Ally McReal

Thursday, June 27, 2013

I’ve recently started to watch Ally McBeal for the first time. I’m a few episodes into season 1.

Don’t start watching Ally McBeal if you’re the type of woman who vomits words when she’s nervous, spews verbal volcanoes when she feels slighted, or has recently found out she has been parting her hair on the wrong side.

Years of twisting and teasing and manipulating cow licks and ill-behaving hair all because I’ve been too stubborn to part my pelt on the right side. To blow dry it the right way. Yesterday I had a new girl do my hair and changed my whole life. Like I've been lying to myself.

I can’t tell you the deeper feelings that hide behind the words “I’ve recently found out I’ve been parting my hair on the wrong side.”

I’d like to pound my fist on the table and complain about Ally McBeal because she moans about not having a boyfriend, and she believes in love, and is a generally weak person, but all I can think about is how it should be called Ally McReal because if you don’t hide in the bathroom at work, you’re… probably a functioning human being and I don’t know how you do it.