My hair says, “Let’s go to the beach, people! Let’s go right now! Drop everything you’re holding and let’s go, or you are a complete waste of my time!” The rest of my appearance says, “Let’s complete a logic puzzle right now! Or a book! Yes, a book! Come on! YAY! Wait, why are you giving me that face?” I know I’ve talked about my hair before. You’re sick of it. I get it. But it’s been a bit of

It’s terrifying to discover that your support system has cracks in it. You pay really close attention to the foundation directly around where you stand for obvious reasons. That foundation is your day-to-day support. You rely on it, and you quickly notice if things are amiss. But, it’s easy to miss chinks in the armor of the foundation that you’ve been building for yourself throughout the years. You take that support for granted. And to discover that there are seriously

I got me some spanking new glasses almost a year ago. They are super hot looking and, therefore, upgrade my look from homely with earnest goodwill to less homely with earnest goodwill. (You can’t expect full-on makeovers from a pair of specs.) But when they are sitting by themselves on a table? Those babies scream SEXAYYYYYY!! I will swear to anyone who will listen that I’ve seen them wink at me and others who are believers in that type of

So, I’ve been having a bit of a showdown with my brain. It appears that she reads my blog and didn’t agree with my portrayal of her in some of my posts. So, she shut it down. BOOM! And I was pissed. And nervous. Because I also make my living by writing words. Words that need to join with other words to form some sentences that join with other sentences to convey important information to people. Or just information to

My brain is not my friend. I’d go so far as to say that my brain hates me. I know it sounds like a logic fail. My brain is me and all that. But in my case, the assertion stands up. For example, she’s always feeding me inappropriate words. Words close enough to the correct word to make it through my filter and out of my mouth. Furthermore, the dreams she subjects me to on the regular are truly horrifying. Apocalyptic-type

The revolving security door at my office rejected me last Friday. It flashed green when I swiped my badge tricking me into entering its little tube of contained crap-air, and then halfway through my journey to the other side, it stopped completely, trapping me with nowhere to go, and started belting out an alarming noise to alert people from miles away that I was unwanted. AND THEN IT REVERSED DIRECTION AND EJECTED ME. In front of a line of 10