Thursday, February 12, 2009

Scratchy

Last week I decided to carry out a little experiment. I shaved my facial hair and let it grow for one week. I must say, it grew a lot. These pictures don't do it justice. I'm glad my experiment is over because it itches. Badly ;P
I apologize for the bad lighting. I was under a window and far too comfortable to move.
Huh. My eyes kind of look grey/blue in the last picture.

I had a really weird dream last night. I dreamt I went camping. And I kept on getting up to put the tarp on top of the tent because it was supposed to rain. But whenever I went outside there were these bright red frogs that I was scared to go near. And for some reason if the frog got in the tent it would stay forever and make bad things happen. So I never put the tarp up. I don't think it ever rained ;P

I went to CVS this morning to pick up my prescriptions and figured I should pick up a Valentine's Day card, it being the 12 of February and all ;P As I was looking through the god awful array of Hallmark greetings, I noticed one man to my right and one directly behind me. All doing the same thing: Almost-not-quite last minute shopping. I also noted one of the same men searching through the V-Day aisle for that perfect something. (He was looking at the giant chocolate hearts. NEVER go for the giant chocolate heart unless it's high end and will cost more than a nice bouquet of roses. And never let on that you were in CVS the Thursday before. If anyone asks you got the chocolates as soon as they unloaded the boxes.)

I'm currently reading The Story of Edgar Sawtelle by David Wroblewski. My reason for reading this was because it was on Oprah's book list. I requested it from the library and waiting quite sometime. I think I was #400+ in line. And the reason I'm reading it right now is because it's due the 17th and I can't renew it.

The orange "trigger" was broken off of the spray bottle of shout the last time I did laundry in Worcester. So now every time there is a stain on an item of clothing the person must unscrew the top and gently pour shout everywhere. It's either that or jab something into the space where the trigger used to be. When I got soup all over my sweatpants I opted with the first option, mostly because me jabbing anything usually ends up in more pain. And blood. Which would lead to more shout. You see my point.

My cat is a little slow. You may think I'm being mean, but he really is. Most cats understand a firm "NO." They also know enough not to jump on table tops and counters. Not Porkchop. He thinks the kitchen table is a perfect place for a cat nap and the counter is where all cats go to hang out. Time and time again I say no, I bang things, I pick him up and move him. Only to find him back on the table, happy. He'll be 2 in April so I hope wisdom really does come with age.