Or the account of my decline into barbarism (and all of the lovely, mad people who helped me do it).

Sunday, February 21, 2010


I answered the door in a green men's button-down and a pink lace bra.

He asked, "Whose shirt is that?"

"It's a boy's shirt." I replied coyly.

"Yeah. Whose?"


I've given up swearing (yeah, right) and self-deprecation for Lent. No self-loathing for forty days? I flip my hair, say, "Easy."

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