How can it be that we've run through another week? That yet another day is over.. It seems like just this morning I was watching CNN unveil a new concept car by Volvo (designed all by women.. there's even a split in the headrest for pony tails and an extendable rest under the gas for high heels) and now I'm trying to organize dinner for one and keep track of where I've hidden the Christmas presents!
Insanity. How can a girl keep up this pace? I better start saving soon for the Botox. Or rage reduction lessons. I swear, the traffic has been so bad, the holiday happys are all out and they're all wearing blinders. Big blinders. That miss a small angry women in oversized sunglasses with fabulous hair reaming them out with positively fantastic hand gestures. Like I said. Big blinders.
Other than that.. most of the holiday shoppers have been relatively friendly. A little strange.. One lovely woman insist that I help her decide which jacket to buy her rather.. homely.. (please god, let me birth attractive children. Let this karma not come back on me in the form of moles or cleft palattes. ).. baby girl. The purple or the pink. Now, I'm sure Old Navy doesn't attract too many nutty baby thieves, but this woman went running off (ok..waddling. Damn my honesty.) to grab another jacket for comparison.. with me and her elaborate stroller and unfortunate baby just feet from the door. Certainly, if I were to steal a child (and in those shoes and my tragically stunning hairdo, it was not even plausible) I would pick an attractive one.. But still. Her purse WAS in the stroller. In the end, I said the purple jacket. The baby was dressed in purple anyways and it wasn't too much the worse for it.. so stick with what you know. Or at least, what doesn't emphazize the copious ammounts of crusty baby snot.
I'm still enjoying my time off - had a lunchtime yoga class with Ms. "I rehearsed this relaxation verse from a book" who sounds like she should have the light sound of a flute telling you to turn the page after every instruction set. Ah well. Better than Mr. Militia. It was a nice, restorative class. Very small, only an hour long, it was a perfect interlude.
It's strange. I always assume somebody is reading this - when you examine other blogs, it appears that others do as well. We like to think that somebody, somewhere, has stumbled onto our blogs, maybe looks it up in the morning to read with their coffee, check and see what we're doing. Given, we know a few people read it, our loved ones, our stalkers, our friends and family; but you also know that that's not who we're writing to. We count on the faceless masses, the hoi polloi (not to imply any of you are unwashed) that somebody, somewhere, that we don't know, takes interest. I think we write to them. The somebody who might read it, might laugh. That's who I write to at least. The people who might laugh at the absurdities, the stories, enjoy the ideas.. I hope you do. Whomever is reading this.
To all of you.. Goodnight!
Insanity. How can a girl keep up this pace? I better start saving soon for the Botox. Or rage reduction lessons. I swear, the traffic has been so bad, the holiday happys are all out and they're all wearing blinders. Big blinders. That miss a small angry women in oversized sunglasses with fabulous hair reaming them out with positively fantastic hand gestures. Like I said. Big blinders.
Other than that.. most of the holiday shoppers have been relatively friendly. A little strange.. One lovely woman insist that I help her decide which jacket to buy her rather.. homely.. (please god, let me birth attractive children. Let this karma not come back on me in the form of moles or cleft palattes. ).. baby girl. The purple or the pink. Now, I'm sure Old Navy doesn't attract too many nutty baby thieves, but this woman went running off (ok..waddling. Damn my honesty.) to grab another jacket for comparison.. with me and her elaborate stroller and unfortunate baby just feet from the door. Certainly, if I were to steal a child (and in those shoes and my tragically stunning hairdo, it was not even plausible) I would pick an attractive one.. But still. Her purse WAS in the stroller. In the end, I said the purple jacket. The baby was dressed in purple anyways and it wasn't too much the worse for it.. so stick with what you know. Or at least, what doesn't emphazize the copious ammounts of crusty baby snot.
I'm still enjoying my time off - had a lunchtime yoga class with Ms. "I rehearsed this relaxation verse from a book" who sounds like she should have the light sound of a flute telling you to turn the page after every instruction set. Ah well. Better than Mr. Militia. It was a nice, restorative class. Very small, only an hour long, it was a perfect interlude.
It's strange. I always assume somebody is reading this - when you examine other blogs, it appears that others do as well. We like to think that somebody, somewhere, has stumbled onto our blogs, maybe looks it up in the morning to read with their coffee, check and see what we're doing. Given, we know a few people read it, our loved ones, our stalkers, our friends and family; but you also know that that's not who we're writing to. We count on the faceless masses, the hoi polloi (not to imply any of you are unwashed) that somebody, somewhere, that we don't know, takes interest. I think we write to them. The somebody who might read it, might laugh. That's who I write to at least. The people who might laugh at the absurdities, the stories, enjoy the ideas.. I hope you do. Whomever is reading this.
To all of you.. Goodnight!
1 comment:
your last paragraph was wonderful. thank you for your warm welcome. regards: lowly member of faceless masses
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