1-Single Mommy-ness: The Mister was at a golf/bachelor party all weekend (which is why Mini and I packed up to see Slizzard since her husband was also partaking in the debauchery). It was a fun weekend for me in a different way but completely exhausting from traveling with Mini. She was a total rockstar, but is a busy girl and I really didn't want to be the mom with the screaming asshole kid on the plane. So I had every imaginable treat, book, toy, game I could stuff into my bag and used them all to try to keep her entertained. (Turns out she thought the in-flight drink menu was way more exciting than what I brought. Don't even judge). I was literally so tired when I got home last night that when we were eating dinner I interrupted him telling me about how it was a perfect night to snuggle on the couch after we put Mini to bed to inform him that I was so tired that I wanted to cry. And I did. Want to cry. Even more so when he reminded me that he is leaving for Chicago tomorrow morning for three days. It took much restraint and self-control to not smash my delicious pizza in his face and shove pepperoni up his nose. Fuck! Luckily a good night's rest ( I was asleep by 8:00) put things into perspective and I feel much less like puncturing his man bits with my pointiest heels. Plus two nights of being able to catch up on my favorite shows (none of which he likes) and g-chat with my pals without feeling like a neglectful wife isn't SO bad.
2-Coachella Fashion. Seriously you guys. What the FUCK are people thinking when they dress for this event? I know it's a hippy dippy drug and music bash in the desert, but it appears to me that it's also a competition to see who can dress like the most whacked out, piece of fug hooker trash on the block. I just can't with these bitches: (but check out K. Stew's Hat!)
3. East Coast Weather. Two weeks ago I was wearing sundresses and sandals. Today I had to get my winter coat back out of the closet. WTF? When I make the warm weather switch to open toed shoes, pretty pink pedicures, and white wine, I get really salty when I have to bust the boots back out and mess up my pedi. (Going back to red wine when it's cold isn't QUITE as tough. I'm adaptable like that). But seriously, I need Mother Earth to make up her f-ing mind so it doesn't take me 25 minutes and three outfit changes to figure out what to wear each morning.
4. Bikram Yoga. Turns out I LOVE this stuff. I seriously felt remarkably more peaceful, healthier, and more zen-ish after one class than I have felt in a very long time. Like ever. Same for the second class I took. So why the "WTF"? Because it's 90 goddamn minutes long and I only have that kind of time once a week, if that. And I have to drive almost 20 minutes to get there. Isn't there some sort of "Bikram Light" that could open up in the yoga studio across the street so I could actually do it with any amount of regularity? Why do Bikram yogi hate working mothers?
I think that's it for now. Despite my weekend of pouring wine (red and white) in my gullet, I am counting down until I can head home and pour a glass (red, due to this bullshit weather) and finish the final "50 Shades" book on my iPhone while playing tea party with Mini and her 48 baby dolls (all named "baby doll").
Laters, baby.
SD
PS-This is my new favorite time suck EVER.
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