I'm told to be a writer you need to write. This makes sense, yet sometimes it's difficult. Actually, it's difficult most of the time. "Write about anything and everything. Write about your hair follicles." Here goes, Pappie.
Hair follicles-
By definition these are "small cavities in the epidermis and corium of the skin, from which a hair develops." Thank you dictionary.com. An epidermis is "the outer, nonvascular, nonsensitive layer of theskin, covering the true skin or corium." Thanks again, dictionary.com. I'm guessing by this definition that the 'corium' is the true skin. I think this means that our hair comes from these little holes in our skin called follicles. And the top of the follicle is nonsensitive. Hmm. So how does a hair transplant work? I have no idea, and sorry, but I'm not too interested in that topic either. 

This blog's name is teen perspective, so I suppose I should write about something I have a unique perspective on as a teen. Okay, well... umm. College. That's what everyone is talking about these days at school. I just had a meeting with my counselor about it actually. You know what I'm talking about. The counselor's office. Ugh. Don't get me wrong, I actually like school and I like making plans and figuring my schtuff out. But just that feeling you get when you cautiously walk into that small room for some one-on-one time. After the first ten minutes you find yourself itching to turn around and look at the clock behind you, but you realize that that would be extremely rude. You resign yourself to nodding every so often. And saying, "uuhmm..." like you're really interested. You tell yourself, "Hey, idiot, this meeting is about your future. You need to actually be mentally present for this. What is that? Is that spinach in his teeth? Groty. Oh, crap I think I just saw a spider crawling over there. And up go the legs. Smile. "Uhhumm". I wonder how long I can hold my feet off the ground. Strong, manly abs. Yess. Ok I give up. Wow, was that five seconds? I need to start working out again. I don't think my Sunday afternoon Pilates class is helping. Maybe I should quit that and join Xtreme Yoga with that hot teacher next door. How old is he anyways? Hmmm... sigh. Alrighty, so four year program. Eh, nope. Two year program? That's more like it. Maybe I can get that done in a year and a half... a year? My Calc grade is an F?! That's not possible. Maybe I should cut down on my daydreaming in that class. What class can I afford to daydream in? Oh, Science has an A. That's a definite possibility. But that's always such a hard class to daydream in. I mean, wafting sulfur towards my nose, that weird kid that keeps trying to light his boogers on fire, and that teacher that always has the sweat stains. So many disgusting stimulants I can't handle trying to daydream. BRIGHT LIGHTS! Agh. Light. Light. Light. Beep. Beep. Beep. Really, a fire drill? Now? I was just in the middle of listening to how smart I am. Eh, I'm brilliant actually. Amazing student, hardworking individual. I'm golden. Who needs these meetings anyways? Probably that stupid kid that burns his boogers. Boogies hehe. That's a funny word. Boogies. I think I need to blow my nose. Yawn, sleepy. Almost done. Yup, I'm done. Off to Calc, the daydreaming class. I love my life." 

And there you have it, the college plans of most high-schoolers. Good luck with that fifteen years from now. :)