Ah, finally – now that I have my blog back, I can bring up this extremely important issue that has been festering. There are scrunchies multiplying in my car like rabbits. Inanimate, unfashionable, decorative rabbits. First it was just one scrunchie – this godawful turquoise velour thing. Then its brother (or sister), an olive green thermal fabric of sorts. And now there’s Baby Plaid. I swear to you, I have not owned a scrunchie since sixth grade (okay, *maybe* seventh – I kinda missed the cool train) – but by now, I literally do not know anyone foolish enough to actually wear a scrunchie. Well, my dear wonderful slouch-sock-wearing mommy (hi) might, but her hair’s too short. So WHERE ARE THEY COMING FROM?
My first theory is that they were leftovers from the two Margarita Nights – but I mostly drove boys around so that theory doesn’t really hold, or the boys are holding something back.
Anyway, if you miss your scrunchie(s) and want it/them back, fess up and they’re yours. They are DEFINITELY going on the list of Fashion Rules as a no-no, that’s for sure!
I have a habit of finding CDs. Like CDs of random spread sheet, Music, Uh…Porn, And other assorted stuff around my locker at school. I don’t know what’s going on next to my locker, but it can’t be good.
Hah… I think I’d rather have CDs and porn than scrunchies. Well, I guess it depends what kind… maybe you could start posting requests? You know, “Please could you leave the new Coldplay CD next” or whatever strikes your fancy.
I refuse to call them “scrunchies” and prefer the term “ruffle wrap.” Who missed the cool train now?