#68.

Running.

It is a gorgeous, fall day outside today! After walking 2 blocks to the grocery store for a last minute dinner item, I decided that I couldn't let the day go by without properly enjoying it. So I got back to my apartment and put on my Asics and left. What made it even better was that I felt good, my feet didn't hurt (I have a plethora of feet issues), and I loved exploring around the neighborhoods.

If you are reading this and haven't just gone for a walk --just to go for a walk, no other alternative purpose-- got put on a light sweater and do it. Grab a friend or a hot coffee or tea and go. Just say yes to the opportunity!

#67.

Elvis Presley.

On vinyl. On my travel mug. On a trash can. Love him. He makes any day better.

I mean, COME ON.  That face! That voice! Mmmmm!

#66.

Ode to Dentists (Not Really).

Two years ago, on my BIRTHDAY, I had 5 doctor appointments in a row....receiving also a total of 5 shots and a diagnosis that resulted in me scheduling wisdom teeth extraction. I recently went to the dentist and was reminded of this poem I wrote....sometimes the little things don't have to be happy *initially* as long as joy comes out of them at some point. This is one of those little things. (Oh, another example is when I cut my hair at 3 am.) Enjoy!

Oh dentist, I hate you.
I really just do.
I hope that it's hard for you to go poo.
You sit me down in a chair
and tell me to relax.
You sound just like a rapist
whose name could be Max.
You give me huge glasses
that make me look like a bug,
I'd rather walk around naked
and wipe my ass on a rug.
And on top of all of this,
you think it's ok
to prod in my mouth
and use words like decay.
If that's not enough,
fluoride varnish is a swear word,
Channing Tatum is a big turd,
And getting my wisdom teeth
out doesn't make me a nerd!

That pretty much sums up my birthday :) I had a hilarious day. (Blaise says he helps with the good lines. But he's still got his wisdom teeth and keeps reminding me of that. Sucker.)

#65.

Bad life decisions…..little ones. Like cutting my hair at 3 am.

So I pay $70 a haircut once a year because I have funky curly hair that sorta does its own thing most of the time. Oh, and I REALLY like to roll out of bed and not do a single thing to my hair so low maintenance works for me.

Atttt the same time, I’m spontaneous and embrace whimsical decisions…thinking that, whatever the risks or consequences are, I can work with them. I’ve cried over many a bad haircut, believe me. So why I decided 2 nights ago to cut my hair at 3 am, knowing that the first day of school was a mere 7 hours away, or I could botch it and I could break down and cry, or make myself look retarded, or think that that double cowlick I had when I had bangs at age 10 would be gone at age 21………it pretty much came down to doing something just because I was saying ‘yes’ to an opportunity.

FIRST RULE OF IMPROV. RIGHT THERE. Just say ‘yes’. Which is contrary to that D.A.R.E. song about just saying no.*

So these are some thoughts I have had living with this choice:

1.      Ok. Bangs are just not sexy. They’re not.

2.      I look 14. But I guess it’s better to look younger than way older? Ha? Maybe?....no? oh.

3.      I have perfected the “oh, shoot, they didn’t recognize me” cover up. Ya know, when you wave at somebody and they A) don’t even see you or the gesture directed at them, B) look away quick because a stranger just acted like they knew them WHAT A WEIRD PERSON ESCAPE FAST being their thought process, or C) they just actually don’t even register you on their familiarity radar. So you have to do a quick recovery action….like pretend you’re tucking some stray hair behind your ear. Or fix your ponytail. Or act like you just meant to dig through your purse. Or maybe there was a bee. Or you just say, “sorry. Touretts.” to anybody in the vicinity that is looking at you funny.

To make myself feel better, I decided to channel Zoey Deschanel’s style and convince myself that her version of cute is mature and doesn’t make her look 14. This is what I think, in my head, that I currently look like:

This is what I would like to look like as the bangs grow out, hopefully bringing sexy back…successfully:

*Clarification: I have never done drugs and really only do crazy, mostly legal spontaneous things. I don’t say “yes” to robbing banks, running over painfully slow old codgers crossing the road, or sex with someone I just met at a bar. To name a few. You get the gist.

Oh, and um, shoutout to Angela for being honest and making me laugh. And to Emily for saying I look like a European model. Love you and cherish you both!

#64.

One Tree Hill.

Marathons of One Tree Hill.

I reached a new level of laziness with my new roommate Annie the last few days. Having my warts treated has immobilized me from doing very much in terms of physical activity or really going anywhere. Soooo….Annie and I embarked on watching this show. We seriously did not move from our spots in the living room for 7 hours 3 days in a row.

If you can’t experience that level of contented laziness at some point in your life, I hope that you are at least doing something relaxing FOR YOUSELF and nobody else. It’s healthy.

That’s my conclusion at the end of this beautiful experience.