I cut my hair. 10-inches gone. I can’t stop crying. Not just because I look a little too much like Judith Miller, but because I had this stupid fantasy about my hair. You see I did not want to cut my hair until after I got married. I know it is stupid, but I can’t help it. Cutting my hair is me acknowledging the chances of me ever getting married are very small indeed. I am a spinster. I have reached the point where I have given up all my girlish dreams of love. Who needs love when there is Truck and Jack Daniels?