1. It’s Random Thursday 33! Whaaat?
I have a theory. I think that 33 is the number of Randoms with no subtitle. I think that when they have a random subtitle they get classified differently.
I had a subtitle in mind. I started typing it in but then I thought up my theory and had to test it. It wasn’t exactly a double-blind experiment, but for the purposes of this particular theory, I believe that’s okay.
In answer to your question, no. I no longer have any idea what that subtitle might have been.
2. In my wee little brain, there are rattling around numerous unfinished posts. Some of those I need to hold onto, but others are best used here, where they will (at least) get some oxygen, and (at most) entertain you. One of those posts bears the following title:
BLAME IT ON DOWNTON ABBEY
and goes on to detail (although the details are murky, hence the ‘unfinished’) the epidemic use of the word “very.” In my head, this post tells about how every time I read that someone is “so very glad” or “so very sad” or “so very fill-in-the-blank” my reading voice switches immediately to that of Lady Mary.
And I giggle.
3. One of the greatest problems the military wife will ever face is finding a new hairdresser.
Yeah yeah, our husbands deploy. That’s hard and all. But they are still our husband while they’re gone. Our hairdressers, on the other hand, cease being our hairdressers when we relocate.
Oh. My. Heart.
(OMM, puh-lease don’t report me to one of those hateful military spouse-haters Facebook pages. It’s satire, people. Geez.)
But seriously. Hairdresser/hairdresee relationships are not a dime a dozen. They don’t manifest themselves out of the clear flipping blue like…like teenage love in the months leading up to prom. They are rare and magical happenings the likes of which Nicholas Sparks can only dream. They are hard won, and forged in the fire of absolute dependence.
When one must leave her beloved to brave a new path, heart broken and mane amok, she will survey the bleak landscape with nary a hope that there might be another spirit akin to the one from which she has been torn. It can takes weeks, nay, months, to secure a new and satisfactory union.
It is, dare I say, so very trying.
4. I had planned to write this earlier today. Not early, earlier. (Duh)
(Aside) I could write a hundred thousand unique posts on my epic and daily battles with early.
Before I could write, some things had to happen.
5. And then it was time for the girlie rigamarole so that I could go do this:
(Aside) I could write one single post on how I resent the time that must be spent on the girlie rigamarole.
This. This is what my heart needed today. A trusted friend from days gone by (Germany 2004) and her precious little tutu girl. When she crawled up on my lap (the tutu girl, not the friend), I understood what happened to the Grinch’s heart. Mine was simultaneously two sizes larger and ten pounds lighter.
This. This is grace.
Happy Birthday Month, Lyndi Sue!
6. See #5 and then see # 3.
I am now in my tenth month of Colorado residency. TEN. MONTHS. I have spent ten long months looking for love in all the wrong places, looking for love in too many..hairdressers. My last cut, which took place just days before Thanksgiving, was in South Dakota. It was a good haircut, too. The best I’d had in all the time I’ve been wandering aimlessly through this desert. The one before that had me seriously considering homicide. It was that bad. Now I’m too afraid to get back up on the ol’ horse, so to speak.
Pray for me.
7. When all the boys were home for Christmas, I took my new lens out to photograph a basketball game. I got down in the grass and tried (and tried) to frame the game with the yard flag bearing a red and green wreath surrounding the first letter of the family name. Because how cool would that be? I sat there, and then lay there, in the dead, scratchy grass for forever, trying to get a shot with all four males, the basketball, some action, and the dang yard flag.
I was about to keel over with despair when somebody sensed my pain and wandered over to help me out. My favorite child plopped down right in front of my camera lens, and proceeded to give me her best poses.