Puzzled, I looked down at my gut and shook my head. But hey, I thought, maybe I am loosing weight, though I'm not doing much on my part to do so.

"Really?" she asked incredulously, and that made me pep up a bit, because who doesn't like it when people tell them they're slimming down? So I smiled at her and said, "No."

I was about to humbly add that my fat ass weighs in at the same 224 that it's been for the past few years, when she cocked her head to the side and said, "Are you sure? I could've sworn it was pink."

And that's when it hit me. She was talking about my hair!

Gawd, how embarrassing! Of course, I dyed my hair for Halloween. Now it's Raggedy-Ann red again (stupid fuckin' bottle said it was some shade of orange), like I had it for the Static-X concert. She wasn't asking me if I dieted. She was asking, "Did you dye it?" She couldn't understand why I started laughing, and I didn't tell her, because I didn't want to make her feel obligated to compliment me or feel awkward.