OK, firstly, I've got a plant blooming in my bathroom.
It's December and my addled plant, which I drag in every winter so it doesn't die, is sprouting flowers. What's more, the flowers smell and the odor is quite potent. Not potent in a bad way, mind, just strong--like honeysuckle.
Here's the thing: the fact that it smells like honeysuckle in my bathroom means it smells like April in there. And I don't want it to smell like April, I want it to smell like the holidays. Give me cinnamon and cloves! Give me oranges! Give me evergreen! Do not offer up some floral nonsense. It's disconcerting when I'm bathing. How's a girl supposed to relax?
In continuation with my whole The-plants-Are-Feeling-Amorous-Therefore-Are-Out-To-Get-Me theme....
Say You: The plant is out to get you because it's blooming?
Say me: Clearly.
Anyway....this guy?
He also lives in my bathroom. I discovered last night that the bastard and his posse are staging a full-on invasion:
Say you: All I see in the reflection is a blue towel that is folded different from all the others...
Say me: OK, disregard my towels* and look closer:
Do you see that? He's literally growing across my bathroom wall. If I hadn't caught this, in another month's time he would have connected with the little trollop that lives across the room (also seen in the mirror), they would have gotten naughty and soon enough there would be the birth of a swamp monster via my shower head:
Thank God I now have that plant's number and I can let it know who's boss. Many thanks to Fiskars scissors, who made my bad-ass dominance a possibility.
Lastly, I'm so done with glitter (after I finish this current series of ornaments) it's not even funny.
It's OVER.
We're getting divorced.
I mean it.
Really.
Just look at what it did to my Otter box:
All I did was drop my phone on a Christmas ornament that was in the drying process. Now I'm forced to walk around withunwanted unsolicited bling.
Let me tell you something: Elmer's glue? It works. ->
Song of the week:
*For the record, I did not fold that towel. I blame The Geek.
It's December and my addled plant, which I drag in every winter so it doesn't die, is sprouting flowers. What's more, the flowers smell and the odor is quite potent. Not potent in a bad way, mind, just strong--like honeysuckle.
Here's the thing: the fact that it smells like honeysuckle in my bathroom means it smells like April in there. And I don't want it to smell like April, I want it to smell like the holidays. Give me cinnamon and cloves! Give me oranges! Give me evergreen! Do not offer up some floral nonsense. It's disconcerting when I'm bathing. How's a girl supposed to relax?
In continuation with my whole The-plants-Are-Feeling-Amorous-Therefore-Are-Out-To-Get-Me theme....
Say You: The plant is out to get you because it's blooming?
Say me: Clearly.
Anyway....this guy?
 |
| Ignore the shadows that scream "amateur photographer!" |
Say you: All I see in the reflection is a blue towel that is folded different from all the others...
Say me: OK, disregard my towels* and look closer:
 |
| Seriously. Ignore the shadows. |
 |
| This is totally the swap monster I prevented from being born. Not a museum relic. |
Lastly, I'm so done with glitter (after I finish this current series of ornaments) it's not even funny.
It's OVER.
We're getting divorced.
I mean it.
Really.
Just look at what it did to my Otter box:
All I did was drop my phone on a Christmas ornament that was in the drying process. Now I'm forced to walk around with
Let me tell you something: Elmer's glue? It works. ->
Song of the week:
*For the record, I did not fold that towel. I blame The Geek.
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