Step 1: Attempt to park your car.
Step 2: Bash the ever-loving shit out of the Metalia family’s shiny new car in the process, such that the bumper is now concave. Look around to make sure that they are nowhere nearby.
Step 3: (And this is important…) Under NO CIRCUMSTANCES are you to leave a note with any contact information.
Step 4: Flee like the ass that you are.
Yay! Extensive auto body damage! Fun times for all!
Our car is paying a visit to Eddie the mechanic in the morning, which should be a joyous and not-at-all-expensive event. His estimate on the damage will determine whether my haircut tomorrow afternoon (more on that in a minute) will be carried out by my usual stylist…or the 497-year-old eyepatch-wearing barber in the subway station who cuts hair for $10. Actually, I’m not even sure that he’s a real barber. He might just be a crazy, scissors-wielding old man who hangs out in the subway. I just don’t know. The point is…people are sometimes jerks, and this is what it leads to: Potential car repair-induced poverty resulting in major hair trauma at the hands of a weird old guy who may or may not be an actual $10 barber. And it breaks my hea-a-a-a-a-a-aart (Regina Spektor style).
Speaking of which…(segue alert!), we saw The Break Up this weekend. Um…what the hell? Did anyone else see this? Honest to God, the movie was bipolar. I felt as if the director couldn’t decide if the movie should be a comedy or a drama, and just shrugged and made a comedy/drama…a comma, if you will. It was mildly redeemed by Jennifer Aniston’s movie brother, as well as her wardrobe (which I covet in this movie and in her real life, as well).
On to cheerier things:
I am totally getting bangs again, thanks to your input. Seriously, you guys are the best.
Lately, people cannot stop complimenting me on my glowing skin.
Well, that’s not exactly true.
What I mean to say is that I ran into someone I tangentially know, and she said I looked all glowy, while eyeing my midsection suspiciously.
And then I punched her in the neck.
(I kid! I kid!)
In addition to her, however, exactly two people that I don’t want to punch in the neck had recently asked me what makeup I’ve been using to achieve said glow. And, as I told them, it's not makeup; my secret is this stuff: Boots No. 7 Radiant Glow Lotion.
On a Target jaunt a while back, I picked this stuff up. I’m forever on the hunt for, what is to me, the Holy Grail of face lotions: One that will lightly moisturize, absorb quickly, and make me look glowy, but not through the use of glittery sparkles. This has been surprisingly difficult to find. (I’M LOOKING AT YOU, NEUTROGENA ILLUMINATING WHIPPED MOISTURIZER! I’M NOT GOING TO A RAVE, FOR THE LOVE OF CHEESE! IT'S 2007! LOSE THE GLITTER!)
This Radiant Glow Lotion, however, is amazing; it’s light, has a very unobtrusive scent, and has a verrrry subtle and NON-SPARKLY radiance. I love it, and highly recommend it.*
(Although...my Google searching appears to indicate that it's hard to find lately, so I'm really just teasing you. Oops. Well, it should be coming back to Target soon, if it's not already there.)
UPDATE: J took the car to the mechanic this morning to assess the damage done by Douchey McJerkface. (And as I had mentioned, the extent of the damage would have a direct impact on how much I could spend on my haircut.) This is a true re-enactment of our conversation:
J: Hey, sweetie.
Me: Hi! What's the deal?
J: It's bad.
M: Bad how?
J: It's going to cost a lot.
M: Just tell me.
J: You're going to have to get a haircut with a Flowbee.
M: A Flowbee?!
J: A Flowbee.
M: Like crazy Tom Cruise?
J: Yup. Sorry, kiddo.
*The only downside is that it has no SPF, so I usually slather on a bit of Aveeno face lotion (which does) first. Eh. To me, it's a small price to pay for the pretty, pretty glow.