Wednesday, February 23, 2005

holy timesuckage

given my results on this quiz, it's no wonder i like to devise improbable batteries of tasks for the subservient chicken and say, "what the hell are you doing?!" i chuckle at his ineptitude as he shrugs his wings and wipes his brow.

thanks to trisha for the test and my mom for the chicken.

Tuesday, February 22, 2005


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the craziest of crazy-time is over!

after casey came home from work early not feeling well, we went to hot doug's and then had a long, lazy late afternoon nap in the bed, waking up with the jabberblabber of tabloid tv. bliss!

a few more weekends of travel, but the worst is behind me. at least i get to see my friends -- they're splattered all over the midwest -- which makes working every weekend for months at a time palatable and even enjoyable.

Wednesday, February 16, 2005

it's a good thing he's got good hair, eh?

the first night casey and i met, i sat and stared at the side of his head, marveling it: thick, marcelled, hazelnut-colored like his eyes. my god, i thought, he has such nice hair.

over the past three years of wedded bliss [almost five years as couple en toto], the glorious hair has been clipped to stubble, pomaded, grown back out, and lovingly coaxed into other incarnations: the caesar, the andy dick, the indie-rocker shag, the mohican. and yes, some of the glorious follicles that caught my attention, sensing their job is done, have since disappeared, but my memory of this day on the beach is as fresh as the valentine's day rose on my desk today.

... the feel of his freshly shaven face

... clutching his back in the tux jacket

... the cool way the sunset reflected light back into our eyes that made them feel like they glowed from the inside

... never wanting to stop hugging from ankle to earlobe

it seems fitting that, tonight, on our anniversary, we're headed to my sister's condo for her to cut our hair for the first time in probably a year.

happy anniversary! i love you!

Monday, February 14, 2005

one more week of this


can you keep up? baby boy, make me lose my breath, baby boy make me lose my [pant, pant]. breathe, stretch, shake, let it go. one and two and three and four and get those sit-ups right. get those tummies tight. when the pimp's in the crib, ma, drop it like it's hot, drop it like it's hot, drop it like it's hot. when the pigs try to get at ya, drop it like it's hot, drop it like it's hot. and if a b*tch get an attitude, drop it like it's hot, drop it like it's hot. i got my rolly on my arm and i pour chandon and i roll the best [insert whipcrack] 'cos i got it going on. drop down, girl, and get your eagle on! said my [boing] don't dance; we just pull up our pants and do the rockaway. now lean back, lean back, lean back, lean back.

to the window -- to the walls,
i-i-i'm missy on the microphone

Tuesday, February 01, 2005

seven years of stubbly brows

after two days of schlubbing it in the bathrobe, took an evening shower and enjoyed some time spent in grooming focus: tweezing, picking, moisturizing, self-tanning. unwittingly enabling my obsession with picking, my mom gave me a travel-size magnifying mirror complete with velveteen case and suction cup backing. unfortunately, its grip on my glassed-in shower broke loose and my precious mirror shattered. damn slippery apr├ęs-shower cleaning spray.

oh, my precious, precious, precious... master betrayed us! wicked, tricksy filth!