Stuck

Dad, this post is not for you.






Let's talk about hair removal.

In the grand tradition of women everywhere I have a little Vietnamese friend who mows my lawn, so to speak. Frankly my lawn is little more than a scrawny patch of crabgrass in the parking lot, an unfortunate word choice to be sure but...you know what I mean.

Anyway.

This being the start of bikini season (which is irrelevant since I haven't owned a bathing suit since college but I'll say it anyway in case my father is still reading) I've been vigilant about keeping things tidy; wouldn't want the neighbors complaining and all. Since I'm heading to Chicago next week for several days and things would likely be a bit out of control by the time I came home, I figured I should make an appointment with the gardner.

A Memorial Day weekend appointment?

Silly girl.

I've, um, tended the gardens before, in almost all areas of the yard (excluding my eyebrows, because I only have about six eyebrow hairs to begin with and if I remove the wrong one I may as well just take them all off and wear hats). Yeah, it's sticky and irritating and it's eversomuch nicer when someone else is in charge of the tools, but I didn't die. Surely this can't be much different, right?

Um, no. Not right. Not even in the same universe as right. Wrong-o, Mary Lou.

That email that keeps going around about so-and-so's aunt who gets her butt cheeks glued together by hardened wax after answering an ill-timed phone call IS ALL TRUE.

In desperation I even tried shaving it off, so now I have absolutely no lawn at all except for this irregular mangy blob. How very brokedown.hooker-fabulous.

If I could find that damn email she probably mentions the key to being able to remove the patch of wax currently adhering to my nether regions.

And pajama pants.

But I can't. So if anyone has a suggestion I'll be 'round soon.

Because when I'm at work tomorrow and can't pry my underwear away from my freshly-paved-but-for-that-pothole-over-there girl parts to pee...well, it's not going to be good.

At all.

Juliet

:: wow, it's 9:12 PM
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Habitless

Awww! It's like old home week in here and I've been missing it!

I was in the habit of writing for a couple of years, and you'd think that would carry over. But it's like the habit of eating healthy foods: as soon as someone gives you a free pass you're face down in the Cheetos with a smear of chocolate icing in your hair.

I should know. I had to buy new fat pants today.

And start taking Gaviscon at night.

Whatever.

I'm starting to get back into the swing of things, though, beginning with a rekindled obsession with my statcounter. I also checked my comments about fifty times a day for a few days, but then I started feeling guilty because I had nothing witty to post back and couldn't figure out a halfway decent blog topic, so I just stopped checking.

I learned that at work.

I also learned that pressing the start button while the coffee maker is off starts it anyway, so don't press it twice.

Anymore.

What have YOU learned this week? For the love of Christ will someone please post me a potential blog topic? Because I'm sure everyone would think that was just grand.

I've missed you all so much!

Love,
Mama J

:: wow, it's 8:51 PM
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