Bite me, Supercuts
The Top Ten Reasons Why I Am The Obvious Salon Choice:
10) My haircuts are free.
9) I tell you how cute you are while I’m trimming.
8) I’ll warn you to close your eyes so I can blow on your face to get the little pieces of hair off.
7) And sneak a kiss then, too.
6) You don’t have to wear shoes.
5) Or pants.
4) If you get thirsty during the cut, I’ll squirt you in the mouth with the spray bottle as many times as you want.
3) Sometimes I pretend the clippers are attacking me.
2) There is almost always candy afterwards.
And the number 1 reason…
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Bid early, bid often!
Have I mentioned lately how super-swell I think Joshilyn is? No? Well, she totally is.
She’s the sort of person who will totally let you overstay your welcome in her house, eat all of her food, wreck her plans, and blow zerberts on her children.
She’s the sort of person who will rescue fluffy kittens from trees and pet them (and you) when they (or you) are down but also make you snort your smoked salmon salad with a well-placed witty observation.
She’s the sort of person who will join in plugging a worthy cause and also auction both her work and her time just to help out a friend in need.
Read the whole story, then go bid. If Joshilyn’s auction doesn’t float your boat, you’re on CRACK; but there’s pages of folks to choose from, so you’re bound to see something you need. Plus, how often does anyone actually get the chance to rescue a kitten? Not very often. Do this, instead. You don’t even have to get out of your chair, and you could end up with something very cool in addition to the warm, fuzzy feeling you’ll get from Doing A Good Thing.
It’s all Ashton’s fault
I know that on Friday night I grandly promised that I would be back the next day with pictures and more tales and perhaps a pony and a decorative vial of crack for each and every one of you (who even KNOWS what I promised; I was just the smallest, wee bit tipsy), but it turns out that I lied.
But as we know that I am always blaming others, I have chosen to blame this on Mr. Kutcher. Do not even attempt to talk me out of it; it’s all his fault and you cannot convince me otherwise. Exhibit A: We rented another Ashton film on Saturday night, hoping to have a repeat of ceaselessly mocking his emoting “skills” as it was such fun the first time. But DAMMIT, the movie we selected was actually pretty funny. Damn you, Ashton Kutcher! You are the reason that today’s kids are lazy!
Also, Atlanta is apparently located in a bizarre band of magnetic weirdness where batteries get a single wiff of the moist, verdant landscape and are immediately depleted of all energy. I brought two sets of batteries, took hardly any pictures, and all of the batteries died. Ashton’s evilness knows no bounds, I tell you. Hide your children. And batteries.
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Blunk drogging
Kira is here! I great big giant puffy pink heart her. So much. Really. And not just because I’ve had a fair amount of wine. I swear.
I am fairly certain that the energy created by the three of us all in one place has disrupted the earth’s orbit.
ANYWAY! Kira is talking to her boys in the phone, which has necessitated a break in our studious viewing of The Butterfly Effect. I ran upstairs and grabbed my computer and was only drunkenly confused by its refusal to start up on account of my dead battery and the cord being unplugged for about five minutes. I think.
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But instead of staff, we have fuses on strike
Dear Friends,
Today Joshilyn blew my cover, and pointed out that this trip is to be our own personal BlogHer event. That’s an interesting way of putting it, I think. This is JUST like BogHer, really, except fewer strange hats and a lot more people saying, “Hey, how are y’all doin’ today?”
I was sort of getting into the swing of the southern dialect–not speaking it, myself, but finally resisting the urge to say “HUH?” every time someone spoke to me–when we stopped for coffee this morning and the young man who greeted us at the counter sounded JUST LIKE ME. “YOU are NOT from GEORGIA!” I declared in triumph. He looked frightened, but admitted that he was from Massachusetts. “One of my kind!” I sighed happily. He made the other barista wait on me. I have no idea why.
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So far, no gorilla sightings
You know the saying about how “getting there is half the fun?” No. Not even close. Not even a quarter of the fun. Actually, just not fun at all, compared to being there. Not that there’s anything WRONG with getting there, just that it’s wasted time in comparison to the rest.
Mir’s Handy Travel Tips:
DO bring lots of reading material.
DON’T bring a book about the ebola virus if you are predisposed to anxiety.
DO transfer important items to your cool new purse.
DON’T forget to remove your girly leatherman tool which now belongs to the security dude at the airport.
DO catch the handy train that will take you from one end of Gigantic Airport to the other.
DON’T compulsively stare at the hugely fake boobs of the two women dressed like strippers, precariously balancing on their stiletto heels and lurching about every time the train speeds up or slows down.
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When in doubt, procrastinate!
Do you remember those commercials they used to run on TV every Summer–I don’t know who sponsored them, maybe the Humane Society?–that would start out with someone cracking an egg onto the sidewalk, and the deep male voiceover voice says, “It’s hot outside. Hot enough to fry an egg on the sidewalk. Hot enough to FRY A DOG’S BRAIN.” And then they cut to a shot of poor Fido, trapped in the backseat with the window just barely cracked, and they’d talk about how dangerous it is to leave your dog in the car on hot days.
I had a dream this morning where I thought I’d woken up and booted up my computer. And in this dream–where I was sure I was awake–I decided to check the weather for my vacation destination, which is indeed in a warm part of the country. So I went to Yahoo! Weather and entered the information and the 5-day forecast came up. You know how they give little graphics for the type of weather? Sunny, you get a sun. Partly cloudy, you get a sun with some clouds. Etc. Well, in my dream–which seemed perfectly logical and wherein I was certain I was awake–the forecast graphics were little groups of gorillas with red eyes.
Well, I didn’t know what that meant. So I went to the graphics key (in my dream) and it told me that gorillas with red eyes means “Hot enough to FRY A GORILLA’S BRAIN.” Wow, I thought. That’s really hot, I guess.
And then I woke up.
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So much time, so little to do
On the one hand, I’m leaving in a few days, and I have a lot to do before I go. On the other hand, with the kids gone, it does feel a little bit like I have an unlimited amount of time to do… whatever.
(Fortunately, I’m super-good at doing whatever. Especially when “whatever” means “not getting out of my pajamas all day on Sunday but eating ice cream for breakfast and watching a bunch of movies.”)
After my scintillating day, yesterday, I figured I’d better get back into the groove, today. Lots of things to do in the name of Trip Prep! Also it tends to keep the voices in my head to a dull roar.
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Ghost days
Some days unfold seamlessly–the hours slipping by, flowing from one moment into another and requiring no effort or vigilance. They just are, and in them, so are you.
Some days feel impossible and endless–the minutes dragging, the effort just to keep putting one foot in front of another feeling herculean. They feel like slow strangulation, every instant a choice between fighting for breath or succumbing.
Somewhere inbetween are the ghost days.
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88 spares
Another sign of the Apocalypse has come to pass, and you probably didn’t even know. Oh, sure; your life is busy. I understand. That’s why I’m here to fill you in.
You would know to take cover if it started raining frogs or the four horsemen came galloping by. But you might not know that the end of the world could also be heralded by tiny Batman undies. Yes.
So, be ye informed: That time has come, and that time is now. The Time Of Tiny Batman Undies… in BED. For SLEEPING. And staying DRY. Woooooooooooooo!
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