That's the name of my next novella.
Or at the very least, it's the name of this post.
ha.
Ok, I think the thunderclouds of doom have passed.
I suppose pms and stress, though great rhymes partners,
do not work well together in practice.
Let's just say I wouldn't recommend the combination.
I also will try not to underestimate the power of a good
solid
hot-steamy
romp.
Talk about a great release of tension.
I don't think we've gone that long without sex since the twins were babies.
I don't remember if we ever had sex then, but I'm pretty sure we did.
Oh the foggy years...
So, the great, mysterious haircut...
well.
I have a confession to make.
The reason I haven't scrambled to post a picture is this:
it didn't turn out quite how I had hoped.
The guy did a great job, it's just that I have difficult hair.
And I'm talking difficult like the LSAT, or GREs.
Difficult like Med school.
Difficult like a 2 year old, without a nap, on an empty stomach, in a candy/toy store.
So, it looks fine.
It's just that I've had this haircut before and it's not really tootin' my horn.
I don't really care, either way.
As much as I ham it up on here, I am super low-maintenance in real life,
and about as self-conscious as a statue.
So, really, I'm cool.
I finished up a few more people on my Christmas list today.
I really love shopping for people I love.
It's so fun to find things I think they'll love, or like...
Today the weather was strange...
it was like it really wanted to snow,
but its mom wouldn't let it...
Please, mom? Can I? Can I? Pleeeease?
I can see little boy weather, hopping from one foot to the other,
big eyes upcast...shuffling off, disappointed.
Not today, son. Maybe tomorrow.
Oh come, on if there's a Mother Nature, surely there are bastard children running around, making messes for her to clean up, squabbling with each other, and asking her advice.
I am leaning back in my chair, eyes closed.
I am braething deeply in, through my nose,
then slowly out.
I am letting all the negativity roll off me like drops of water.
There is so little of it, really, in the beauty of my life.
I can't promise that I'll never let what strangers say get to me--
but I will be making some changes to my commenting system.
I am too tender of a soul to allow it to continue as it is.
And now I am off to make french toast and sausage for my kids' dinner.
They are DYING to have it...
and it reminds me: I don't think I've ever made breakfast for dinner before.
Not for my family, at least.
Maybe when I was single.
Hm.
I also NEVER cook spaghetti.
It's too easy...always seemed like a cop-out.
I've found a lovely jarred sauce that I like (Barilla tomato basil)
and I've been trying to remember to make that on days when I don't feel like cooking.
Cuz it's better than nothing.
Last night, though, I made roast chicken and mashed potatoes and corn and stuffing and cranberry sauce...
mmm....little mini-thanksgiving.
I love to cook.
I just hate planning menus.
Abhor, loathe, detest.
anywho.
Hope you all have a grand Saturday evening (or Sunday afternoon, depending on your hemisphere)
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