Frrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr r r r r r r rrrrrr.
Last week I got to say the words out loud to an actual human being friend, “I dropped the Burberry off at the dry cleaner.” I said those words! And I totally felt like I was in a Seinfeld episode because who even goes to the dry cleaner? No one except the cast of Seinfeld.
I’ve lit-rally only been in a dry cleaner like one other time in my entire life and I cannot remember why. I don’t dry clean anything. If the tag says “dry clean only” – hard pass. To quote the memorable Mitch Hedberg, “This shirt is dry clean only, which means . . . it’s dirty.”
Same, Mitch. Same.
But it’s not just the dry cleaner. It’s having the word BURBERRY in that sentence too. Other level. And then to add to THAT, it was when I said it. I had popped into a favorite French cafe to meet a friend, and as we were sitting down to our tiny table, pulling arms out of our winters coats and draping them over the back of the chairs I said to her, “Sorry I’m a hair late, I had to drop the Burberry off at the dry cleaner.” And we both scrunched up our faces and gut laughed at the lava of pretentiousness that oozed from my face. It was so out of character. And . . . okay, admittedly satisfying to say out loud.
But like, on that. You all know I found a vintage Burberry trench at an estate sale for TEN BUCKS (mainly because I will not let this go), and it smelled like old. But not in a good way. So I took it in to be dry cleaned (what IS dry cleaning anyway? I cannot wrap my head around this.) and now I feel like it smells faaaaaintly like cigarettes. Because the girl who runs the dry cleaner is a heavy smoker. And the whole place sort of smells like ghost cigarettes, ya know? What is dry cleaning supposed to smell like? A spring meadow? The morning dew? A baby’s butt?
Anyway, maybe I’ll Febreeze it and call it a day.
Thanks for being there for me.
I know the world is sick of talking about this, but tell me your Taylor Swift Tickets Horror Stories!
Did you manage to snag them? Did you have a bad blood? I mean code? How long did you wait in the queue? Was your link broken?
It was mayhem, as you all know by now. And I also saw last night that Ticketmaster (which SUCKS) has now cancelled the general public sale due to “insufficient inventory.” Okay what does that even mean? Surely she won’t be playing to half-filled stadiums. I don’t get it. Maybe they need to get their sh*t figured out before opening it again? Tell me what you know.
We had a group of like, seven moms all “verified fans” with our links ready to go to buy six tickets each to cover our big group of 26. So we were already so completely stressed out in a Zoom meeting together, locked and loaded with sweaty brows and sweaty boobs and sweaty pits and sweaty everything. Only to be in a queue that was “temporarily paused” for hours. HOURS. We went about our days, taking shifts staring at our screens while juggling Chat ‘n Chew and pickups and blah blah blahs. Then right around 4:40pm we were in. IN. And at the same time!! THE SAME TIME. And unbelievably, we somehow only had mild-ish panic attacks and bought two rows (in a semi-crappy section, but one that fits our budget) and we got all 26 tickets. All of them!!!
I died. I cried. I screamed over and over and jumped around the living room for hours and slept so well that night. The end.
Tell me your story or nightmare or heroic tale.
Have you heard of this? I discovered it on Pinterest last week like a hippie turd. It was a really pretty illustration that won me over, obviously. But I made a version of it on Monday and we’ve been taking little sips (a tsp for the kids, Tbs. for the adults) every morning and I love it! It’s like, a super pungent ultra-medicinal natural potion to stave off sickness. (I call it potion so my Harry Potter-loving children will take it.) I will say, it’s getting more and more intense, the longer it sits. But get this, it’ll last for like, ten months in your fridge. Is that not insane and gross but cool and wild? Ohhh the powers of apple cider vinegar.
Also, we all got Covid boosters and flu shots on Wednesday, and my arm is STILL red. Is that normal? It’s been less than 48 hours, so I think it is. Is it?
Is my arm going to rot and fall off later today?
Tell me what you put in your Fire Cider and if you enjoy saying Fire Cider like R.E.M.
Halfway through The House Across the Lake and I LOVE it. It is so, so Rear Window and I could not be more obsessed.
Where IS Katherine?
I’m finishing this weekend and will let you know! (not where she is. what I thought of it. never mind.)
I’m helping out at school today for the Thanksgiving Belinder Families lunch. (don’t ask me if I thought “families” meant actual parents and if I thought I was being asked to take mashed potatoes to school. oh no, it’s SCHOOL families. within in the school. okay, cool.) Moms night tonight, a fun French brunch tomorrow, and a Girl Scouts event on Sunday! Actually, while I have you, if you live in the KC area, come by Windsor Park (in Prairie Village) on Sunday from 1-4pm, as we’ll be selling hot apple cider and homemade dog treats. It’s all tied to Harvesters in some way but I can’t remember because I’m still embarrassed that I thought I was supposed to bring mashed potatoes to school.
Like I truly thought I was being asked to bring mashed potatoes to school, you guys. Help.