Jul 9, 2007

Dear Woman On The Train:

Is the press of people is making you feel, psychically speaking, as though your hair is being flattened? It is indeed quite crowded, so much so that I am pressed between you and Asian Gentleman, and Old Woman Who Almost Made Me Miss The Train. Given these conditions, do you think you could FOR THE LOVE OF GOD STOP TOSSING YOUR HAIR? The girlish hair flip is wasted in such close quarters. I am getting hair-flicked in the shoulder every ten seconds. I am not impressed.

Also? There is such a thing as Too Much Product. When the smell of your hair makes me dizzy, you have crossed the Too Much Product Line. When your hair looks wet with lard, you have crossed the Too Much Product Line. When my shirt is oily and smells like YOUR GODDAMN HAIR, you have crossed the Too Much Product Line.

Nauseously yours,

Cordelia


grrrrrrrrrrgrrrrrrrrrrgrrrrrrrrgrrrrrrrrrgrrrrrrrrrgrrrrrrrrgrrrrrrrrrgrrrrrrrrrr


Dear Standpipe,

FUCK YOU! Is there any earthly reason to have so many freaking pipes sticking up out of the ground? I have never in my life seen a single one of you in use! Are you there merely to trip up unsuspecting women who are just trying to walk up Broadway without getting ashed on by Eurotrash? If so, well done! Mission Accomplished!

With skinned knees on the day I wore practical shoes,

Cordelia

PS No one even knows what you are!


grrrrrrrrrrgrrrrrrrrrrgrrrrrrrrgrrrrrrrrrgrrrrrrrrrgrrrrrrrrgrrrrrrrrrgrrrrrrrrrr


Dear Mystery Stole 3,

You have caused me unnecessary aggravation, and I don’t even have the yarn yet.

You call for 1,200 yards of laceweight yarn, but then elsewhere you call for 780 yards of laceweight yarn. That’s a lot of unused yardage. You were supposed to be my Zen-like escape from working on Butterfly.* I needed this time to recover. But what do you do? YOU GO AND HAVE NO PATTERN ONLY CHARTS.* I do not like charts. I do not like them on a plane, I do not like them on a train that has stinky-haired women on it.

Two clues behind already,

Cordelia

*Perhaps more accurately: from fucking up Butterfly. Never knit lace from a chart using mohair while suffering from a migraine. Is a good way to fill up your wastebasket with unfroggable yarn.

*Nobody go and tell me I should have figured this out before signing up because HELLO? SECRET INFORMATION NOT AVAILABLE TO THOSE WHO DIDN’T SIGN UP. And also nobody go and tell me I could just not knit it because I SIGNED UP ALREADY AND THE SIGNUP SHEET OR INTERNET PAGE OR WHAT HAVE YOU IS THE WORD OF GOD.

3 comments:

Anonymous said...

Wow...sounds like the 95 degree heat is making you cranky. I think I'm glad you are going out with girlfriends tonight...

(Not that those things don't sound genuinely aggravating...)

And yet, you're as funny as ever.

love,
Guy

Ruth said...

Maybe the lady on the train had lice? She was tossing her hair because she was itchy and couldn't scratch.



Sorry, not helping, I know!

Cordelia said...

Dude. LIKE I WASN'T GROSSED OUT ALREADY.