Let’s start off by noting today is a good, no, GREAT hair day. Of course I don’t have anywhere to take this glorious hair, just to work and back. I am meeting a friend in the work cafeteria for lunch today, so all of my good hair hopes are riding on that encounter. *Please* let her point out my fabulous hair! Otherwise it’ll be a complete waste.
Unfortunately the shirt I’m wearing probably cancels the hair out. On a recent TJ Maxx excursion I found the world’s greatest sweater and I picked up a black and white modified oxford for work. It’s from Tweeds, a reliable brand, and it was only $13. The color combo, the length, and the price were all right, so it ended up in my closet.
After I tried the shirt on the first time I had a couple of misgivings – something about the cut just didn’t feel right. Still, I threw out the tags and hung the shirt up, assuming it was the pants I was wearing or the light or something. I continued deluding myself all the way into the office this morning. But I can’t pretend any longer. This shirt looks like a maternity shirt.
I should point out it’s NOT a maternity shirt – I’ve already been in the bathroom today to check the tag. It’s just cut weird. Maybe that’s why it was $13 at TJ Maxx? So yeah, I’m going to walk around with my arm over my belly all day and any whisper that would have previously been dedicated to my fabulous hair will now be relegated to “WTF? Why has she held her arm over her stomach all day? Did she accidentally wear a maternity shirt?”
Yesterday I emailed a story around about Teanne Harris, a jilted bride from Chicago who turned her frown upside down by donating her non-refundable wedding reception to a local nursing home. I sent the article for two reasons, one being the life affirming message of a woman making other people happy despite her sorrow, and the other being the story’s extraordinarily poor writing.
While I thought the caption was hilarious on its own, my friend Jenni sent me the following message last night.
Here is some more poorly written reporting from a story that came up on the sidelines of the link you sent:
The emergency dispatcher, trying to determine the driver’s location, asked Strey if she was driving behind the drunk, according to TV station WEAU 13.
“No,” she replied, “I am them.”
To which the surprised dispatcher replied, “You am them?”
Ahh, good times. Thanks, Jenni.
p.s. I’d be a total jerk if I didn’t mention the amazing package that arrived from Jenni yesterday. It included all sorts of treats, but the vintage I Heart General Hospital mug was something out of a dream. Thank you thank you thank you!