'I love the feeling of communicating through the iris of the eye. When I know...and you know. You with me?'I was gifted that little jewel from my hairdresser. She's obviously a little nuts. And if you actually followed what she said, you may be a little nuts as well. What a bold statement, coming from me.
I know everything about my hairdresser, TMI Tess, and I've seen her twice. It's really awkward, being bound to a chair while a scissor-wielding stranger discloses every intimate detail of her life to you. Career moves. Relationship drama. Face lift results (with before and after photos). I don't know my role in the whole exchange, and it makes me a little anxious. Are we friends? Should I reciprocate with a story from my childhood? I just don't know, TMI Tess. I just don't know.
I should thank TMI Tess, really. She has inspired me to enlist the help of my readers: I beg you, take me out of rotation if ever I begin making statements like this:
'I am an ageless creature. I am a legend.'
I'm neurotic today because...
...my fear of excessive self-disclosure has prompted me to develop a system of checks and balances, whereby I will be immediately ousted from Blogger if I start talking gibberish and/or attempting to make profound statements using eye anatomy.
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