hair; cleo

Have a picture of the hair I cut from my head tonight!



Exciting!

I don't know how I can take that risk, time and again, yet not be able to muster the guts to risk a new hairdresser. Somehow I feel much better if my hair is felled by my own hand.
I almost did not say felled, but rather fucked, but on re-read that sounded confusingly disgusting. Try it, if you want to be confusingly disgusted!

I feel lame, so I thought the best thing would be to write a lame entry to spread the lameness of me. Yes, so clearly best. It was a bad day at school and I don't know why. Just because I am not at all suited to teaching? That is how it feels, sort of, but more specifically that I am not at all suited for MY LIFE OR ANYTHING I WANT. oooooooooo, angsssssssssssssttttttt. How it hisses inside of me, some days.
Here is a picture of my new hair, if you were worried back there, looking at the felled hair:



I am afraid to take a picture of the very back. I believe there is a peculiar hole, there, toward the bottom. But believing is not seeing, and as long as I refuse to see, my faith in the hole shall waiver.

I might post a bunch of songs as a mix for you all, though maybe 2 of you will download a handful, if even that. You louses. I won't do it today because I don't feel like it. Soon though, if at all.
Oh boy! Get ready! Or, not!

Here is the movie I got from netflix, when tired of Joseph Campbell and his mythpower talk:
Cleo From 5 to 7


A French New Wave film I only recently became aware existed! Wowee zowee! An alienated, pretty young woman! How fun! I will tell you how it is, later.