*Today I passed by Left Bank Books in the Central West End. I had forgotten about their big, fluffy black cat. A bookstore with a live-in cat? Fantastic. Are you hiring?
|Might I suggest something from our excellent Garfield selection?|
*Attention citizens of St. Louis: avoid driving on Skinker and even the portion of Delmar near Skinker if you want to avoid feeling an intense hatred for the entirety of the Loop, and the world as a whole.
*I STILL have the melody from a made-up lullaby my sister used to sing to her dog stuck in my head. It’s been there since this morning. I don’t feel good about myself right now, and I’m getting sleepy. It doesn’t even have good lyrics! It’s just an assortment of locations listed in no particular order set to a soothing tune! “Afghanistan….Pakistan…Zimbabwe….North Dakota”
And yet, that stupid little dog would flutter its eyes and slowly melt into the couch for a nap just about every time Amy would sing to her. My family is…off.
*I have my make-up trial tomorrow, which makes me incredibly nervous. I’ve never had my make-up done professionally for anything, so I’m not sure how I’m going to like it. That’s a lot of super up close time someone will be spending with my face and all its imperfections. Also, I don’t want to look like a harlot, or like someone about to go onstage for a high school play. Fingers crossed!
*Robyn’s husband Brad used to ask random “would you rather” questions, and one that made its way to me was, “If you had to choose, would you rather: have to take a really messy poop minutes before walking down the aisle of your wedding day, or have a very tiny beard for that entire day.” (I think it was a beard, anyway. Maybe it was a mustache?) I’m not worried about spontaneously sprouting copious amounts of facial hair, but now I’m scared that on my wedding day I’m going to have a HORRIFYING BATHROOM EMERGENCY. Yes, that particular combo of words deserves (requires?) all caps. How TERRIBLE would that be?! All of your closest friends and family and a few total randos with their eyes on you, trapped in a claustrophobia-inducing cocoon of white dress and poofy white slip….Agh. Awful. So, you’re all welcome. Now, if you’re at my wedding, you may think of me frantically running to the bathroom in a total panic. And if you’re Robyn, you may have to help me hold up my dress. Just kidding! (OR AM I??)
*If you ARE at my wedding, and this mental image HAPPENS to spring to mind, kindly refrain from mentioning it to either me or other guests….a girl’s gotta stay classy, ya know?