I have been more than a little schizo there days with the blogging.
I haven't been here much.
So, I figure- why ruin a good thing?
#1) I think my ovaries shriveled a little just reading this.
#2) I realized today, after they had been on my feet for 3+ hours that my Birkenstock clogs had taken on the same smell that my garbage can has on a 95-degree day & the flies are swarming. Time to soak them in bleach, methinks.
#3) I'm going to Duluth this weekend. I will be attending the West Duluth cotillion/street dance this evening. The band Hairball will be playing, and with any luck the Busch lite will be free-flowin'. I thought this dress would be appropriate. Any thoughts?
#4) I got these awesomely awesome clutch purses at the thrift store the other day. God I do so love other peoples' unwanted crap. And I really do use clutches. They're both leather and were about $1.50/a piece. The turquoise one looks very 1983, but the tag inside tells me it's more 1973. Either way, they make me happy.
#5) I also got these sweet crocheted pot holders at the same store for $.95 each. I'm thinking "grandma chic".
I love them.
XO to you, little birdie.
#6) Last night we had two, count em' TWO different soirées we were invited to. The first was throw by a colleague of mine and consisted of a fabulous wine tasting (nine, to be exact) paired with a ton of food. We were given glasses upon our arrival, then we went around to different "stations" where a description of the wine and such and such was posted. We mingled, ate fabulous food, fell in love with her Danish-modern decorating, and overall, felt classier then we actually are.
The second shindig consisted of a BBQ at a friends house with bacon-wrapped ricotta-stuffed chicken and libations that we drank out of mismatched glassware and mason jars.
Here- let me loosen my jeans a bit and pick this chunk of whatever out of my teeth with my finger.
Ahhh...that's much better. Now I can be myself.
So, hopefully I will have tales of glory and valor from the great north and the hee-haw street dance.
As an aside: I met the boy who would give me my first kiss at this very street dance when I was 14. Imagine a giant fish mouth, dipped in a bucket of spit and attached to a vacuum cleaner.
You get the idea.
I will take pictures this weekend.
Have a fabulous weekend, my little honey-dipped Circus peanuts.