I received my November issue of Harper’s Bazaar yesterday and once again the last page has pissed me off. Rife with contradictions, I had to leave my own commentary.
Oh, and I looked up “outre attire” – extravagant, bizarre, outlandish – oh give me a fucking break.
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got a few sheets of scrap booking paper (some had great patterns on both sides) and 2 things of 99-cent ribbon – cut them freehand – they’ll be stapled to brown lunch bags
It was hard not to shove that adorable cup and saucer in my purse!
cheese and more cheese…
and even MORE cheese…
I had a great time with these ladies! Laura, Jen, (me) and Victoria
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photo via
Mom & I did a little spa day with it. The hair mask made our hair silky soft (we have fine hair so we managed to split the sample), the face wash was watery but removed all eye makeup (smelled amazing but left my skin dry and tight), the eye pads were fun but I didn’t suddenly have the eyes of a toddler and NO WAY would I pay $60 for 10 sets. I haven’t tried the blinc eyeliner yet. Will report later!
It’s been a while since I’ve really complained so, here’s a few things that really grind my gears right now:
What’s grinding your gears these days? Vent!
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Oh most merciful Supreme Kitty, I thank thee for the bounteous backyards thou has placed before mine eye. Bless I, your humble servant, as I embark on my daily quest for sustenance and glory. Make swift mine legs and sharp mine claws, that I may chase down many mousies and little birds, and may your high priests The Hoomins smile upon mine offerings when I drop them on the carpet before them.
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First, Lord: No tattoos. May neither Chinese symbol for truth nor Winnie-the-Pooh holding the FSU logo stain her tender haunches.
May she be Beautiful but not Damaged, for it’s the Damage that draws the creepy soccer coach’s eye, not the Beauty.
When the Crystal Meth is offered, May she remember the parents who cut her grapes in half and stick with Beer.
Guide her, protect her when crossing the street, stepping onto boats, swimming in the ocean, swimming in pools, walking near pools, standing on the subway platform, crossing 86th Street, stepping off of boats, using mall restrooms, getting on and off escalators, driving on country roads while arguing, leaning on large windows, walking in parking lots, riding Ferris wheels, roller-coasters, log flumes, or anything called “Hell Drop,” “Tower of Torture,” or “The Death Spiral Rock ‘N Zero G Roll featuring Aerosmith,” and standing on any kind of balcony ever, anywhere, at any age.
Lead her away from Acting but not all the way to Finance. Something where she can make her own hours but still feel intellectually fulfilled and get outside sometimes and not have to wear high heels.
What would that be, Lord? Architecture? Midwifery? Golf course design? I’m asking You, because if I knew, I’d be doing it, Youdammit.
May she play the Drums to the fiery rhythm of her Own Heart with the sinewy strength of her Own Arms, so she need Not Lie With Drummers.
Grant her a Rough Patch from twelve to seventeen. Let her draw horses and be interested in Barbies for much too long, For childhood is short – a Tiger Flower blooming Magenta for one day – And adulthood is long and dry-humping in cars will wait.
O Lord, break the Internet forever, That she may be spared the misspelled invective of her peers and the online marketing campaign for Rape Hostel V: Girls Just Wanna Get Stabbed.
And when she one day turns on me and calls me a Bitch in front of Hollister, Give me the strength, Lord, to yank her directly into a cab in front of her friends, For I will not have that Shit. I will not have it.
And should she choose to be a Mother one day, be my eyes, Lord, that I may see her, lying on a blanket on the floor at 4:50 A.M., all-at-once exhausted, bored, and in love with the little creature whose poop is leaking up its back.
“My mother did this for me once,” she will realize as she cleans feces off her baby’s neck. “My mother did this for me.” And the delayed gratitude will wash over her as it does each generation and she will make a Mental Note to call me. And she will forget. But I’ll know, because I peeped it with Your God eyes.
Amen.
(I’m right there with you Aja! follow her!)
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photo (and a great review) via
The only thing it needs are some divider tabs. How cute are these index stickers!?
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(That’s like the horse head I died over at Home Goods over a year ago. Wish I had bought it!)
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