Thursday, November 09, 2006
Pluck Wax Bleach Inject Paint Shave Curl Dress Gloss
No wonder I am so tired. No wonder I can be such a bitch. It takes an inordinate amount of energy, time and money to be a Siren (not to mention some discomfort). Thursday night happy hour, the obligatory night out for the single woman. All I want to do I get in my jams and and give in to delicious goose down torpor. But, alas, I cannot. Thursday night happy hour is a fishing hole and the aforementioned activities are how I bait my hook. I am debating going out with the "come as you are" type attitude, but I know better. A good fisherman buys the best lures, knows the best spots and knows how to cast his line in order to get the best results. The rest is patience, of which I have none (as those of you who know me are painfully aware!) Off I go to perform the Ritual of the Siren.....I shall cast my line tonight, and pass the time drinking with (and drinking in, Meow!) Mr. Fantastic telling stories about the really big one that got away. (Of course I will throw the little ones back!) Hope I get a bite!