For Today I am a BoyToday I had a mini-gender crisis. I woke from 5 days of drinking-smoking oblivion, (what every Columbia kid does for 6 months to 10 years after and/or before graduation), to find that while I was too smashed to speak (or type a proper blog post, for that matter), I gave myself a ridiculous haircut. It's not crooked or gross. My innate white trash cosmetology skills kicked in at some point. But it leads me to resemble this Japanese schoolboy. Same cut, almost same color. Though mine is more cherry red than fire engine. I'd post a picture, but we've all seen the grainy badness that comes from my digital camera. The offer still stands: buy me a new camera and receive 82 naked pictures of your's truly. Free! In fact, I'll add on 10 more as a bonus. That's 92 naked pictures of Allison Quick in a variety of erotic costumes and poses. What a deal! (I should write ad copy. Heh.. or not.) So the crisis came when I went to the bathroom. Stood there naked, saw the deposits of fluff on my chest and ass that designate me as female. Saw the deposits of fluff everywhere else that designate me as chubby. Then saw the boy hair. And with the glasses. No.. it was just.. wrong. And then I remembered I haven't had sex in like, a week or two. Even more frightening, it's been my choice to abstain. I just don't feel sexy anymore, or like I need sex to validate my existance as a human, specifically as a woman. Bla bla.. Also, I work with a bunch of middle-aged ladies, so I mostly wear jeans and too-big sweaters all week. I knew I was well on my way to becoming a frigid, overly-androgynous blob (androgyny is hot, but not when it happens on accident). I had to do something girly. Putting on a dress would not be enough. So I got my nails did. They're black and long and shiny and smell like embalming fluid. I can't wait to rake them down somebody's back. heh heh.. crisis resolved.
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