Pippi Startweezer, at your service.

Today my goddaughter Lillian is spending the day with my mother. Mormor and Milly called me this morning so that Milly could ask a very important question:

Would Auntie mrissa put her hair in puppytails today too?

(Note for the uninitiated: my mother doesn't like pigs. So when I was growing up, one tail was a ponytail--a side ponytail if it was on the side, because I was after all a child of the '80s--and two tails were puppytails.)

(I also wore my hair in Princess Leia buns on a fairly regular basis. I had a very happy childhood.)

Well. So. Is there anything I wouldn't do for this kid? Probably, but messing with my hair is so not over that line. So today I am wearing my giraffe pants and a camisole top. I attempted low puppytails, but in combination with the cami it made me feel like I was about to suggest to people that if they wanted to commence a sexual relationship with me they ought to pursue friendship first and that, in fact, what I really really wanted was a ziggah-ziggah-ahh. So as Geeky Spice is not a persona I ever intended to adopt, I braided each side. Then I looked in the mirror at the finished result.

Um. Will somebody please buy me an autoharp? Seriously. This is just alarming. I know I don't actually smell of patchouli, but I have to keep sniffing to make sure. And I have the sudden urge to macrame something.