Dear Reader,
I have not blogged lately because I'm too busy thinking about my Botox. It was due to wear off any day now, and I've been trying to decide whether or not to get more. On the one hand, I looked younger, and as a side note, surprised. On the other hand, I suffered from puffy eyes more. Puffy eyes is a side-effect of Botox that doctors don't won't you to know about.
So for the last three months, I've been debating, do I want to do Botox again, and if so, can I deal with looking like a heroin addict? Puffy eyes makes the veins under my eyes more visible. That is not good.
Today, the damn Botox finally wore off. My eyes are not puffy, but on my right eye, especially, there are wicked wrinkles. I turned to Kiehls, my mainstay. I drank some wine. I am getting on a plane at midnight and I am flying to Savannah, where there is more humidity than common sense. I hope the humidity helps. Savannah is, by all accounts, more fun than Botox. On the other hand, the only place I can think of that is more humid than Savannah is the Rain Forest. They have things that kill you in the Rain Forest, at least the part that still remains. What would Al Gore do?
Regardless of what Al would do (obviously, by looking at him he does not do Botox) I still do not know if I will do another round of Botox or just relocate to the Rain Forest. On the one hand, if I relocate to the Rain Forest, I will have snakes and jumping spiders to concern myself with. If I do Botox, I have to deal with puffy eyes. You F'ing tell me, which is worse? Unless you are a man, you will not understand.
July 18, 2007
July 03, 2007
Brother Can You Spare a Scooter?
Um, is this irony? If so I’m not getting it. Sheryl Gay Stolberg (there’s a joke in that name somewhere, I just haven’t found it) writes in the Washington Post: “President Bush’s decision to commute the sentence of I. Lewis Libby Jr. was the act of a liberated man — a leader who knows that, with 18 months left in the Oval Office and only a dwindling band of conservatives still behind him, he might as well do what he wants.”
I wonder if Sheryl is like my pal KB’s token Republican friend, Beverly. I’ve known Beverly for the last four years, and during that time, two things remain constant. 1) Her love for George W. Bush, and 2) She’s always drunk. But it’s okay because she has fabulous taste in wine and has taught me about a couple good vineyards that produce consistent wine in the $30 range. I will always, and I mean always, tolerate a Republican who has good taste in wine.
But this is not a post about wine (damn, now I want wine). This is about the demise of what was once an evil marketing empire. W, I have two words for you: Mark Rich. Remember when Clinton pardoned him and your team just raised utter hell. Clinton had just sort of bounced back from the public relations mess of his last term (spearheaded by the Republicans) and the last thing he does is pardon a crone.
This is a bit different, especially in the timing as we have 18 more months of W to suffer through. But it is not much different. Letting a crone off easy is, well, cronyism. Cronyism works really well when I get to be the one who benefits from it. Oh now, I didn't mean that. Truly (Love me, W. Love me!)
Okay, no joking around, this was W showing his cards, showing his real self. Sheryl is somewhat right. I wouldn't call what he's done the act of a liberated man. He would have done the same thing in 2002 if given the chance. This is the act of an ass. Cue Cindy Lauper. "I see your true colors shining through. . ."
I wonder if Sheryl is like my pal KB’s token Republican friend, Beverly. I’ve known Beverly for the last four years, and during that time, two things remain constant. 1) Her love for George W. Bush, and 2) She’s always drunk. But it’s okay because she has fabulous taste in wine and has taught me about a couple good vineyards that produce consistent wine in the $30 range. I will always, and I mean always, tolerate a Republican who has good taste in wine.
But this is not a post about wine (damn, now I want wine). This is about the demise of what was once an evil marketing empire. W, I have two words for you: Mark Rich. Remember when Clinton pardoned him and your team just raised utter hell. Clinton had just sort of bounced back from the public relations mess of his last term (spearheaded by the Republicans) and the last thing he does is pardon a crone.
This is a bit different, especially in the timing as we have 18 more months of W to suffer through. But it is not much different. Letting a crone off easy is, well, cronyism. Cronyism works really well when I get to be the one who benefits from it. Oh now, I didn't mean that. Truly (Love me, W. Love me!)
Okay, no joking around, this was W showing his cards, showing his real self. Sheryl is somewhat right. I wouldn't call what he's done the act of a liberated man. He would have done the same thing in 2002 if given the chance. This is the act of an ass. Cue Cindy Lauper. "I see your true colors shining through. . ."
