Though I did also quite like your brief flirtation with the bob.

Surprise, surprise, surprise...

Surprise, surprise, surprise...

Aside from the inevitability of my opinion, you cannot deny you rocked the bob with a smoking hotness. It was very glam and elegant on you.

Ahhhh. Just asked for and received permission to take a mental health day tomorrow.

Oh, Hec. It's far too late for mental health. You crazy, man. CRAAAAAAAZZZZZEEEEEE.

I only say that because I care.

I like the bob on me, in theory, but I love my long hair.

Usually.

I can't WAIT to get paid, for many reasons, but also because I am rooty to the max, and I hates it, preciousssss.

I miss having long hair, but I am in love with the cut I have now, so -- gotta stay short.

I found my college ID the other day -- I should scan it in so y'all can see 17-year-old Teppy. I look more or less the same, though my hair is much shorter now, I have gained about 2 dress sizes, and, finally, I'm starting to look my age. (I look about 15 in my college ID).

I like having long hair for playing with and flinging dramatically over my shoulder when the occasion demands it, but it looks so much better when it's up or pulled back, I'm thinking I should cut it.

Enjoy your mental health day, Hec.

Thanks for all of the encouragement. The day actually does seem to be improving a bit. Caffeine is an absolutely wonderful drug.

and I was all, "What's the big deal? I've always been able to read." Which from my perspective, I have--I can't remember a time before I learned.

I vividly remember the first word I read.

I was traveling in Europe after college (this part is a fast-forward) and after a month in English speaking countries and France I got to Italy. I got off the train farily late at night in a pretty dodgy part of Rome. I hadn't been able to connect with the friend I was supposed to stay with, I hadn't really eaten or slept much in about a day and a half, and I was wandering around Termini Station fairly bewildered trying to figure out what the hell to do.

I had studied French in HS and it had deteriorated considerably by then. In France I had been beating myself up for letting it slip, but I very suddenly realized that I had gotten along JUST FINE in French -- here I was lost. In France, if I stared at words for a few seconds they'd start to make at least enough sense for me to get the gist. In Italy I could look at a sign all day and it meant nothing. I looked from sign to sign to sign and had the very trippy experience of seeing letters I knew perfectly well and having them make zero sense.

Suddenly, I flashed on being three or four and sitting in my grandparents claw-foot tub and looking up at the shelf and reading the words "baby powder." I can feel it right now -- surrounded by water, staring at letters and having them make the words "baby powder." Then "Johnson & Johnson" "Mr. Bubbles" "Listerine" (not the green stuff, the brown cylindrical bottle with the big paper wrapper). It was a total eureka moment and it all came rushing back to me in a big noisy train station in Italy nearly two decades later.

It's reason 4,216 Lilty should go to Europe.

I wear it up a lot, esp. in summer, but I like being able to wear it up in so many ways.

I have no idea what my first reading word was. I don't even remember my parents teaching me letters. I just remember full-bore reading from 3 or so.

See, when I'm thinking about cutting my hair, I always think I can do so much with it long, wear it so many ways. But day to day, I'm lucky if I comb it before leaving the house, you know?