September 21, 2007
Yes, this is my friend from back in the day, Lisa, spotted online. And yes, she appears to be kissing a giraffe. (read the caption; it’s not quite as scandalous as it seems!)
Lisa is now expecting her first child, which means there’s hope for me . . . oh wait. no, there really isn’t, since I am not a) married or b) model-level gorgeous.
oh well . . .
September 10, 2007
(so I wrote this over the weekend, after having been writing it in my head for about a week, and was “storing” it so that I wouldn’t release all of my blog entries at one time . . . but as you will see, this was perhaps more timely than I could have guessed. If I believed in karma, I would say that I had somehow angered some tooth god, or otherwise upset the balance of the universe, by complaining about toothpaste . . . but no, I think it’s just a coincidence. oh wait. I don’t believe in those, either.)
Seriously, though. I find myself dreading the moment when I reach the bottom of a tube of toothpaste. I take great pains to squeeze out every last bit from the tube, so as to avoid the inevitable barrage of choices that will face me when I go to the store for a new tube.
I just want toothpaste. I don’t want whiter teeth in thirty days. I don’t want to be “luminous“. I don’t want to experience the taste of vanilla mint at 7 in the morning. I don’t want sparkling expressions in fruity flavors. I don’t want a baking soda and peroxide party in my mouth.
I JUST WANT REGULAR, GARDEN-VARIETY, NON-WHITENING TARTAR CONTROL COLGATE GEL!
but I couldn’t find it, so this time I got this instead . . .
(sigh . . . ) it will have to do for now . . . 
September 5, 2007
August 27, 2007
As if I don’t have enough to worry about . . . it turns out that perhaps my underarms are aging . . .
seriously, though. who thinks up this stuff?
