You know it's time to get your hair wet in the shower when you start pulling out all the tricks you've mastered while you were camping in order to not look greasy. Oh but I'm not camping. Not unless you consider paying $400 a month for a private bathroom camping.
Sometimes I do add my 15 degree sleeping bag to the pile of blankets I sleep under though. So maybe I really am camping. Which means I don't need to get my hair wet after all?
See what I did there?
Three things that have been on my mind:
one scandalized baby
No, I did not switch my photobooth to the mirror effect in order to maximize the smooching of this tasty niece. It's just sisterly silhouettes of the EmmCo. and myself.
one reassuring fortune cookie
It's just nice to hear every once in a while, ya know?
What is this? I don't get this at all. It seems the urinary system (urinary system? really?) is really throwing me for a loop. A nephron loop, that is. Get it? At least the system of micturition, has left me with such vocab as 'juxtaglomerular apparatus.' Forever my go-to phrase to prove that I learned something in BYU physiology.
Please buy The Strokes' new album. I saw them live only a hand-full of weeks ago and boy oh boy lemmetellya. I want to crawl inside of each one of those boys' leather jackets and run my fingers through their greasy hipster hair.
This is a hard time of year. Enough said, right?
Ever since I got my car's radio fixed I sing less. But as it turns out, this also has some effect on the amount of people I know who see me in my car. (?) Before it seemed every other day someone was saying how they saw me turning left on University or pulling into Target. Each one of those people inevitably saw me singing my little guts out to absolutely no music at all.
Or playing the harmonica.
I got really good in those months without car radio. Maybe if The Strokes aren't your cup of tea than pure Bob-inspired harmonica is what you'd be into.