Brain purge

Seeing as I haven't posted here in the last week with Spring Break and everything I think I am going to take this moment to purge my brain of some random thoughts- which is really how my brain works- not in a neat and tidy linear operation.....

Last week was Spring Break. I have mixed feelings about this as a holiday of sorts. When I was in high school I sooo wanted to take a fantastic trip to an exotic location such as Myrtle Beach. I wanted to spend the week crammed into a hotel room with 19 other people and lounge on the beach and come back with a story of some cool dude I met from some other exotic location- like possibly Kentucky. Or Michigan. But alas, my parents didn't believe in Spring Break. As in "we don't believe in Santa Claus or Spring Break." These days I do get to travel some over this "holiday"- and by "travel" I mean "go to Fairfield, Ohio." The upside (?) to this is that I do get to share a room with many other people and there is always a hullabaloo going on. The downside (?) is that the shared room and hullabaloo are all attributed to my Monkeys.

I have not been able to go see my beauty pit crew in a while and the other day in a furious attempt to groom myself, I overplucked my eyebrows. Damn. It was one of those back-and-forth attempts to even things up that was my total downfall. All I really wanted to do was rid myself of the terrible stray hairs that make my eyebrows look like they actually connect to my eyelashes. Now I think my only option is to shave them off and draw on new ones. I like this option actually, because it will give me the opportunity to do the one-eyebrow-raised look that I can't do in real life (and am totally jealous of when other people do it).

I hate capri pants. I only mention this because over the holiday I went to one of those family functions where capris not only seem appropriate, but mandatory. I realize there are people in this world that actually shop for these almost-pants, like them, and even wear them willingly. But not me. I don't know- maybe it is the babydoll-dress-and-Doc-Marten-wearing twenty year old in me or maybe it is the fact that I am 5'3" and they make me look like I am wearing my little brother's pants, but I have never been able to get on board with this particular item of clothing. (It should be noted that the writer of this post is, at this very moment, wearing cutoff jean shorts and an older-than-dirt Cleveland Indians t-shirt and possibly should not be making any statements regarding fashion.)

I love strawberries. I love them so much I can eat my weight in them. I also know how to make them into a delicious shot-delivering vehicle.

And..... that's enough for now.... except to direct your attention above to the picture....nice, huh? (that's right, I'm totally being all show-off-y about it, seeing as I NEVER actually look like that in real life.)