It's a nine.

1.  There's a church near my house that had it's magnetic letter sign broken into over the weekend.  Originally it read:  Welcome Children First Montessori.  After the break-in:  Fist Children.  I don't condone vandalism, and I'm definitely not into violating children, but I appreciate dark, subversive humor. And anagrams   Several years ago, a different church sign was changed to read:  I eat vag queefs.  I can't imagine what the original one said, but my apologies for laughing.

2.  I went back to Monday night Zumba for the first time in a month last night.  It was actually awesome.  I felt like I was able to get the moves, make it pay.  And it was nice to see everyone.  Even the woman who, since the last time I went to Zumba gave birth, and has RETURNED to class.  This was her second week back after having a baby over Memorial Day.  Wow.  Just, wow.

3.  I want this blouse that's at Kohl's.  I bought a different blouse thinking it would be as good, but it isn't.  I want the blouse I found originally.  I may go ahead and pull the trigger.  They're both legit, and I can use either.  I hate wanting things.  I hate it a lot.  I wish I was happy with everything I have.  But as clothes go, I'm starting to grow out of most of my stuff.  My exercise pants last night were threatening to fall down, but the drawstring on them went missing ages ago.  So they may become dust rags, or in-house clothing only.

4.  There's a group of bagpipers who practice in the parking lot of a church on Monday nights, and I always pass them en route to Zumba.  Apparently, they play more than just Amazing Grace.  Also, did you know that the German word for bagpipes is Dudelsack?  Indeed.

5.  I'm starting to prep for 4th of July, and I'm stoked.  I am taking Friday off, ergo, I'm even stokeder.

6. I may have only a small loss this week, but given the Indian food Saturday, and my gustatorial debauchery on Thursday, I'll take what I can get.  I still did better than I would have a year ago.  That's a fact, Jack.

7.  I am loving my cute short hair.  Even though I've been having to put Vaseline on my sutures (and by the way, still no word on the pathology of that damn fatty-cysty-lumpy thing), making the hair on that side a little oily.  One of my good friends today commented with delight that it has "so much volume".  That it does.  Much like when it was longer, I find I can still go to bed with it damp and wake up with huge, glorious curly locks.  And, oh, man - am I going gray!!

8.  We have customers in house tomorrow, which means I have to wear makeup and behave.  I don't object to either, but I don't want to make a habit of them.

9.  Why do (some) mother-bloggers feel the need to give me the deets on everything pee/poop related to their kids?  I don't care that Cindy Lou pissed the bed, and as you know, nothing ever dies on the internet.  She's not going to get into a good college now.  Hope you're happy.


Did you hear about the folks in Canada who reprogrammed a roadside sign to warn driver about a zombie apocalypse? That's my kind of vandalism.