Whenever I endure a stretch of crazy days, I wish I could be like Evie on that show, Out of This World. I have always believed that the power to stop time is the most efficient superpower to have, far more useful than x-ray vision and worlds better than flying. I would never want the ability to fly. For one, I don’t think a high altitude would make me seem skinnier. Also, I don’t want my gigundo body blocking out the sun. Nothing ruins a day more than causing a solar eclipse because you’ve been eating bacon all week.
When I was 13, my oldest sister grabbed my hair and sawed off a thick, jagged ponytail. My mother was off-island and so she decided to punish me because I had sneaked out of my house the night before to hang out with my boyfriend and his friends, sipping beer and acting so cool. A 13-year-old misbehaving? How unique! What a shining post-pubescent diamond! Though I have long since overcome the hatred harbored toward her for wrecking my looks and transforming my soft locks into a boycut/fro (a bro-fro!), I have never been comfortable with anything shorter than a shoulder length cut.
But if I told you my hair actually looks like this, would you advise me to just cut off all my hair and start over?
I took this photo a few weeks ago at my very pregnant friend Kim’s baby shower. The game was to feed a partner baby food while both of you were blindfolded. And you know what? No one thought my Abu Ghraib references were very funny.