1) Every time I go to get my hair cut I suddenly have to poop. I don't know what it is, maybe waiting to get my hair cut is somehow a laxative. Seriously, I'll be sitting in a chair, waiting for my barber to finish up with the guy he is with, minding my own business reading the newspaper or a magazine and all of a sudden I have to poop. And it isn't a slight "i need to poop" but a full blown "man, I really need to poop". The guy must think I'm a fastidious launderer because I always announce that I need to go check on my laundry about five minutes into being there. I think he might be on to me though because he always has a knowing look in his eye when I come back 5 minutes later with a Starbucks donut.
2) I bought a hilarious turquoise 80's Yves Saint Laurent sweater (think the cosby show)at Value Village last week for $7. It was pretty much the find of the century. That is, until I ruined it just now. I was pretty sure it was acrylic, but I didn't bother reading the care tag before washing it. Turns out it was wool. Oops. Now the laundromat garbage can is the temporary home to shrunken 1980's men's designer fashion.
3 comments:
Did your penis fall off or something? Talking about your trip to the salon and the fabulous sweater you bought?
You're bigger girl than Nick, and he loves ice dancing.
It isn't a salon, it is a barbershop. The place is maybe 150 square feet. If I went to a salon, and not an old fashioned italian style barbershop I wouldn't have to go to starbucks to take a crap, I could get a therapeutic enema while waiting.
The magazine rack t this place houses newspapers and men's magazines, and by men's magazines I don't mean GQ or Details, I mean vintage Playboys.
The sweater I bought wasn't fabulous, it was hideous, and that is why I bought it for $7, not $700. And if I was such a girl I'd be able to do laundry without shrinking every bit of wool i own.
You can't tell the difference between wool and plastic?
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