Styleville

I lived in an apartment in a township just outside of NYC, called “Styleville”. It was green and pretty and supposed to be replica of Pennsylvania Dutch Country.

At some point I was riding a bicycle into New York, and my hair was bothering me. I went to smooth it out and I pulled a giant fistful of hair off my head. When I looked closely at the hair I saw that it was melted where it had broken off, and I concluded that I must have burned it with a curling iron.

I looked at my reflection in the window of a nearby lollipop/music store. My hair looked really frizzy and ugly and I was frustrated. I went into the store and was eating a lollipop. A black drag queen came out and told me I looked great, and when I looked in the mirror, I was wearing a bright blue Carol Channing wig.

Christopher showed up to show me this tiny, new, white poodle he had just rescued. It had a biting problem, and a trainer was meeting with us to help correct the problem. The trainer seemed to think the problem was really serious, but I thought he was overreacting.