News You Can Use

Or not.

For the most boring blog entry ever, I present to you:


New dental floss infused with toothpaste. I love this stuff, it's all soft and yarn-y. They stopped making yarn-y dental floss a couple of years ago, and I was all sad. I had to go back to using the waxed stuff, which they claim "glides" but it really "slices." "Slice" is a sucky name for dental floss, though.

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My friend Diane and I are in different magazines this month. That's right: We're famous.

Diane was interviewed by my anOTHER friend, Jennie, who then wrote about her in an article for Ancestry magazine. They are both quite prestigious now.

I am merely in a write-in blurb in Cookie Magazine; they asked "how do you get your child to talk more?" And I wrote "WHEN my child was x-age," we did THIS...only they edited to read "my son rides his bike along next to me when we walk..." Boy, anyone that reads that and knows us is going to think he is one Mama's Boy Soldier.

I will neither confirm or deny that.

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I got an e-mail on my personal account today, from my boss. It read "hot tea is ready."

Catch-22! Do I pretend I didn't get his e-mail because I'm working so hard? Or do I go get a cup of that kick-ass tea he makes with his home-grown mint?

Eh, he obviously knows I'm online. That tea is some good stuff. Puts me right to sleep.

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At Tai's recommendation, I picked up Lemony Snicket's Unfortunate Events: The Bad Beginning. I'm not thrilled to love it, as there are 12 more in the series, and this is going to cost me, big time.

I'm also reading Kane and Abel, by Jeffery Archer, and mucking through The Portable Dorothy Parker, which I love, but like to read in bits.

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At my mother's requests, I am going to try to sell my father's archery equipment. I've brought home both hunting bows and competition bows. I know nothing about either, and guess I'll get about researching the issue. If any of you have any advice, feel free to e-mail me.

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This is some old news, but while I was in LA, I succumbed to an eyebrow waxing. If I do say so myself, I'm blessed with good eyebrows. I never touch them; I don't pluck, wax, or string.

Still, the little pedicure girl that made my big toe bleed kept telling me that I needed some tidying up, indicating that I had a looming uni-brow. I figured it would only cost $10 to find out what LA eyebrows look like, and hell, they'll grow back if I hate it.

They make you lie down for this procedure; had you any idea? I came running out of the surgery room, raising my eyebrows at Lori for her inspection, and she responded "they look exactly the same."

Yeah, except since that very day, I've had a purple blemish tucked right into the arch of my right eyebrow—dont look at it! I'm just saying: I think I came home with heinous LA scar tissue. For only $10.

Thank God I passed on the Brazilian, eh?

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Though I've been spotted making horrendous faces over the taste of a martini, those crazy Maryland girls introduced me to my new favorite drink: a Dirty Martini. It is a martini with a shot of olive juice in it. Dirty Martini, where have you been all my life?

Just what I needed at 43.75 years of age: hard liquor and more salt.

Still. It's fun to order a drink with the word "dirty" in it. "Naughty" would be a good runner-up.

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Dirty martini is what I'll order at Boltini's on Saturday night, around 7:30, at The C-U Blogger's Meet-Up.

I've been asked to stop telling God and the whole world about myself, but there I go, posting dates, times, and places, where I'll be, on Saturday night. All you stalkers beware: At least 20 bloggers got my back Saturday night.

Hello?

Bloggers?

friends?

helloooooooooooooooo?