Gotta Let My Hair Down…

Whew.  After all that good work yesterday, I need to just relax and get random.  I think it will help me refresh and get back on my feet.  I am not linking or going anywhere.  I am just kicking back with my wadded up tissues and an unsweet iced tea and shooting off my trivial and unrelated thoughts in no particular order.

I wonder if caffeine loses its buzz if the tea is a day or two old?  I was really sleepy yesterday and drank some tea in the afternoon.  I still wanted a nap.  Not very scientific.  I don’t care enough to research it.

Tried a new recipe for Carne Asada last night.  The angels sang.

That picture on yesterday’s post?  Why yes. Yes, I am standing on the roof of my house.

I wish there was a place you could go to relax and write and sleep and sit in silence for free.  That wasn’t the park or the library.

The libraries in my town offer a semi-rumped collection and are where the homeless go to get in out of the weather.

My city is known nationwide as being an exceptional place to be homeless.  Homeless “Ministries” in other cities will put homeless persons on the bus and send them here.  Not. Making. This. Up.

Small fry is afraid of the washer and dryer.  I have been trying to encourage him that they aren’t that bad and I got to listening and they are darned loud.  Now I am afraid of them.

Has anyone else noticed that Angelina is no longer the ‘main thing’ on the supermarket check-out magazine?  I hope it is not too soon to hope her 45 min (or I thought we just got 15, but maybe it just SEEMS longer ’cause I’m tired of her) is about up.  Anyone ever notice she was just someone you’d heard of until she slept with another gal’s husband?   Here Angie.  If he will cheat with you, he will cheat on you.

(Brad?  If you are afraid to leave her cause she will cut you…watch the movie Sleeping with the Enemy then contact me here at the blog and one of my followers will help you form a plan.)

Jen? It looks like things are fine with you.  No matter what the magazines say, I think your hair is more manageable since you washed that man out of it and you can afford to fulfill your own every whim, up to and including the best therapy money can buy…  Keep going to the beach in the daytime and clubbing at night.  And unplugging your cell phone charger for the environment.

Can anyone explain:
     Why I’m so scared of our ice cream truck?  Is it that the guy in the passenger seat looks like he has just been beaten up?  Is it the creepy music?  Or the pause every few bars in which a woman’s voice shouts,”HELLO?”  Is it because a popsicle costs $4 or because I think if you are out of oregano, he can sell you that, too? 
     Why isn’t there a whole restaurant devoted to cold cereal?
     To my son that it is not a handle?
     To my daughters that little boys don’t know it isn’t a hand rest?
      the weak economy to whomever produced the fashion segment on the morning show featuring a $400 handbag.  They called this budget friendly.  They didn’t refer to investments.
     the concept of delayed gratification to an 8th grader.

I am going to take some ibuprofen.  Maybe someone ought to call later this afternoon in case I am having a neurological event.



Comments

  1. We can definitely help Brad hide a body. We could be his new BFF's.

  2. See, that is just the kind of supportive community we are building here.

  3. Ugh. If I never see another magazine with Angie on the cover, I'll be a happy girl. And I kind of think he made that bed, and he can lie in it. They deserve each other…

  4. I am so over her too.

I love it when you sass me. Please leave a comment.

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