The headline of this post should lead you to believe that I have finally put “fear of writing titles” far behind me.
“Woe is me, all summer long I was happy and free. Save my soul, the board of education took away my parole.”
Wherein I the cashier at the grocery store and I become best friends forever.
You went to the gym yesterday for the first time in a long time, admit it. You did.
If anyone gifts my 5-yr-old an object that makes or plays music, I will personally see to it that Santa takes a giant shit in their stocking.
A bit of an ode to my favorite season as it takes its last breaths.
This year I resolve to have Chuck model much more of my daily wardrobe. He’s going to love all my sports bras.
I suddenly looked up and, oh. Christmas is next week. Next week. Or, as Leta puts it, THE FARTHEST AWAY ANYTHING HAS EVER BEEN!
Carol, this is for you and your land of a thousand lakes. (Oops. I guess it’s 10,000 lakes. My bad!)
These are ridiculous. Flat out absurd.