Hair: New (well, sorta)
It is a sorta lazy day today:
6:20: I wake up, late because I have NOTHING TO DO TODAY! So I just do basically nothing for almost three hours. Wheee
9:15: I'm off to the 'brary to use a public PC for 'net because this here site (at home) was in use by The Beast. I needed to sign Sparky up for the People to People trip. Yes, he's going (assuming they'll have him!), and I'm sure you will soon be sick of hearing about it. While there, I also attempt to use X-Diary, which sucks, as I have volunteered to do a library class on blogs and feel I need some clue of something other than Blogger. Also, my niece calls in a bit of a dither to ask (beg) me to call bridal shops for her while she went to her job interviews. In my head: "Why does one need appointments to try on dresses?" I'm such a boy sometimes.
10:15: I head to the ATM and then to the hairdresser. Of course, am behind someone who counts her money, bill by bill, before pulling away from the thing, thereby blocking me and the rest of the line forming behind me. I also stop for a liter of Dr. Pepper. When I arrive at HQ, S says to me, in horror: "Are you going to drink ALL of THAT?" Confused, I say, "Well, not here, but yeah over the course of the day." "ALL of it??" She's incredulous. She has four kids under 7--how can she not know about Dr. Pepper (or Mountain Dew). But she does a fab job on my hair, the only complaint is my discovery upon departing that I appear to have road rash around my hairline. So instead of going for allergy shots, I go home to wash my face.
12:00: I wash my face. I start dinner in the crockpot (Swedish-y goulash). I read the paper (which means I read the two advice columns, one comic strip, the singles column--because it was a variation on this--and an article on "Trading Spouses" and "Wife Swap" that raises my feminist hackles), eat a slice of cold pizza, and retrieve my DP from the freezer where it has "recolded" itself. I'm off to the grocery store to buy foot spray (for the boys), bath salt and seriously-dry-skin-ick lotion (for me), spinach (for the pigs), and a birthday card (for someone at church...long story: short version--her ex is a prick). Home.
2:15: Call almost-nephew-in-law to pass along wedding dress appointments (see above) and chat about weddings in general. He's even more of a boy that I am ("9 months is enough time to make a baby, it should be enough to plan a wedding too."). Hang up. Stop laughing. Call Sparky's friend J's house to see if they can get together this weekend; leave message. Call dentist; they don't work on Friday afternoons. Log on to 'net for something serious and eventually end up checking all my Bloglines subscriptions (see left column) and voila! Here I be.
And the reason I started this entry:
I find it really amusing is that this blog has been read by people in the following countries--
The most worrisome of all the hits: three from "Unknown." Would that be Mars? Hell? Uh-oh.
- United States ("only" 84% of the hits--shocking! I figured for sure it would be closer to 95%)
- United Kingdom (all right, not a complete surprise---are they all Annie?)
- Canada (hmmm)
- Italy (buon giornio!)
- Philippines (uh-oh, N's parents....!)
- Argentina, Switzerland, Singapore (all with four hits each)
- Korea (3 hits)
- France, Egypt, Norway, Denmark, China, Malaysia, Brazil, Germany, The Netherlands, Uruguay (2 hits each)
- ...and with one hit each: Costa Rica, Greece (woohoo), Pakistan, Mexico, Portugal, Poland, Spain, Chile, Austria, Croatia (Hrvatska) (huh??), Hong Kong S.A.R., Ukraine, Israel, The Bahamas, Saudi Arabia, Belarus, and Belgium
Time to stir the crockpot and throw some polyurethane on the newly-stained doors.
Ciao/Salaam/Adios/Au revior/So long/Shalom.
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