hang on, little tomato.

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August 3, 2011 by Heather

Man.  Waking up with a majorly stiff neck is rather unpleasant.  I think it has something to do with the fact that I left my pillow in Little Rock and have been using a decorative throw pillow as my nighttime head bed.  Precious and Handsome Andrew offered his pillow, but it is like a lumpy pile of cotton balls (he likes it), so the throw pillow is it for now.  Nothing a couple of slow neck rolls can’t stretch out.

Yesterday morning I decided to give Mayfield a little trim.  Her hair was getting pretty longish and $40 is just a lot to spend right now on something I figured I could attempt myself.  I put a beach towel down in the bathtub, grabbed the trimmer razor thingy, and snatched up the dog who was already suspicious of something and trying to hide under the coffee table.  Muuahahahaha GOTCHA.

She was, surprisingly, fairly cooperative.  She wouldn’t let me touch her face, legs, or bottom much.  But I was able to take quite a pile of black fuzz off of her back and stomach and head.  And I must say, it doesn’t look that awful!  I mean, I certainly have no future career as a dog groomer, but it did the trick.  I got a little carried away on her belly.  As in, it is pretty much bare.  But I figure it will keep her cool in her undercarriage and no one can see it anyway.  Plus it shows off her cute little teats.

I was covered in black hair by the time it was over.  There was a really funny area of dog fluff stuck to my upper inner thigh that looked super man-like.  So gross.  I wanted to take a picture of it, but like I said, I was covered in hair and the camera was no where near.  Bummer.  It took a while to clean up the mess from my little groom-fest, but oh well.  Then after I wiped up all the hair I had to give her a bath and clean her ears, so it was quite a process.  I figure I saved us a little money, cooled off Miss Mayfield some, and saw what my leg would look like if I were a guy.  Win, win, win.

So, I’ve been back from Ar-kansas for a few days now.  The cooler weather here has made the transition much easier.  Why would it not be easy, you ask?  Well, turns out I miss ol’ AR more than I thought I did.  Who knew.  Maybe it was the people I missed.  I don’t know.  I had a weird feeling in my stomach the majority of the time I was there.  I described it to a couple of people as this:  It was like when you have a new boyfriend who you super duper like and he’s a really good kisser and stuff, but then you run into your old boyfriend who you thought you were over and it’s like, whoa… I thought I was over that but I’m not… crap.  And then you have nervous-weird stomach lurches for the next week.

Also, I hate saying goodbye.  I wouldn’t even let Mom walk me into the airport.  She dropped me off, we hugged, and I walked away as fast as I could and ugly-cried the whole way across the airport terminal until I found the ladies room.  I got some strange looks, I’m sure.  It was not a glistening tear down the cheek, it was like heaving, unrestrained sobs.  Not pretty.  I managed to gather my wits about me, thankfully, and print out my boarding pass at the little kiosk thing while a tiny Asian airport worker lady tried to help me.  I couldn’t understand a word she was saying, and I kept dropping stuff.  I had mascara smeared across my face.  She probably thought I was a total hot mess.  And she’d be right.

Luckily, my first flight was filled with about 50 college girls who were heading home from a sorority conference.  I pretended like they were all my friends and it made me feel better.  I was seated next to two of them on the plane, which basically confirmed our friendship.

Also, why in the heck would anyone refuse the free soda and pretzels on an airplane?  Why?  It makes no sense.  On both of my flights home, I was the only one in my row to say yes to the free treats offered by the smiling stewardess.  Free diet coke and crumbly cookies?  Yes, please, both.

Happy 100th Blog Post to ME.

Me and the man are headed to the library to get wild and crazy.

 

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