who says white boys can't corn-row?

tonight grims learned to cornrow- in trini we actually call it cane-row, as in sugarcane, but i didn't feel like trying to fit all that explanation in the title- and did my hair up so i can have curly locks tomorrow. who say white boys don't know dreadlocks?!
so we weren't exactly snowed in but we got about 4-5", was enough to justify staying in. a satisfying day on the couch, a clean house, freshly washed, twisted and canerowed hair- naturally, he did the shovelling. i wouldn't touch the stuff with a 100-foot-shovel. i know there's people who like it but i think it's cold and nasty, only appreciable when i'm warmly inside.
the christmas tree's gone now, but there was already valentine's crap in the grocery 2 weeks ago. it's ridiculous, and besides, carnival's so much better.
sadly, we will not be there...nor will we be in sweet trini for the world cup qualifier (trini/usa) on ash wednesday. lameness abounds.
equally lame, ultrabang associates seem to have gone the way of the would-be-soul-buyers. no sign of anybody looking for a klutz-for-hire or soul-for-sale. after starting the year with great excitement at the idea of finally making $ for qualities i naturally possess, my financial prospects now look sad.
will no-one give the requisite 30 pieces of silver for my soul or offer cash for my banged shins?
what is the world coming to? or specifically america, since this has long been the place where you can literally sell anything (even more so with the internet). i mean in america, you can sell your used panties and toothbrushes for hundreds of dollars. you can sell your child (you can do that in a lot of places but america's serious about bringing in the business- black babies go for discounted rates- they only call it an adoption processing fee, it's really selling your child since white babies go for up to $5,000 more than black babies from the same agency- clearly not a processing fee) but now i've gone off on a less-than-fun tangent and am thinking dark thoughts. maybe i should call it a night (or a morning, since the sun will arrive soon and try weakly to melt the snow, forgetting that this is the country of fake winter sun- mediocre light, no heat)...yeah, i'm obviously feeling lame...

well i just remembered my gorgeous grims-styled hair, and it's making me smile again. all is not lost. i don't have to leave sour.

"...i just now remembered
how your hand fits the curve of my waist
and your smile
fits the curve of my mind..."

i didn't write that, but i wish i did.
somebody was telling me (this is the abbreviated conversation) that keeping a blog is indicative of a large ego because you have to believe other people want to read your shit, and it reminded me of a note i made to myself months ago, so i had to go back through my notebook and find it. i think it's a good thing for me to recall every so often:
(some maybe more secretly than others) all published, performed or aspiring writers must think themselves smart, funny, prophetic, or some combination of the 3- how else could you have the courage to let somebody else skim your soul? and if it's not your soul, then why write it?

when i rethink that it brings my situation into perspective. i'm just some chick who thinks she should be listened to. it's not a unique condition. but if i'm lucky, others may agree...
walk good.