I live on the eighteenth floor of a condo, and the wind and rain is whipping around so fast, I swear I can feel my building do the 5 degree lean. All the doors and windows in my house are shaking so bad. Last year around this time, and in similar conditions, there was a small tornado just to the north of me. This could turn out to be some scurry shit. 

Not only did I find a lovely new hairdresser, but she charged about a third of the price I usually pay and did an absolutely lovely job. 

I feel the need to throw this in here just so I can toot my own horn, but she said she rarely sees hair as healthy as mine, and that I could be a hair model. This is probably one of the best compliments I could ever receive because I am obsessed with keeping my hair healthy. Most of the time I think it’s shot to shit because my hair is curly, and I often confuse curly hair frizz with having damaged hair. If I can make it my whole life without dying my hair, I’d be a happy camper. 

Same goes for my nails. I’ve never had fake nails and now they’re really strong. 

I never thought I’d say this, but I’m happy my mom was a hard ass when it came to reinforcing my natural appearance. She pretty much taught me that I don’t have to change myself to be beautiful. 

Anyways…I suppose I should stop bragging about all my awesome physical traits. I don’t want the common folk to start hurling themselves off of overpasses because they feel like they can’t measure up to my greatness.