I woke up this morning with that achy-painy, crampy sour stomach PMS thing. Or that achy-painy, crampy sour stomach had 4 gin and tonics thing. Sage shopping advice: do not buy tonic water by the liter--you will feel compelled to use it all before it goes flat. Which is, approximately, 4 giant gin and tonics.
Even The Mummy: Tomb of the Dragon Emperor was almost tolerable after that many drinks. No, actually, that is not true. The Mummy: Tomb of the Dragon Emperor would be intolerable unless you had passed out from g and t's. Even then, touch and go.
Clooney looks a bit rough this morning, too. He got groomed two days ago, and the groomer put that stupid bow in his hair again. But, after two days, the bow is a bit disheveled, and the hair is falling out of it, and the gingerbread man on the bow is upside down. Such that in my morning grousing, I thought he resembled a slightly past her prime daytime hooker. Poor thing, I would take out the bow, but meh. This way I can still see his so-ugly-it's-almost-cute face. E will pull it out soon enough.
So, this morning, S comes in to my room in the weeeeeeeeeeeeee hours of the morning and gets in my bed. He puts his feetcicles right between my toasty knees and expects a warm up. There is nothing like ice cold feet in your warm covers at 5-something in the morning. Then, he wakes the dog, who loves to pull my hair while it's all splayed out on the pillow. While it feels kinda good that he scratches and massages my scalp, I could totally do without having my hair yanked at that hour. Finally, the cat mews in. He slept inside because it has been kill-a-cat cold outside the last two nights. I decide to get out of bed.
Now, I have coffee/death breath, dog-teased hair resembling Drew Barrymore's coif from the Golden Globes, big terry robe, mismatched jammies, and the ever-fashionable Croc flops on (walked the dog). I squint at the too-bright computer screen to check mail, and read the news. I need to read the headlines first thing in the morning to confirm the world did not end overnight. Which is funny, since of course the Internet wouldn't work if the world ended overnight. But still. I scour headlines for natural/weather related disasters and plane crashes. Mostly because I find the first fascinating and if I could have any job in the world, it would be NTSB investigator, since those people are awesome. Thankfully, the skies were friendly last night, and I had email from a childhood friend who found me on Facebook. It was very nice to hear from her, as she appears very successful, happy, engaged, and really in a good place. Also, she said I had an elegance in my photo that was Grace Kelly-ish.
How could I have let THIS friend slip away??
There is nothing better than looking like an absolute refugee/hobo in the still-dark of the morning and reading that I had elegance. It puts a wry smile on my face now. Even in the harsh-not-yet-showered lookin' like Courtney Love reality of day.
Grace Kelly. Heh.
Even The Mummy: Tomb of the Dragon Emperor was almost tolerable after that many drinks. No, actually, that is not true. The Mummy: Tomb of the Dragon Emperor would be intolerable unless you had passed out from g and t's. Even then, touch and go.
Clooney looks a bit rough this morning, too. He got groomed two days ago, and the groomer put that stupid bow in his hair again. But, after two days, the bow is a bit disheveled, and the hair is falling out of it, and the gingerbread man on the bow is upside down. Such that in my morning grousing, I thought he resembled a slightly past her prime daytime hooker. Poor thing, I would take out the bow, but meh. This way I can still see his so-ugly-it's-almost-cute face. E will pull it out soon enough.
So, this morning, S comes in to my room in the weeeeeeeeeeeeee hours of the morning and gets in my bed. He puts his feetcicles right between my toasty knees and expects a warm up. There is nothing like ice cold feet in your warm covers at 5-something in the morning. Then, he wakes the dog, who loves to pull my hair while it's all splayed out on the pillow. While it feels kinda good that he scratches and massages my scalp, I could totally do without having my hair yanked at that hour. Finally, the cat mews in. He slept inside because it has been kill-a-cat cold outside the last two nights. I decide to get out of bed.
Now, I have coffee/death breath, dog-teased hair resembling Drew Barrymore's coif from the Golden Globes, big terry robe, mismatched jammies, and the ever-fashionable Croc flops on (walked the dog). I squint at the too-bright computer screen to check mail, and read the news. I need to read the headlines first thing in the morning to confirm the world did not end overnight. Which is funny, since of course the Internet wouldn't work if the world ended overnight. But still. I scour headlines for natural/weather related disasters and plane crashes. Mostly because I find the first fascinating and if I could have any job in the world, it would be NTSB investigator, since those people are awesome. Thankfully, the skies were friendly last night, and I had email from a childhood friend who found me on Facebook. It was very nice to hear from her, as she appears very successful, happy, engaged, and really in a good place. Also, she said I had an elegance in my photo that was Grace Kelly-ish.
How could I have let THIS friend slip away??
There is nothing better than looking like an absolute refugee/hobo in the still-dark of the morning and reading that I had elegance. It puts a wry smile on my face now. Even in the harsh-not-yet-showered lookin' like Courtney Love reality of day.
Grace Kelly. Heh.
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