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writegirl@altavista.com
Hair, Beautiful Hair
I have been growing my hair. ALL of my hair. It is a cavegirl experiment. I want to see exactly how hairy I am au natureal.
It is autumn, crisp and rushing toward winter here in the center of the U.S. yet I am still wearing little tank tops mostly because of my now longer hair. I love the way it feels against my shoulders, smooth and ticklish.
For all of this “growing out”, I didn’t seem to end up very hairy. When I was up on a mountaintop my friend T said, “The girls here are downright wooly mammoths, you are too bare, better that you stay at a lower elevation.”
“Yes, that and the ear popping, the gasping for air…I’ll be back for skiing this winter, but no, I will never plant myself here. Wrong hair pattern.”
I did take advantage of my hirsute self. Had to. I created a nasty little website called The Yolk of an Outsider: aka Portrait of a Lesbian Stripper. Is it wrong to take some little pictures of oneself? to spoof oneself? You tell me.
Wine me, dine me, 69 me.
A burglar once asked what scent I wore. I didn’t answer him. Here’s the answer: Pear Body Spray. It mixes up with my girlskin fragrance and creates some kind of incandescent explosion.
I am also quite fond of au de rose by Crabtree & Evelyn. It is an archaic rosewater that Victorian women used to wash out their “dainties.” The fragrant dying rose scent perfectly contrasts the sweltering days of summer.
For winter I will switch to Noa.
Add a blind whiff of Dove soap and basically that is me.
Now don’t go buying it for your girlfriend, Dean. I am not her. I am no one’s girlfriend.
Next week I will shave.