I know that someday you'll find better things.

Monday, November 25, 2013

Forgetfulness is in Fashion!

On Friday evening, I glanced in the mirror and realized I’d forgotten to comb my hair that morning after showering. And I ran a ton of errands that day.

How could this have happened?!

Then Hannah, my trusty Daughter-From-Another-Otter (got something better?) swooped in with some major reassurance.

Hannah says it’s all the rage right now.
Hannah says the style even has a name.

It’s called ‘tousled waves’. She even proved it by showing me pictures of celebrities sporting similar looks.

I wasn’t absent-minded after all. I was en vogue!

The day was saved.

This was from the time I forgot to comb my hair last summer,
which wasn't so bad since I didn't leave the house.
Maybe I should have-- I could have STARTED the trend!

Friday, November 15, 2013

People Pants

“You look really nice,” Russ said as he walked through the door Tuesday evening. “Go anywhere special today?”

If only!

“No,” I confessed. “All of my sweatpants are in the wash, so I had to wear people-pants today.”

When one has to wear people-pants, it is practically required to wear a people-shirt, too.

Here is the thing about people-pants: they keep you honest in a way that sweatpants definitely cannot. People-pants are not forgiving. They don’t go with the flow of weight gain the way their synthetic siblings do.

And to be honest, my people-pants are getting a little snug.

Looks like I’ll be heading back to the gym in time to beat the post-holiday rush.

Thursday, November 14, 2013

Gas Pains

The trailhead for the Havasu area of the Grand Canyon is in a remote location. Maps and websites caution travelers to fuel their tanks before the final 65-mile stretch leading to the canyon’s edge, as there simply won’t be another opportunity.

Not there, not back.

Somehow we forgot about this detail until it was almost too late. Thank goodness the gas station we practically coasted toward utilized this fact as a major part of their advertising—signs everywhere proclaimed it was the LAST chance for gasoline, and boy did they take advantage of it.

It was March of 2004, and the cost of a gallon of gas in Dallas was somewhere between $1.20 and $1.40, depending on which supermarket loyalty card you sported.

Last Chance Gasoline was almost 200% of what we’d paid at the start of our journey.

“Oh well,” said Mia’s dad, as he pulled up to the pump and shifted the car to park.
“No way!” I argued. “This is insane. This is ludicrous! I am not going to support this kind of bullying. We need to go somewhere else.”
“There is nowhere else. Didn’t you see the sign?”

We looked out across the flat, flat landscape.
Visibility? Somewhere around 65 miles.
Sixty-five miles of vast nothingness.

“Then we need to go back the way we came. Surely there are more ethical service stations in Arizona.”
“Do you remember the last time we passed one?”

No, I did not. So it was with great reluctance that I conceded. While he pumped, I pouted. And grumbled.“Do you believe these people? Ridiculous. Thieves are what they are! Bullies!”

Mia’s dad just sighed and shook his head in what I hoped was agreement.

Oh, but I wasn’t done. “It’s unbelievable is what it is. Nobody at home is going to believe this insane price. In fact, I’m going to take a picture to show everyone the kind of injustice that is happening right now in our very own country.”

And so I did.

I talk about that photo more often than I care to admit.
But now—in a disgusting tangle of irony—it’s with nostalgia.

“Remember back in 2004 when a gallon of gas was only $2.19? Those were the good old days… Yup, back when things were reasonable…”