I thought I would come out of hiding to share with you the two most awesomely wonderful gifts I received for my slamming into the wall of my late and decrepit 30's birthday celebration (wow! was a comma supposed to be added into that long-assed sentence?):
This would be over two weeks ago.
Okay, so this post has been in the que that long. That's the beautiful thing about being on a break. I don't care. I can post this crap when I want to (as well as end sentences with a preposition.)
On with Exhibit #1:
180360 sent this in honor of my most obsessive crush on "the Dave." SERIOUSLY! I have this primed and ready for the most perfect frame to grace my bedside table. Sorry sweet husband-'o-mine, you'll have to share the space. I'm sure you'll get over it. and I have a not-so secret crush on 180. She so knows me.
In addition to the sweet pic, she sent a very generous gift certificate to Amazon. Now, I am currently wasting away my time trying to figure out what music I'm going to choose and purchase because MAN! I haven't bought a new CD since the last Foo Fighter's CD. Who cares that was 5 months ago. Either I'm sadly lacking in the "know" department or I just don't like anything enough to purchase it.
So, what have you been listening to lately? I'm taking suggestions here. Only good ones, mind you.
Exhibit #2 from my birthday extravaganza:
This would be a t-shirt from the lovely sizzler based on an e-mail conversation we conducted a few weeks ago about my formative childhood years. To answer your burning questions (I know you have them), my early impressionable years WERE a little street, if not interesting. 'nuff said. Sizzle, you know me. LIKE, REALLY KNOW ME!!!
Well, I'm sure you are wondering, Gorillabuns, what have you been doing with all your "free time" since you haven't concentrated on plastering your useless crap on the Internet? Laundry? Home baked cookies? Teaching your oldest child her ABC's while volunteering at your nearest homeless shelter?
Hmm..... Not a damn thing. Actually, this could be construed as a lie. All I've really been doing as of late is obsessing about everyone in our household's hair. Like MAJORLY obsessing. Short of trying to procure a Flobee, of which I don't think they make anymore, I have been accosting strangers in Target to see if and what they use to NOT spend $25.00 on their three year-old's hair. One women said she used dog clippers on her son's hair. This both shocked and intrigued me in the pure inventive nature of her hairstyling skills of which, I have absolutely none. Skillz that is.
You see, Moira has NEVER had a haircut. This is partly due to the need to be a princess with long flowing hair with the flip side being, I'm cheap and a major lazy-ass. Thank god! I don't have a boy or he would be teased unmercifully for having a nelly hair do.
Nothing wrong with having a nelly-assed hair do, mind you.
But and so - in an effort to be a more attentive mother who cares about her child's appearance, I purchased a pair of cheap $7.00 trimming scissors and went to town on Moira's hair on Monday. I figured, if i screw up there is always Supercuts down the way.
Right?
Well, actually, I don't have a clue where the nearest Supercuts is located but I'm confident.
In my abilities.
While the few inches I trimmed aren't much to write home to my daddy's commune in Dallas (who happened to cut hair during non-paying Musician"s gigs in the '70's), I'm sure I could outfit a Barbie a new shining trendy cut from the refuges of Moira's hair. Meaning, appearances are deceiving and man, her hair looks so much better than the scraggly business she's been sporting as of late.
So, feeling all cocky with myself after Moira's VERY slight transformation, I decided to attack my hair. With Gusto.
WITH a bottle of Clairol aptly named, Copper Penny or something to the tune of that delicious phrase.....
I colored my business.
Yes, it brought me back to the good 'ol days when my friend and I would drink a bottle or two of cheap-assed wine, color our hair the loudest, most blaring outrageous Jessica Rabbit red hair color we could find and then, dance the light fandango with our fantastically drunken manes. Only to do the same damn thing the next few weeks later.
Yes, there was a time I didn't care about my hair and I mistakenly thought it looked fantastic.
Subsequently, no comment on the massive grey in the left pic. When you get old, this is this shit you have to deal with in spades. Every two weeks. Okay, so the first picture is more like months. So sue me, we're poor.
Fast forward to the here and now - I'm currently teaching myself the finer points of cutting/trimming my own hair - as in the bob I received way back in September.
Instead of using a kid from my vast supply as an experimental tool, I guess I'll use this:
Wish me luck.
Until next time: How I procured an art exhibit while lounging in a Huka bar without showing any credentials.
