tuckova

If you are the sort of person to whom a totally hot brilliant woman could say, "Hey do you want to come on an all-expenses-paid trip to Greece for which the main goals would be: play games, drink booze, look at pretty stuff, and sleep late," and you would say, "No," then you are the sort of person to whom yours truly is married. Who are you people and what the aitch-ee-double hockey sticks is up with you? I don’t get it. Sometimes it is hard to be a boomerang.

Hey so I helped certain wise people color hair this weekend. Does anybody else find the whole "dying/dyeing" thing funny? I mean particularly after Easter and with the whole "the eggs are dying" thing? Just me? Well alrighty then. Apparently I think I am immortal, and therefore I have Wicked Witch of the West fingers. It is stupid and I know it is stupid but it wasn’t a fatal mistake, and I spent the weekend saying things like "I’ll get you my pretty!" which was totally funny to everybody and not just me, every. single. time.

I forgot to tell you about a hundred things. I’m sorry about that. One of the most important has to do with coming to terms with my limitations and how acknowledging that I can’t do something is the most soul-wrenching fact to voice, but once it’s over it’s the most liberating thing ever, because it means I don’t have to worry every day about getting caught being as weak. When you play Scrabble it’s normal to want to save your tiles for a seven-letter triple word score, but unless you’re a master it’s easier to give that up. Then you get to play with the tiles you have, and then you win. It’s a whole thing.