A peek into my rock star life...
The Girl went to a birthday party with a henna artist.
She chose the most masculine design offered. What the...?
There was no swaying her decision.
Girl goes to the beat of her own drum, I tell ya, and she keeps me guessing.
There are nights when The Offspring skip a bath because I am just too tired to clean up the trail of destruction that is left in their wake.
They must have some disorder that prevents them from picking up their clothes, underwear, shoes, socks, and wet towels from the bathroom floor.
Yes, I know. They should pick it up.
They do. But their version of picked up and my version of picked up are very different.
And for the record, I've grown weary of sharing the bathtub with Hulk.
Thank you, Lord, that ketchup is vegan.
I had a panic attack of sorts. Or at least that's what I think it was.
I was sitting on the couch, folding some clothes and watching Forrest Gump on television, when suddenly I had the overwhelming feeling that something bad was going to happen. I couldn't shake it. It just got stronger and stronger.
The Mr. returned from band practice only to find his usually stoic wife having some sort of hyperventilating meltdown...because Forrest and Jenny finally got married...and Captain Dan got new legs...and then Jenny died!
Really. It wasn't the movie.
I don't know what triggered it.
All I know is that Valium can be a wonderful thing.
The iPad is not helping my cause when it comes to getting to bed earlier.
I started another project.
At least I thought about starting another project. What you see here is about as far as I got.
I really should finish that damn afghan. And the lightweight sweater. And the wrap. And the summer tank top that remains in pieces.
Should finish.
If cleaning up after The Offspring weren't enough fun, the kitties are adding even more frivolity to the mix.
They have knocked over three of my plants and are eating a fourth.
Good thing they're cute.
Why can't you eat oatmeal with chopsticks?
The Mr. has grown a beard.
I have always told him that if he grew a beard he would be sleeping on the couch.
Last week I changed my mind.
Maybe I've been looking at too many cute and bearded indie rockers.
I must say: He sports it well.
I've found myself glued to the television the past few days.
The devastation in Japan leaves me speechless.
I cannot imagine.
This hits home for us. I've never been to Japan, but The Mr. goes almost every year. He has seen the before pictures in person.
I'm in awe of nature's power.
On a happier note...
The Mr. surprised me with Spurs tickets.
Then he gave me an even bigger surprise.
Check out that ticket.
Row 1, baby. Just off the court.
I could hear Manu arguing a call with a ref!
The Mr. is awesomeness.
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And that's just one week.
I'm livin' large over here in H-town, yo.
What was your week like?
Show off your rock star life and link up over at Kimberly's place.
It's what all the Blog Land ballers are doing.
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