Posted in Moxie


I am an arteest.

I never claimed to be a good one.

However, somewhere in my soul is an elf who thinks itself talented and at times demands an outlet.  When the talent-elf is not given voice, it causes havoc deep in the recesses of my being.  Manifestations may include, but are not limited to irritability, confusion, forgetfulness, and delusion.  And forgetting to eat breakfast.

Sometimes, my elf likes to cut hair.  Usually, the hair being referred to belongs to a homeschooler: one who homeschools or one who is homeschooled.  I admire these people.  Maybe even like them.  Because I can understand and relate to them.  And because they lend their most obvious feature to be experimented on by my inner hermit-elf.  Never mind the fact that it will always grow back and that they can have the damage fashioned into something trendy & edgy at a nearby Hair Cuttery if I bestow irreparable wreckage upon their locks.

It bolsters my pride and that of my inner elf to have them return time and again.  Suckers for punishment, I guess.

I’m insecure.  There.  I said it.

But my elf is not.  Great pride is taken in the work of elfish hands and my elf is no exception.

Mondays thru Wednesdays, early afternoon.  Thursday and Friday after 2.  Please make your appointment 3 weeks in advance.  Thank you for your business.

Stupid elf!  Stop advertising, I mean harassing those poor people.



I rock. I also paper and scissors.

Come on. Let it out. You know you want to.

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