Hey guys, sorry I didn’t post yesterday (FALSE! I’m totally not! I haven’t skipped a weekday since Francesca left to “Bavaria” or wherever and it was AWE.SOME.) but the stress of the World Cup has just been killing me. I had a headache all day after Lando’s epic goal because my whatever levels got all wonkety, spiked and crashed.
Then there’s the post-work wrap up I have with my gentleman caller who is WAY more obsessed with soccer than I am because he played for Atalanta B.C. for seven years and gets too excited and ends up talking to me in a mixture of English, Italian, French and possibly German, and I’m pretty okay with all of those individually –except for German– but when they’re all blended together and pushed across the voicebox of an overexcited ex-soccer player? I’m screwed.
SPEAKING of screwed. WHY DO YOU DO THIS TO ME, JEROME C. ROUSSEAU?
You KNOW how I feel about green shoes. There are on the list of Top Five Things I’ll Ever Really Love, right there between Henry Rollins’ back and Jesus.
But you ALSO know how I feel about glitter in my house. Because glitter, much like children and the herp, does not go away. I refuse –again like children and the herp– to have it in my house, sullying my white furniture and insinuating itself into my nooks and crannies.
That being said, if you’re NOT strictly anti-glitter (and maybe it’s laminated? maybe?) these are on pretty spectacular sale at Saks.