Thursday, September 25, 2014

Who do I know in France?

Google told me today 21 people checked my blog from France. Thank you very much my lovely French fans. I hadn't realized my blog posts were internationally read. Well, keep reading and eat some pastries for me. Oh, I know about French pastries. I've had some experiences with them and my sister ate them all the time for breakfast during her mission for the LDS church.

In other news, I'm ruminating about my hair. Usually when I do that, it's a good time for a trim. Better a trim than a hedge clipping. If you ask my immediate family to confirm, they will agree I have a hair cutting compulsion. Sometimes I just cut through everything into baldness. Then I can do crazy and fancy things with my hair instead of feeling burdened by the difficulty of brushing and styling my luxurious locks.

Charles knows I can be a little obsessive about certain things and a touch melodramatic. He also loves my long hair. I recently asked him how straight of a cutter he is. He said average thereby failing his first test ever. After asking why, answer: to save us $20, he got a worried look on his face. Why you look so worried Charlie?

Yesterday, I shared a cutting clip with Charles on Facebook. Later that night, while Charles was in the oblivion of homework, I took my weekly shower and pinned my hair back. I did it to remind myself how I looked with short hair. I don't necessarily want to have short hair, I just need a break from having all this hair everywhere, all the time. I settled into the couch and read my book.

When Charles finished his homework, he came over to say hi and had a heart attack. Poor guy. Apparently my hair pinning looked terribly realistic and with his knowledge of my low impulse control he even felt the knot behind my head a couple times to make sure I hadn't pulled a 4 yr old trick. I have since been commanded to get a trim today of two inches and to forget the hacking impulses of yesterday. Ah, young love.

On a similar note, I am a reading addict. I love to read. To read is my friend. To read and I like to hang out. We can spend the whole day together and still want to interact at night. Woot. To read and me forever and always.

When I was younger I would get my name on the board for reading during lessons. I wouldn't realize my teacher had started on lessons after our spelling tests and so Kimberly was placed next to me to wake me out of my reading stupors.

I would walk the hallways of my middle school, erstwhile reading novels during passing periods. There's only so much time and there are many books. Don't waste this precious commodity by walking or eating without a book. Such was my motto. (Sometimes instead of walking, I run. Same reason).

I know, I'm a total weirdo. At least now I go to bed at a normal time instead of reading until 3. I've done that before. Now I have a job, so I can't spare the sleep. I do need like 9 hours a night to function normally. So nice.

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