the other night i had a totally pathetic scene-from-a-movie moment. drunk on half a bottle of wine, home alone, cute dude that was supposed to come over had rainchecked our plans, i went into the bathroom. i cranked some sleater-kinney. i chopped the shit out of my hair.
i laughed maniacally and shook my head all over the place and thought “i was supposed to have therapy today and i didn’t. you happy now, maureen?”
this time was different than times past because i implemented a new device for keeping the floor clearer than usual of clippings. i took an old plastic shopping bag, split it, and wore it like a shawl. i smiled at my brilliance as it slipped around and, more than twice, spilled my hair ends onto the floor. i just kept chopping away. it felt good. a purge. a change.
when all was said and done, i stared in the mirror. i knew what nathan would say. he would say i looked like i belonged in twin peaks. it was true. from head to toe, it was true. even inside my brain!!!
2 comments:
old plastic shopping bag? legend rayford faulkner style?
success.
sort of. it was around my shoulders, though. cape-style.
i guess if rayford decided to chop away at his hair in a fit of half-drunk self-loathing boredom, he might don a similar getup. but with more sass than i.
Post a Comment