ibeachalot's Diaryland Diary ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- When Hairy met ... Tim Yes, you're getting two entries from me today. If I don't sit down and type something, I might feel inclined to actually do something productive. I'm so excited! I was driving down hwy. K today and saw a "coming soon" sign... "Crazy Bowls and Wraps" Yesssss!!! I actually screamed when I saw it. People in the lane next to me thought I'd lost my mind. I've been waiting for years for a Crazy Bowls to be built in this stupid county. I can't wait to tell Kevin! Enter: The Terrible Twos. Griffin has recently acquired an abundance of it. I never thought a kid who can't talk yet could backtalk, but mark my words, he can. He's heavily into tantrums, hitting, taking things that don't belong to him and dicking with anything and everything electronic in this house. I had to lock the VCR and DVD player away in a cabinet so keep his curious little fingies away from the buttons. I have a Tupperware lid taped over the controls on my TV to keep him from standing there all day turning the damn thing on and off and on and off and on and off... I think Griffin has elected to grunt his way through life. It appears he has no intention of ever learning to talk. And why should he? Hitting mom upside the head and uttering, "GRNNNDANNAGHH!" works ever so effectively. Switching gears a bit. I hate shaving my legs. I know I've mentioned that many times in this diary. I would rather endure child birth unmedicated than to have to shave my legs. I don't know why this is. Once I get going, it isn't too bad, it's just the thought of having to shave as often as I do that makes me dread breaking out the razor. Maybe it's because it has such short lasting effects. At least when I clean the house, I have... oh, 38 seconds or so of satisfaction to enjoy the fruits of my labor before it all gets undone again. With shaving my legs, I can literally hear the stubble popping through my leg skin before I've even put the shaving cream away. Yes, I've tried hair removers. They literally tore the skin right off my leg. I still have scars from The Tragic Nair Incident of 1998. Today, I opted to not shave my legs... and go out in public. What's the worst that can happen? That I might run into an old boyfriend? What's the worst, you ask? I'll tell ya. I could, and did, run into an old boyfriend. I was at Target for a few things. I came around a corner and saw him. I immediately remembered my legs and tried to act as though I didn't see him. Too late. He saw me. "Oh my god!! Linda C_______ ?" (Insert my maiden name here) "Oh, hi!! How are you?(pleasedon'tlookatmylegs)" I said. "Great! You look wonderful!" he said. (They say the eyes are the first to go and here's your proof.) "You too! I love the beard! (pleasedon'tlookatmylegs)" I said. "What have you been up to all these years?" he said. "Oh not much ~ raising kids, mostly (and not shaving my legs)! (pleasedon'tlookatmylegs)" I said. "Yeah, I have a couple of my own. Are your others as cute as this one (motions to Griffin)?" he said. "I think they are! I have pictures, if you want to see them! (pleasedon'tlookatmylegs)" I said. ... and so the conversation went. He stood there looking absolutely gorgeous and I stood there 50 pounds heavier than the last time he saw me, with my greying hair up in a butterfly clip, no make~up and the hairiest legs this side of Italy. I may never leave the house again. 2:11 p.m. - 2003-06-05 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
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