This post is dedicated to and inspired by Hippie Cahier who wrote, “What’s Next?”.
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If I am in a public place, I will find a spot where I can be discrete. Then, I will do whatever it takes to locate the hair that is brushing against my arm, tickling my stomach, or moving up and down with every blink of my eye.
Strands of my hair seem to fall out on a regular basis. When the strands get caught in my shirts, skirts, bras, eye lashes, etc., I will not rest until I can locate the irritant and remove it. If it means I have to pull off my shirt to locate the sucker, I will.
After reading Hippie’s most recent post, I came to a realization. Actually, I had the realization months ago, but her post (and the hair caught in my shirt) created the perfect metaphor for me. Continue reading “The Hair Meets the End of the Line”
UPDATE: I’ve tagged. I’ve tagged. I repeat – I have tagged. You’ve been warned.
When I was a kid, I played tag: plain tag, freeze tag and television tag. Nowadays, kids don’t play the game of tag from yesteryear. Now, kids play social media tag.
Faces are tagged in pictures posted on Facebook, hash-tags are used when tweeting and now – the blogosphere is taking part in the social media game of tag. Of course, here – within the blogosphere, tag is the nice way of saying ‘chain letter’.
Well, I was tagged; and because I really like my blogging buddy, I’m accepting her
chain letter tag and playing the game. Continue reading “A chain. Yes, a bloody chain.”
“Lenore, the way you talk to yourself cracks me up.”
“It’s sad, isn’t it?”
“Sad? No, I wouldn’t call it sad. Though, if I didn’t know you, I’d call it weird.”
“Please. I think talking to myself is one of the more normal things about me.” Continue reading “The conversation”