I am in dire need of a hair cut. My shortest layer is almost touching my shoulders. If I comb my hair straight, it probably is touching my shoulders by now. And the longest is far beyond my shoulders. This is the longest my hair has been in several years. It is driving me absolutely batty. I just can’t seem to get my ass out the door to get it cut. There is a Fantastic Sams within walking distance from my house* and I can’t get there to get my hair cut. Because I can’t get anything done ever. I also need a perm. But I need a hair cut before I can get a perm. So that’ll be forever and a year before I get that done too.
Sunday I hauled it out to Montgomery for Peggy’s baby shower. (I went to Mom & Dad’s first and rode out with Mom, Mary, Aimless, and My Ellie.) I’m still trying to wrap my brain around the fact that any day now Pegz is going to be having a baby. My partner in crime from the time we were born is HAVING A BABY. Sure I have friends who have kids—and that’s still bizarre to me—but it’s Peggy. We’re not old enough to have babies are we? Shut-up we are totally not in our thirties. Regardless, I’m thrilled for Peggy and Greg and I can’t wait to meet the Little Girl when she gets here.
Spending all that time in the car with my sister did, in fact, make me want to punch her in the throat. But I refrained, because I would have had to crawl over Ellie to get to her and that would set a poor example for my favorite niece. I just bit my tongue and stared out at the snow-covered farm country.
Got an invitation to my cousin CJ’s wedding. Who gets married in FEBRUARY in MINNESOTA? Crazy people. That’s who. It’s another wedding way out in small-town, Bumfuck, Egypt. Because all of my extended family lives out in the middle of nowhere. I’ve also never met his bride-to-be. Then again, pretty much nobody in the CamFam has as the Family Feud has kept that section of the family from seeing the rest of us for several years now. But I am compelled to attend this wedding as a sign of goodwill because it’s not MY feud. I’ll even wear a dress. In FEBRUARY. The only dresses I own are sleeveless, so I’ll have to add a sweater and *shudder* pantyhose. And I’ll have to try to find some different shoes because my only dress shoes are sandal-like. But the odds of finding non-FUGLY shoes are pretty slim. So we’ll see on that one. I already bought a new black bra. Because the last one I wore, the underwire poked me in the armpit all day and left a mark for two weeks. I spent a little more money on it this time.
Speaking of which—I’m pretty sure Hell is just one continuous bra shopping trip. And the selection is nothing but underwire bras. Underwires are of the Devil. I refuse to buy everyday bras with underwires because they just poke me in the armpit all day. Underwires were not meant for big boobs.
I had a dream recently wherein Gerard Butler was sitting in my parents’ kitchen and my mom was regaling him with all the details of the fanfiction I’ve been writing about him.** I was completely mortified and he was just sitting there staring at her like she was completely off her rocker.
I’m thinking I should probably lay off the sauce before bedtime. Any by “sauce” I mean, drinking ranch dressing straight from the bottle.***
When Bob ordered stuff from Think Geek, he got these SleepPhones for me. He saw them and instantly thought they would be perfect for me. They are “pajamas for your ears.” Or headphones for wearing in bed. It’s a fleece headband with headphones that don’t dig into your head when you lay on them. They are awesome. I like to listen to music to fall asleep to, but it disturbs Bob. So I settle for the fan as white noise. Listening to music helps distract my brain—because I can never TURN IT OFF—and it lets me fall asleep in roughly an hour instead of two or three. It also falls into the category of secondary fidgeting. And since all the ADHD meds have failed hardcore—I might as well use SOMETHING I know actually works for me.
On New Year’s Eve, while making dinner, I sliced into the tip of my finger taking the label off a soup can with a knife. Because I’m brilliant like that. It wasn’t anything major, but it bled and left a nice flap of loose skin that I had to trim off later to keep it from catching on everything. (Or rather Bob trimmed it off because I’m too big of a wuss. But that’s what husbands are for.) It’s been twelve days now. The cut has almost completely healed. The skin is just a little rough in that spot, leaving an outline of where the cut was. But my finger is still sore when I use it too much. Do you know how much you touch with the tip of your middle finger? EVERYTHING, apparently.
I opened up WordPress to allow search engines to find my blog. So I checked Google Analytics to see what kind of search terms were bringing people here. I laughed, but I’m sure they’ve all been sorely disappointed.
– alistair propositioning you
– caboose singing
– hey chicka bump bump
Then there’s the bwuh?
– the laundry life for life list
– “that’s a lot of dung”
– my bullets swish for life
Though this one is probably my favorite…
– living with passive aggressive who won’t let me decorate or make decisions
Because don’t we ALL have this problem?
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*Of course, it’s January and Minnesota and there’s not a snowball’s chance in Hell I’m walking there. But that’s beside the point.
**While I will admit to writing the occasional fanfiction, I have not actually written any about Gerard Butler. You’re not surprised that I write fanfiction are you? I’m a total headcase and completely obsessive about everything. I mean REALLY.
***I don’t actually drink ranch dressing straight from the bottle. I use a spoon.
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