This spa day involved less relaxation and pampering and more kids climbing on your lap and threatening to jab you in the eye with the mascara wand. I tried explaining to my son that most makeup artists don’t actually sit on your lap while they work. I also attempted to explain to his sister that the eye shadow shouldn't form a complete circle around your eye.
|Since when do make up artists share lip stick with their clients?|
2. I ate my weight in Kit Kats and Twix last night. I feel confident Kit Kats contain crack and are highly addictive. I need a stint in Kit Kat rehab to break the cycle. Sadly, I don’t know that I’ve hit rock bottom yet. For example, my kitchen still contains 3 giant containers full of candy. I may or may not know exactly which one contains the remaining Kit Kats. I may or may not be thinking about them right this very second.
3. Finished Season 4 of Breaking Bad last night. Holy crud the last 2 or 3 episodes were off the chain. And I would like it noted that I totally knew where that poison had to have come from.
It probably doesn’t hurt if you barely value your own life so that the possibility of getting killed really won’t bother you. That is the only possible explanation for how people can act chill while death and destruction is driving directly towards them at 80 miles an hour.
This chick right here couldn’t do it. First, because I flush red when I’m upset. So my cards are on the table when I’m hacked off or nervous. Second, because I’d have a total heart attack in the midst of the death and destruction. Up until the heart attack I’d be alternating between screaming and weeping. If there’s blood involved, I’m thinking screaming. If there are threats of imminent harm, I’m thinking weeping. It's for the best that I don’t actually need to find out first hand.
4. I crammed myself into a size 6 pair of jeans recently. Shock and awe that they buttoned and zipped. More shock and awe that you can cram yourself into size 6 pair of jeans and still have a total muffin top situation going on. But muffin top sticking out the top of size 6 jeans is better than muffin top sticking out the top of the size 18 jeans I started with. So, holla!
5. My husband did not know what a muffin top was when I subjected him to my muffin top analysis. He asked me if it was some sort of blogging term. Um. Yeah. It’s blogger code for do some sit ups already, girl.