Don't Stand so, Don't stand so close to me.....

So, we have this woman at work. You know the type? Beautiful, smart and then, the other day I learned something about her that just takes the cake. Apparently, she can dance, too. I have been rounding up my co-worker posse to go back to bellydancing classes. I told "L" about it. (yeah, she is so cool she just has an initial.) She told me how she used to do bellydancing, tap dancing, African dance, etc.

I gulped.


I sighed.


I shifted about uncomfortably on my two uncoordinated feet. I only have this to say:


Please, please, please, L, if you join us for bellydancing at Aalim, PLEASE don't stand next to me!! For not only are you stunningly beautiful, but you actually KNOW how to dance! I fear that the drastic contrast of our respective dance abilities will be made glaringly obvious to all observers.

Additionally, it is possible that, were one to partake of your amazing gyrational talents and then be subjected to my uncoordinated procedure they could be compelled to summon Emergency Medical Professionals for fear that I might be currently suffering from a seizure.

Please, L, don't let it be like 4th Grade all over again when my Dorothy Hamill haircut grew out into a shaggy bob and my two front teeth grew into a mouth not quite big enough for them. If you add in the peasant shirt my mom made me wear for picture day and you could say that the theme of my 4th Grade Year was something along the lines of "Cyndi Gets Chased Around the Playground By Kids Who Have Better Teeth and Hair".


So, can we just agree on this right here, right now, L? Can we?


Please, L,.....I'm beggin' ya!

Why You Should NOT do drugs...

I wrote something awhile ago that was a two paragrah rant about my hair. It was fine as it was written. THEN I took an Ambien, which take forever to work for me. Two hours later I was getting sleepy and decided to stumble my way down the hall, crashing into doorways in the process and write a blog entry.


Sounds like a dandy idea, no?


Here is what it was supposed to look like:


My hair behaves as if it is having a perpetual temper tantrum. The worst part is that I sense a definite passive-aggressive quality to it. If I try to encourage the curl I get these freaky (AND FRIZZY) straight parts.

BUT-if I try to straighten my hair, these waves and curls come popping through like weeds in an otherwise passable garden.


Is that hostility or passive-aggression?
GREAT, now my hair has me questioning my knowledge of psychology, too.

So much for crowning glory, huh?




Much better than the Ambien-induced drivel you can read below:

(And, no, for the record, I have no idea how one little Ambien turned me into a drunken Irish pirate with a lisp.)