My hair, which has been maundering along since I buzzed it last August, has now subsided gently into a feathered helmet. Clearly there are only two solutions, which are 1) Buzz it all off again. 2) Become amazingly rich in a short space of time and purchase personal hairdressing services, to include gorgeous colors, extensions, and an invisible hair swinger.
(DEAN STOCKWELL HOW WERE YOU THIS LITTLE)
Was thinking about journaling the other evening, as I walked the dog and watched for mountain lions. (Except not very well, because was thinking about journaling. Probably we were stalked by mountain lions the whole time.) Was trying to parse out why Bridget Jones’s Diary doesn’t speak to me anymore. I enjoyed the first book, and the second, and I tried to read the third installment and I just couldn’t. And then I couldn’t go back and reread the first two, either. I think my BJ-emphathizer is broken. And then I had thoughts about journaling and personal reflection, and I congratulated myself on the depth of my thoughts, and then I held the baby a while and went to bed and forgot everything I thought about. It was genius, though. Trust me.
The idea of a Bernie vs. Donnie U.S. Presidential Race match-up is really getting me down. Well, honestly, a Donald Trump anything gets me down. Even with the benefit of this fantastic Trump Fart Chrome extension, which I will stop promoting the day I die. From my cold, dead hands, America.
But also I was thinking about how both Bernie and the Donald are purported to have gotten into the race not really because they wanted to be president (because they don’t/didn’t, no way!) but because they wanted to make a statement about elections and the presidency and special interests and blah blah blah. Does that make this the most hipster Presidential election to date, or what? Hey Hillary, there’s nothing more uncool than actually wanting to be president.
Regarding mountain lions: