Hair Club for Women

I know a lot of you are curious about my hair growth, so here are some rather bad photos. When it's sans product (these are with product), it's a total Jewfro. Unless you're Seth Rogen, Jonah Hill or Fletch, the Jewfro is pretty disastrous. But it's fine. Fine. I don't know how many inches it is, since it's curly and hard to tell.




One of the many Carnival ships leaving yesterday.



And today. It's been raining all weekend. Last night Durrett and I got pounded on Lincoln Road and I was ankle deep in the disgusting, overflowing water. In flipflops. You can imagine what this germaphobe did in response to this turn of events.

"Oh my God. Omigod. Omigod. Ewwwwwwww!" It was insane—more than a foot of water accumulated in the two-hour period we'd been in the movies (How to Lose Friends and Alienate People. It's no Devil Wears Prada.) I've now had to wash my feet in the sink twice this week.