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{Tuesday, August 15, 2006}

Today a giving and saintly friend came over to help me organize my life (we discussed throwing a match to the whole mess more than once). In other saintly undertakings, she also went with the girls and I to w*lmart, sea of the plebs, and Lowe's. W*lmart was horrific, as usual, but brief in that we picked up our items while the vision girlie measured the girl's heads and questioned them with regards to their name, rank and street address.

Lowe's was a sad affair. No kitchen handle selection to speak of, no underbed storage that I'd love to have for the girls' room, no cute trashcans (that might deter Shug Avery). The only bright spot was the purchase of paint for the cabinets and the realization that 'colorwashing' might be something we could do to the kitchen walls to make them more interesting. And tolerable to my husband.

And then, and then, we poured out the contents of six drawers and a shelf in the bathroom closet onto the dining room table. It was horrific. About two hours later, I scraped the remainder of items still left on the table into the trash can (not that hundreds of items hadn't already been filed there during the most heated moments). The kids were actually a help - though they were most interested in Jane and what she might do or say next. She ended the day with her hair in pig tails held up with leopard-print scrunchies, a pick in the back of her head, glitter lotion on her arms and numerous bracelets. She tried to put in some earrings but her ears weren't having it.

To finish off the day in the same fashion, the girls and I just picked up the rest of their room (they were assigned to clean it up yesterday because the floor was unable to be seen). We filled a trashbag. Man, the exhilaration!
posted by Lisa 11:08 PM

{Monday, August 14, 2006}

Full-Time Blogging

Since I've been reading the Dooce archives from the beginning (already being fairly hip and knowing the term Dooced and also having read "Have You Reconvened Your Procedure") for the past three days, I'm blogging in my own head practically all of the time. I'm just full of it over here, but it seems to be a long way from random blogging in my head to sitting here typing it (when, hell, I could be reading Dooce).

So today, sensing that I was much more free than I thought I would be, I (naturally) made my way to a thrift store. In about 10% of my thrifting experiences, there is some random person in my section who tries to strike up a conversation with me. I give every clue that I do not want to chit-chat with them, but often they don't get it until I flat-out walk away. Today was the more subtle variety of would-be chatter. The talk-to-selfer. Such a person will stand nearby you and talk aloud, and rhetorically, hoping that you'll be unable to resist breaking in and commenting. Today's chatter got the hint in, oh, fifteen minutes. Not too bad.

So, random person trying to find a stranger to chat with - take note. When you've got a mark in your sights and they are moving away from you and clearly placing their back to you - it means they aren't so interested. Maybe they're enjoying being alone, maybe they don't like your hair color or maybe they're just me. And I don't talk to strangers. Except when I do.
posted by Lisa 11:14 PM