My lovely hair pins

I look crazy today. Somedays I wake up with an irresistable compulsion to wear something most people would be confused by.

For example, last year I had this inexplicable fascination with leg warmers and wore them to work (I was on an internship with a big-city paper) with a little skirt. Faunty and the Photographer tried to persuade me not to leave the house like that, but that only confirmed to me the genius behind the outfit.

Back to today: I'm dressed like a haunted widow whose husband died in a tragic accident at sea. I'm wearing a long crinkly billowy off-white skirt and a cream shirt with thin gold sandals.

I feel like I should be standing on a dock staring out at sea on a stormy day with sea foam swirling around my ankles.

I feel like I'm becoming the old woman Margaret Laurence wrote about who was sitting in a cave near the beach putting beetles into her hair, believing the bugs were beautiful tortoise-shell hair pins.

I'm getting tired of being alone in my new town. I only hang out with myself here and I'm afraid I'm going to get lost forever in a space deep inside my imagination.

* I just remembered the book was called A Jest of God.
**I changed into normal clothes on my lunch break. I feel repressed here.