I think I've been pretty subtle about this, but Ned has been gone all week and I was vaguely aware that he was gone.
YAY! NED IS BACK!!!
Here's a picture he sent me from the Natural History museum. Ned loves him some natural history. Nothing about my history is natural. Make no bones about it. God, I'm hilarious.
Anyway, yesterday morning I got up and schlepped downtown to get my roots done, which were 50 feet long and they are still kind of see-able and so now I have to call my poor pregnant hairdresser, who looks like a pretty Maria Shriver, to tell her we need a re-do.
Here's a photo I took yesterday afternoon for the sole purpose of complaining about my roots today, because sometimes I start writing my blog in my head as I live my life, and I'm not sure that's 100% great, but there it is. Anyway, it turned out I liked this shot, because I look like the kind of schoolmarm who's gonna rip off your clothes and throw you on the desk despite the terrible sex-on-the-desk story Faithful Reader Tee told us in the comments the other day. If you don't read the comments, suffice it to say you should keep your man parts far away from desk drawers.
Ow. And I'm not being James Brown right now.
Anyway, see? My roots? Just a little? Well, I do. And pregnant Maria Shriver hairdresser is gonna be irked. Also, I am certain my pregnant Maria Shriver hairdresser has no clue who Maria Shriver is, as it turns out PMSH has a mom my age.
Nothing makes me happier than Price is Right losing horn. It's six seconds of perfection.
After my hair, I was already downtown, so I thought maybe I'd shop a little, perhaps pop in, just POP IN, to the midcentury modern furniture store, not that I was going to look at hot midentury modern furniture guy or anything. But first I stopped in and got some teriyaki chicken that turned out to be not even good.
I decided to get new dog beds, because knock wood, Iris has allegedly stopped peeing on everything all over yonder, so we'll see if these remain pee-free. My mother told me you can sometimes get dog beds for $5 at TJMaxx, and it turned out yesterday was not one of those days, but I did get them for $14.99 apiece.
After my not-at-all depressing time at TJMaxx (does anyone else find that place depressing?), I saw a nail place in the same strip, and since I sprained my ankle in November I've not had a pedicure. I STILL can't have one, as I cannot contort my ankle enough for one, but I DID get a mani. I was livin' large yesterday.
There was this cute old woman in there, in a Christmas sweatshirt with a collar attached to it. "I really have a problem with my toenails," she said, sliding on her coat. "They just get so long. I've tried pertnear everything."
After she left, all the nail ladies starting yammering in Vietnamese (is Vietnamese a language?), and I knew they were talking about her. How could you not? "Yeah, I just can't seem to figure out this nails-growing thing. How can I address this issue? Hmph. Stumped."
Anyway, that would have been entertainment enough for one day, but then I had Dick Whitman's party.
It was fun, and I met friends of DW I had never met before whom I loved, and it was one of those nights where you talk and laugh and all of a sudden it's 11:00 and you're all, How is it so LATE already?
I brought my substitute boyfriend Naughty Professor, and he was the life of the party. We all told stories about how religion influenced us growing up, and seeing as everyone there was a Southerner they had serious stories. Naughty Pro talked about how when he was a kid he went out to the yard and couldn't find his sister or mom anywhere. He panicked.
"Oh, no!" he thought. "The Rapture happened, and my mom and sister are gone and I got left here!"
I can assure you that thought never once crossed my mind during my hippie childhood.
But then I got the text, "I'm back in town," and I dumped Naughty Pro like God during the Rapture, and screamed over to Ned's and no photos were taken because I was too busy being happy.
Ned is back. Yay.
Talk at ya, cocksucker.
Oh, and P.S. Here's what we had for dessert. I know, dude. My life is perfect.