. This college friend used to tell me I baked too much and didn't I know what sugar did to my body? Also, when I shaved my head, she said, "Maybe your forehead pimples will clear up now." Lest you think my college friend is evil, I used to tell her exactly what I thought of her boyfriends. We also peed in a jar as part of an art project. Another college friend helped us get enough pee in the jar. It was a large jar. The pee turned brown because it was in the jar for so long.
I have a story up in the July issue of PANK Magazine. I wrote it when I was obsessed with crushes. Right now, I'm obsessed with crocheting enough granny squares to cover the coffee table. The colors I'm using might induce seizures, which is too bad because I honestly do have epilepsy and I haven't been medicated for over three years.