FfFfFrRrRiIiIdDdDaAaAyYyY. (that was hard.)
I drank dish water and found raw chicken left in the car overnight, HOW HAS YOUR WEEK BEEN?
Really. I found my coffee cup in the sink (“Wait, did I put this here? I must have.), picked it up and took a big gulp. (“Why is this is so watery and thin? It doesn’t even taste like coffee. Oh no is this Covid?”) Took another gulp because apparently it wasn’t enough for me the first go around. (“What is IN this coffee cu- Nat’s bug jar lid! No! NOOOO!”) Spit it out, addressed the dim light bulb in my head and walked over to the microwave. Opened it and found today’s cup of coffee, now lukewarm because I heat it and leave it in the microwave for 45 hours. ALL THE TIME. THIS HAPPENS ALL.THE.TIME.
The microwave part. Not the bug jar dish water part.
Oh, the raw chicken, you ask? Yeaaaaah that was a good time. Apparently when I drove home from the store earlier this week, my chicken bag full of thighs, breasts and tenders slid out of the other bigger bag and all the way up to the middle of the car between the two seats and under two giant pool floaties. I never even saw the escape. Never even had a chance.
Until the next day when it was time to shoot my recipe involving chicken (“Where is that giant chicken bag? I had a giant chicken bag! Did I freeze them? Oh no is this Covid?”) Then I addressed the dim light bulb in my head, grabbed my car keys and uttered a few choice words as I walked back out to the car, realizing I have no solid memory of actually putting the chicken in the fridge because I was too busy maniacally wiping everything down with disinfectant wipes because the cashier looked odd and said she didn’t feel right. YOU DON’T FEEL RIGHT? “Well, I just didn’t get any sleep,” she said.
I almost asked to see a manager so that they could check her temp but I am way too young to Karen out like that. Plus, I just don’t have the right hair.
Yep, giant bag of rotting chicken in my steaming hot mid-July Odyssey.
I’ll recover by next summer.
Hey, I need your help!
You’re like, “I felt it coming.”
How do you get day five hair on day one?
Let me back up. I know most of you know this, but I wash my hair every Monday. Once a week, you read that right. My hair is on the (very) dry side, so even after a full seven days, it’s not greasy at the roots, only crimped in odd places due to persistant mid-summer top knotting.
Thing is, I’ve got a lot of volume. Which I only appreciate when I curl it out all late ’80s Meg Ryan. (it’s darn cute if I say so myself.) But the rest of the time, when I want a beachier, more relaxed look, I need it to be LESS PUFF all around. I look like I’m running for small town office, you guys. Vote for me!
My question is, is there a magical product that calms down freshly-washed wispy cotton ball hair and gives it texture, grit and sleekness? I know there is. And I know you know what it is.
I have that Kristin Mathis texture spray and I don’t really like it.
Mathis…that’s not right. Mannis? Moogis? Meepers? Hold on.
Ess! Kristin Ess!
Yeah, I don’t like it.
I feel like it just puffs it up and dries it out even more.
I need the complete opposite. Tone, texture, sleekness, grit, less volume.
And please don’t be mad because in the next section I ask for something else that I could honestly just Google, but you know who and how I am.
Ready?
I’m really into the idea of an old fashioned but tasteful brass door bell. (why yes, another project, it’s fine.)
Do any of you have one? To be fair, I have Googled this, and I’ve not seen anything that screams (chimes?) at me.
I’ll keep looking, never mind.
Carry on.
On Monday, he ate through one apple.
Wait, that’s something else.
On Monday, I posted a photo to Instagram about my love for Mondays (it’s true), and apparently it spawned a small handful of you into curiosity about my weekly schedule. More specifically, through the years I get asked quite often, “How do you have time to read so much? When do you run and how often and how long? How do you work the twins around? Why did you stop posting mask night?”)
Guys this is why I only wash my hair once a week.
BUT – it clicked that maybe I could publish a “weekly rhythm” type of post, at the risk of sounding moon-beam-burn-your-bras-dream-catcher-y.
Is that something you’d be interested in? What our weeks look like? Day by day, how I chunk it up (ew), when we clean, when I read (during previous allotted mask night programming), when we work, when we play (“Excuse me, Captain, when do they play?” – name that movie.)
Y’awnt that?
Weekend plans?
I feel like I’ve asked you more than the appropriate amount of questions this week.
I just started The Family Upstairs, so that’ll be my weekend read. I like it so far! AAAAAAND we finally watched Hamilton. BLOWN. AWAY. Absolute perfection. I talk more about it in Stories, if you’re into that. I will say, I need more of adorable-faced King George and that psychotic spittle-slash-wild eyes action. Oh you know you agree.
From this week, in case you meeeeezed it: Bruschetta Shrimp Risotto for the ultimate summer supper, and another creamy winner with Pesto Turkey Meatballs and Pasta in a Creamy Basil Sauce. Both super summery, with an added layer of luxury. Get in that. Those. Both.
Tell me what music you’re listening to today.
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