1 – I think someone washed my coffee cup at work – I’ve mentioned before the fact that I don’t wash my coffee cup. I have no idea why, and I consider myself a pretty clean person – not to the point of obsessive-compulsive (my OCD shows itself in other ways) but more clean than the average person. So this morning, I’m pouring my morning cuppa joe and notice that my coffee cup is, gasp, white. The fuck?
2 – I hear there’s a place in the Heights that is a mini-spa for little kids. Like, 8-year-olds can have their birthday at the spa and instead of smearing cake on each other and playing on the slip-n-slide, they can get mani-pedis. Come on, people. There’s plenty of time to teach your little girl that she’s a princess who should be pampered and never have to wait in lines or wipe her own ass – can’t you just let kids be kids for a little while? I don’t think I got my first manicure until I was well into my 20s. Why do we have to ‘ho up little Sally so early in life? Can’t she live in the fantasy that she can grow to be a successful woman without having cotton-candy-colored fingernails with glitter on them? If we’re so concerned about giving kids a taste of the adult life, maybe we should create little kiddie massage parlors. Kiddie gambling. Kiddie bikini waxes. Oh, wait – no hair. Maybe we can do kiddie pube transplants so they then have something to get waxed. FOR FUCK’S SAKE. Let’s let our kids be kids. Let them eat dirt.
3 – I got my hair cut by a professional yesterday. First time in almost a decade. She did a good job, but I let her cut over four inches off. It was the mousse fumes. And when she was done, rather than talk about how it looked in the front, she immediately whipped my chair around, handed me a mirror, and told me to look at the back. “Isn’t it sassy?” she asked. First of all, telling me my hair is sassy isn’t going to make me want to come back to you. Second, I’m more concerned about how my hair looks around my basketball head than how it looks in the back. But look at the LAYERS! Yes, look at the layers. Who gives a shit.