That Ain't No Milk Mustache from NYU

This morning I decided to trim my ‘stache and sideburns before I went out in public. I snipped away with my awesome stainless steel Little Twin Star scissors that I got for my birthday when I was in the 4th grade (these are really great scissors) helter skelter. Unfortunately, when I went to the bathroom at work this afternoon, I saw that I cut an uneven patch away. I’m not sure that it is too noticeable, as no one has said anything to me thus far. (Although, really, what are my co-workers going to say, “Hey Suzanne, what’s up with your random side bald patches?” I don’t think so.) I’m curious if I will look presentable at the fancy schmancy NYU alumni leaders event that Husband is bringing me to tonight at some rich person’s apartment on the Upper East. I’ve never gone with him in the past because I loathe NYU for taking the one closet in the room that I shared with two other women and boarding it up in March 1997 so that they could install fiber optics in it over the summer. Over the summer, people! What the fuck you got to take our fucking closet for 3 months in advance! They are such fucking assholes. My parents are hardworking people who scrimped and saved to send me to that fucking school and have me live in a basic room, which includes a closet, while I studied. Until NYU repays my parents for a fair share of the money they spent to get me a dorm room with a closet for a full semester, I will be their sworn enemy.