Hello? Is Anybody Out There
It's been a while since I blogged. I'm not sure I have any readers left as a result. Not that I've ever had many readers. I'm not sure how bloggers get readers, though I know some have been successful. They must have a wide social network of friends who read their blog. I have some friends. Some even like to read. Evidently, they don't like to read my stuff. I will try not to take it personal, but I can't even get my husband to read my blog. Now that's just sad.
I haven't blogged because we sold our house and moved to another part of town. Actually, we moved a quarter mile away. That's hardly another part of town. I still take the same route to work, that's hardly a move at all. Moving takes a lot out of you, as does selling your house. Today's post is about something that has been on my mind for 2 months. The people who bought my house.
When they made the initial offer, the bid $75K less than we asked. In doing so, they submitted a letter to us with the bid. I tore it up after I read it, but I will paraphrase right here:
"Dear homeowner:
We love your home, and we hope you will take this offer. We are good Christian family who will raise our children in the teachings of Jesus. Mom is a stay-at-home mom, and your house will be filled with the smell of baked cookies and other goodies. Little strays, friends of our children, often find their way here, and Mom takes them under her wing. Your pool will be filled with the sound of children's laughter. Blah, blah, blah, George W. Bush is great, we love Jesus, sell us your house."
Okay, that last line was totally made up, but I swear, they might as well have included that. I tore up the letter and refused their offer. I fumed for days over their nerve. How could they presume that raising a kid with good Christian values (what does that mean anyway, that they hate homosexuals and the French?) would make me take their low offer.
A week later, they came back with an offer much more reasonable. I almost did not take it, but fortunately, I was raised with good Christian values, and understood that a dollar is a dollar, and I shouldn't judge people just for being right wing. Plus the market here is really bad and I wanted to sell, and, the last laugh is on them because the neighbors that live behind us are the largest white trash in the world and it was move or kill the bastards. So we sold.
I have new white trash neighbors. This is Vegas, after all. My new neighbors have two pit bulls who I think might eat me if I look at them. So I don't go outside except to get in my car, which is parked in the garage, so techincially, I only DRIVE out of my house, not walk. It's too hot to walk in Vegas right now anyway.
I wonder sometimes how those people are doing living in my old house? Has the smell of tequilla in the blender been replaced with cookies? Has the sound of Sinatra been replaced with a whiney child's voice going, "Moooom, Timmy bit me."
Do they appreciate the little garden we grew in the makeshift courtyard we created? And most of all, I wonder if our white trash neighbors are driving them as crazy as they did us? If not, then I should have held out for more money.
I haven't blogged because we sold our house and moved to another part of town. Actually, we moved a quarter mile away. That's hardly another part of town. I still take the same route to work, that's hardly a move at all. Moving takes a lot out of you, as does selling your house. Today's post is about something that has been on my mind for 2 months. The people who bought my house.
When they made the initial offer, the bid $75K less than we asked. In doing so, they submitted a letter to us with the bid. I tore it up after I read it, but I will paraphrase right here:
"Dear homeowner:
We love your home, and we hope you will take this offer. We are good Christian family who will raise our children in the teachings of Jesus. Mom is a stay-at-home mom, and your house will be filled with the smell of baked cookies and other goodies. Little strays, friends of our children, often find their way here, and Mom takes them under her wing. Your pool will be filled with the sound of children's laughter. Blah, blah, blah, George W. Bush is great, we love Jesus, sell us your house."
Okay, that last line was totally made up, but I swear, they might as well have included that. I tore up the letter and refused their offer. I fumed for days over their nerve. How could they presume that raising a kid with good Christian values (what does that mean anyway, that they hate homosexuals and the French?) would make me take their low offer.
A week later, they came back with an offer much more reasonable. I almost did not take it, but fortunately, I was raised with good Christian values, and understood that a dollar is a dollar, and I shouldn't judge people just for being right wing. Plus the market here is really bad and I wanted to sell, and, the last laugh is on them because the neighbors that live behind us are the largest white trash in the world and it was move or kill the bastards. So we sold.
I have new white trash neighbors. This is Vegas, after all. My new neighbors have two pit bulls who I think might eat me if I look at them. So I don't go outside except to get in my car, which is parked in the garage, so techincially, I only DRIVE out of my house, not walk. It's too hot to walk in Vegas right now anyway.
I wonder sometimes how those people are doing living in my old house? Has the smell of tequilla in the blender been replaced with cookies? Has the sound of Sinatra been replaced with a whiney child's voice going, "Moooom, Timmy bit me."
Do they appreciate the little garden we grew in the makeshift courtyard we created? And most of all, I wonder if our white trash neighbors are driving them as crazy as they did us? If not, then I should have held out for more money.
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