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2004-02-02 @ 10:21 p.m.
the importance of tear-away-titty-protectors

Wardrobe Maladjustment?

Thatís not the only maladjustment, Janet. Whatís up? Been sitting in your brother Michaelís shadow too long? He of course had the Young Boys Sleeping in his Bed Maladjustment. Thatís a little more serious than seeing the work on some overpriced Beverly Hillís plastic surgeon. Who knows, maybe youíll get a nipple hardware endorsement deal.

Oh, did anyone see the streaker on the Super Bowl? I didnít see it. My mom told me about it. I guess some poor dude decided to show his shortcomings on national television.

Can you imagine his frustration though. Heís probably been planning this for months. Going to the gym everyday. Watching old Schwarzenegger movies. Making bets down at the bar... ĒIím going to run naked in front of 140 million people...Iíll be famous! ďAnd then boom. Tough luck, dude. You should know better than to follow a Jackson.

So, I was thinking of trying a wardrobe maladjustment on the bus this week. Of course I will have to wear my dominatrix outfit with tear-a-way titty protectors, although I think it might be at the cleaners. Isnít that always the way? Just when you get the urge to emulate your favorite celebrity in some big way, some little detail totally fucks it up. And of course there is the illegal aspect of it. Flashing people. Isnít there a law about that?

Besides, it would just be my luck to peel off all twelve layers of winter coats and sweaters, have Justin Timberlake waiting nearby (that is, if he can disengage his mouth from Cameron Diaz long enough) and it would be on one of those buses in town equipped with cameras.

And then my intense need for love and adulation, through grossly inappropriate behavior, would be captured for all eternity and probably shown on some poorly watched cable show with a viewership of three. Me, the weird guy down on the corner and Zenshrink.

Oh, and Iíd also be arrested. But think of the new friends Iíd make in jail...Hatchetface and Butch. They like that leather stuff. And they like me...they really really like me. Finally my fragile beauty will be recognized for what it is...available and ready to be taken in the womenís shower area.

Holy shit, where did that come from? I donít know. My friend recently said in an e-mail that her life was really boring compared to mine. She said, You have so many ďadventuresĒ! With adventures in quotes. Wasnít sure how to take that. My life is not all that exciting. Most days Iím either struggling financially, emotionally or physically or just calculating how long it will be before the mold overtakes my bathtub. I donít exactly think that is grist for ďadventuresĒ.

There is a great line in the movie ďWho Framed Roger RabbitĒ. The sexy animated female character in it, Jessica Rabbit, says something to the effect, ďIím not sexy, Iím just drawn that way.Ē Well, that is sort of how I am.

Iím not interesting, Iím just written that way.

Iíve even told my shrink that. Iím more interesting in print than in person. So he decided to attempt to walk me through a first date. No not that! But making small talk. Showing interest in someone. Being warm and personable, but unfortunately, I am incredibly shy in person. I do have a good sense of humor and will throw out some great one-liners, but as far as being the life of the party or wearing a lampshade on my head, Iím more likely to be hiding in plain sight than be noticed.

But I did dye my hair tonight. Iíve been dyeing it since my twenties, because that was when I started getting gray hair. I actually had gray hair in high school. I was sitting in Chorus one day when suddenly I felt a little prick of pain on the top of my head. I was like WTF? So I turned around, rubbing my head and said ďwhat was that?Ē The girl behind me said she had seen a gray hair sticking up and decided to pluck it for me. Just yank that sucker by the roots! I was really angry and told her not to do that again, but then I went home, and checked out the crown of my head and sure enough, there were like 3 gray hairs. In high school! Fruck!

So I am an old pro at dyeing my hair. Itís a little more difficult now that my hair is way past my shoulders, but I used this new brand tonight. Feria Highlights.

A piece of advice. Never buy hair dye without wearing your glasses. It seems that rather than picking up my usual dark brown, I picked up ďDeep BurgundyĒ. And not only did it dye my hair, but my scalp is also a new unique shade of burgundy/demented Irish girl red as well.


I tried scrubbing the color out of my scalp, but it is really in there. So I thought, ok, Iíll blow dry my hair out, so its thick and you wonít notice the ďainít-purplish/red-hair-and-a-glowing-scalp-cute-on-a-45-year-old-womanĒ look. Christ, now I look like Winona Judd.

And my shrink appointment is in the morning. Am hoping he wonít notice the slight variation from normalcy in the hair department. And if he does, maybe he will realize, Iím stunning no matter what color my hair fibers are, right?

So, as you can see, the highlight of the day, was accidentally dyeing my hair purple. Oh what excitement! Oh what ďadventureĒ! Isnít it (cough)exciting?

...youíre reading it arenít you?

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Lyrics by Lennon/McCartney. All angst copyright by awittykitty