Luckily for me, last night was filled with actual sleep instead of what has been happening on most nights these days—a curious case of insomnia and some middle-of-the-night Real Housewives of somewhere marathons. Hours and hours and hours of yelling and bad plastic surgery and oversized nudey pregnancy portraits instead of sleep, or, you know, using the super quiet time to do something useful, like working or watching this week’s Mad Men for a fourth time and feeling sad that there are people out there who don’t watch the show purposely or who I have recommended it to and they don’t love it (one of life’s greatest mysteries) or finding a contractor to turn my dark brown kitchen cabinets white or like going through Emily’s clothes and start packing her for camp. In July. Oh my god, you guys, my baby is going to sleepover camp for the very first time and I think I am more excited than she is.

You’d have thought that last night, after coming off of a sweet, sweet Spurs (GO SPURS!) victory, and three disturbing articles read back-to-back-to-back—from the man eating another man’s face off to some random body parts being sent through Canada Post like some sort of ridiculous episode of Dexter to Matthew Fox being outed as a woman beater and even though I laughed at the commenter who put the words WOMAN BEATER on Charlie’s hands instead of NOT PENNY’S BOAT, the situation is actually really sad and gross—that last night would have been an insomnia night, but alas, no. Slept like a baby. But the good kind that sleeps through the night, not the kind that’s up every two hours looking to be fed and snuggled.

So, I came back from my trip a vegetarian. It wasn’t on purpose, really, I just think my body involuntarily decided to just quietly give up meat to get rid of the ick factor and I have been going along for the ride because my body has never felt better and my anxiety is at an almost nothing level, which still continues to blow my mind. I never realized how much of my anxiety revolved around avoiding food-borne illnesses. Now if I could just figure out how to rid the world of sponges. *SHUDDER* So, I’m not making any sort of I DON’T EAT MEAT declarations, but I don’t eat meat right now. Thankfully, I am already a quinoa addict.

No really, I love quinoa almost as much as I love those cotton commercials, which is to say, unreasonably a lot.

Cotton…the fabric of our lives…

There is nothing unperfect about this.

Who wants to photoshop me in there?

Jesus, I want to be able to pull off bangs like that. It would mean, of course, that I could avoid wanting forehead botox, but it’s also so damn cute I can barely take it. But, the last time I experimented with a blunt, fringe bang I did it myself and the response was less than overwhelming. “You look, well, kind of like an Eskimo. I wonder how long it’ll take you to grow them out. The last time bangs looked cute on you, um, you were about six.”

She does not lie. 

This is cute:

This is not:

Oh, hello, 1994, I do not miss your fashions.

(But I do miss those three lovely ladies in that shot. I know some people look back on high school and wish they had did things differently; wish they were cooler, smarter, funnier, sportier, nerdier, nicer, meaner, thinner, fatter, anything different. But, you guys. I loved high school. Again, not the fashions so much. But I have so few regrets—other than the fact that I don’t see those three ladies every day anymore.)

But, I do want to do something to my hair this summer, and since a cut will not ever happen again because I am still upset about the butchering I had done on a whim back in October. That’s, like, 7 months ago. And it’s still not back to normal. So, yes, I am never cutting it ever again. I will be embracing my inner Sister Wife with pride. I should probably learn to how braid better and where I can find those cute dresses. So, I’m thinking COLOR! Yes. I kind of, sort of really miss being blonde. And once upon a time I was a redhead. It was done at home, as an experiment and the first few times it came out a little on the, erm, purple side. And the second few times it came out a little on the over-orange side. But, let’s just say I can leave it in the hands of the professionals.

Red? Blonde?

Blonde? Red?

You decide!

Want more me????

I’m talking about Mad Men Season 5, Episode 11 over at Curvy Girl Guide.

I’m talking about possible new glasses at Yummy Mummy Club.

I’m talking about my 14 favorite scenes from The Wire and what is quite possibly the oddest casting choice for JFK and Jackie-O on Mamapop.