krikk

wine poached pears in heavy cream
water crackers with cream cheese and freshly made salsa

Having long hair has long been my goal since I cut my waist long hair off in the seventh grade. Shorter hair is so much more convenient; no static, no tangles, and it kept my trichotillomania in check for the most part, but long hair is prettier. And vanity wins in the long haul.

I got a military haircut sometime in the middle of May during boot camp. It’s okay now that it’s grown out. The front is finally past my chin and the back is creeping towards my shoulders. I think I want some side-swept bangs and a few honeyed highlights, but actual cuts are BIG NO-NOS.

Waist long may be too much for me now, boobie-length should suffice.

Some ideas:
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I suppose this might mean different things to different people. Like what defines “making the most?” Some girl I once knew thought it was unspeakable that, instead of going clubbing on Friday nights, I felt it was much better spent curled up with a good book. She said, and I quote “Girl, what kind of life is that?”

The thought of clubbing makes me ill. Other people say “making the most” is jumping out of airplanes or white water rafting. I don’t know what I think would be a good definition but I have seven more years ahead of me. Hopefully I’ll have it myself figured out then.