1) I cannot poach an egg to save my goddamn life. Yes, I've tried the myriad methods detailed that all promise to lead to poaching perfection, and no, none of them work for me. I'll just let Echo poach my eggs for me, thanks.
2) My parallel parking skills still, to describe them flatteringly, suck. I managed to block Ormond for a good three minutes attempting to fit Small Car into Medium Space yesterday, and just gave up and drove away when the elderly woman in the VW started to make angry eyes and shake her fist at me.
3) I went to get a haircut on Friday, and it ended up looking less like Louise Brooks
than it did Joan of Arc.
I know it's going to grow out soon enough, but for fuck's sake, how much more descriptive than "blunt cut side-parted bob hitting 1" below my ears with thick blunt bangs" can one possibly get? I mean, it's not like I walked in and said "I'd like to look like Marcel Marceau's kitchen, but with brown hair" or something equally opaque.
4) I got lost for 45 minutes on Friday while trying to find my way from the hair salon to the cobbler, which always makes me edgy and annoyed, which necessitated a stop at Target for an emergency Choxie bar, which might be a contributing factor to the snugness of my small-size jeans.