• Calling all the gals out there who wear PJs to the store. I want to be your friend.
• I once had a friend who exercised even when she was sick as a dog. She claimed that the sweating removed all of the “toxins” from her body. I, on the other hand, prefer to wallow in bed and whine. I find that this course of action works best for me. If you’re the sort who will exercise at any cost, please don’t call me, unless you are planning to reform. I try not to associate with your kind.
• While at the drugstore this morning (in those PJs, remember?) the credit card machine asked me, as always, if the amount being charged was o.k. “No, it is NOT o.k.,” I scream, shaking the little, innocent machine with all my might. “It is NOT o.k. and I will NOT pay that ridiculous amount,” I holler even louder, scaring a small child nearby. “I would rather get my Valium for $1.99 – better yet, I’d like it for FREE.” Having said my peace, I pay for my stuff and stomp out of the store. It felt good.
• A friend of mine has joined the gray hair bandwagon. Yes, she’s ditching the dye. And if you’ve seen me lately, you’ve probably come to the conclusion that once again, so am I. (And why wouldn’t I? Gray matches my wardrobe of 96% black clothing, after all.) Silence that thought – it’s BLASPHEMY! So, yes, it’s time to get off my sorry old a-s and hobble over to my favorite organic grocery store for the finest all-natural hair color. Next, I will proceed to dye my brown-gray hair black as night and lament about it while washing it about 17 times to try to get some of the color out. It will soon have the consistency of straw, which will inspire me to put the stringy mess into a ponytail and wonder if maybe it would be more glamorous to go BALD. Then there will be the inevitable hair dye spots on the walls and ceiling, which I will have to scrub off.
Beats being gray.