I walked around downtown Louisville today. Much like Nashville, I drive through Louisville all the time, but I’ve never really been there. Well, there was that one time I spent five hours in the lobby of a hotel because my car decided to overheat on I-65, but other than that, I’ll stop to eat, and that is the extent of my knowledge of Louisville. It’s a beautiful city, though; I have a tendency to fall in love with most places I’ve visited — not really Atlanta … sorry — but Louisville is seriously fabulous. Maybe I’m just drawn to cities on rivers.
While walking around, I got hit on a few times. That was after visiting an all boys high school this morning where I definitely got hit on en masse. (“Are all the girls there as pretty as you?” and “Is this your phone number?” are only two of the questions I got from a group of junior boys.) It was the most interesting visit I’ve had to date, that’s for certain. I will say this much, though: My hair has been remarkably well-behaved as of late, and that’s saying something. My hair usually does exactly what it’s supposed to do, which is be straight and look presentable. It’s almost as if God said, “Yea, though ye shall struggle with thy body image and the feeling that you will die alone for the past eight years, ye shall have really good hair.”
On second thought, I really hope that’s not what He said. Good hair hardly makes up for eight years of “Does this make me look fat?” and “Why am I single?”
