So, we are moving the second week of March. I would LOVE, LOVE, LOVE to plan a get-together. I am really bummed I didn't get to see my Tri-Cities tribe when I came home.
Also, I will gladly post updates when I post new pictures - fair warning, I post new pictures at an incredible rate. Bev is certain that she has never seen so many pictures of one baby. Since there's upwards of 300 and she's only three months old. . .I'm no math major, but that's a lot of pictures!
Friday, January 16, 2009
Thursday, January 15, 2009
Your Wish is My Command
Amy requested in no uncertain terms that I get off my lazy ass and get back to my blog. I haven't been doing much lately, other than mommying and getting back into the swing of things with work...except for one odd behavior I've picked up.
I've become...girly.
Truly, disgustingly girly. I do my hair, I wear makeup. I wear shirts with neither cartoon characters nor smartass sayings on them. They all have a collar. I freaked out people at work, who have only mostly seen me in jeans, t-shirts and a belt with a Batman buckle, when I showed up in a blue oxford and dress slacks.
I'm not sure what's gotten into me, but the tomboy in me is both repelled and fascinated. I like the way I feel getting all gussied up. I actually spent a gift card on a curling iron, an implement of torture I swore I'd never, ever use. And then. . .then came the curlers.
I bought myself a set of ionic curlers for my birthday and played with them tonight. The results were painfully feminine; I felt like a pinup girl after. It wasn't bad for my first try doing girly crap with my hair, especially when my hair is in desperate need of a cut and style.
I'm not sure what's happened to me, but at least I look good doing it.
I've become...girly.
Truly, disgustingly girly. I do my hair, I wear makeup. I wear shirts with neither cartoon characters nor smartass sayings on them. They all have a collar. I freaked out people at work, who have only mostly seen me in jeans, t-shirts and a belt with a Batman buckle, when I showed up in a blue oxford and dress slacks.
I'm not sure what's gotten into me, but the tomboy in me is both repelled and fascinated. I like the way I feel getting all gussied up. I actually spent a gift card on a curling iron, an implement of torture I swore I'd never, ever use. And then. . .then came the curlers.
I bought myself a set of ionic curlers for my birthday and played with them tonight. The results were painfully feminine; I felt like a pinup girl after. It wasn't bad for my first try doing girly crap with my hair, especially when my hair is in desperate need of a cut and style.
I'm not sure what's happened to me, but at least I look good doing it.
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