What's more, it was in an extra large load of darks.
...DANG... (see below)
On a normal day, I could probably handle it without too much trouble. (I've done it before. You think a girl would learn!) But today, I'm pretty high on the not feeling well scale. To quote a beloved poem from my Grandma, "You don't have to say it, it shows in your face." I would have taken a picture of myself to illustrate, but I'm only partially dressed today. Yep, it's that kind of day.
Imagine, if you please, the following: grungy pajamas, hair haphazardly bobbypinned out of my face with approximately 5 bobbypins, glasses, no makeup, very swollen and puffy eyelids (which I'm hoping beyond a hope are only irritated and not infected), and harassed-looking nose from 27 too many nose-blows with toilet paper.
GarrRaou. Remind me to sign up for the next beauty pageant.
In the hour that I was picking tissue fragments out of each and every one of Blake's poor, bekleenexed church socks, the following clip repeatedly came to mind. And I tried to sing "Jesus Savior, Pilot Me" in my head instead. I think it sort of, mostly, halfway worked?...
The first 20 seconds will basically do the trick,
but you My Fair Lady fans out there may just want to watch it in its entirety...
First, an honest question...
Why is that so funny???
Why is that so funny???
Way to go, Henry Higgins. Now I want to be a sinner and cuss like a refined British linguist.
On the bright side, I made it through the ordeal without swearing (for those of you who've stumbled upon this blog and don't know me well, please understand that I am not a cusser nor have I ever been), and then when I youtubed this clip and watched the whole song, I felt a lot better. Naughty-word-four-times-in-a-row for the win. Now I'm headed to bed with ice packs on my eyes, and things will all look better in an hour or so.
Ciao!
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