...
If I couldn't have hair this red, I would like to be the Iceland lady, or an Iceland lady with hair this red. I might die of my longing for the redwoods, but I would die in a geothermally-heated tub where I might have reached the stage of enlightenment where one can be anywhere, anytime in infinity and eternity one likes.
I just got done with my second draft of my "sob story" to give to someone who might actually represent me in my current state of staring into the gutter, so thoughts like this, while being the cause of suffering, are also pretty much of a relief anyway, for just this fleeting moment.
pipe up any time....
