Musings

I’m back!   There’s no news you can use here.  Just my inner neurotic gone wild.  Remember, Smarty Charlotte, you call the shots.  Tell me when to put it up. 

Dear General Electric: I need “make-up light bulbs” for my bathroom so my face doesn’t come out as Kabuki or New Jersey Tan Mom. Big bucks, big bucks!

My favorite Calculus formula from high school: {Fat + Tan} = Skinny

My advice to over-the-top-gushing-profusely-about-hubby Facebookers:  Since you live with him, turn the TV off and tell him.  We don’t want to hear about it.

I love routine. Until I’m bored, then I love excitement. Until I’m overwhelmed, then I love routine.

Not very self-aware of me to park the loser cruiser in a compact space.

I just spent 2 hours brushing out AmericanGirlDollKanani’s hair. Holy hell.  If there was as place to drop her off for a comb out, I would’ve done it.

Compare and despair…I need to knock it off.

Whoever designed the lotion dispenser pump is a clown.  When you use 3/4 of the bottle, it stops working.  How about a better pump?  How about a different container – plastic-bag-like? Surely we can figure this out.  This is America, for crying out loud.  James Dyson, you hear this?  Put it on your list.

Why does everybody else look normal without makeup and I look beat down?  Why?

I was feeling blue so I went diggin’ for props to boost me up. I asked my 6 year old: “What do you like most about me?”  Her: “Your hair is brown.”  Me: “That’s it?”   Her: “You drive a car.”                   I’m still sad…

I wonder how the student/class assignment process actually goes down.  I envision something sorority rush-ish and teachers coming in with their bid lists and fights breaking out over legacies and mismatches and prefs and such.  

Good (8 hours of sleep).  Better (9 hours).  Best (10 hours).  Zzzzzzzzzzz…

Tank tops on a man are never okay.

Dear Uncle Ken:  Kindly unsubscribe me from your daily email fwds such as funny things that cats do, daily prayer, pass this to 10 friends, etc.

Pinterest will make you want a giant life do-over.

Dear Starbucks, Caribou, Port City Java: For increased revenue and goodwill from Charlotte parents, sell your goods at soccer fields on Saturday mornings – FORTUNE TO BE MADE!   {Monica’s musing that I stole…LYMI}

My hangover helper: 3 Advil, Gatorade and McDonald’s. In that order. What’s yours?

What is my second act?  Someone just tell me and save me the soul searching.

I want to party with Uncle Si. I really do. I know there’s something more than sweet tea in that glass. 

When did “whole nother” become acceptable parlance?  It’s the new “irregardless”. 

I’ve got everybody else syndrome.  Is there a cure?

I don’t want to be like the novelist who spent so much time rewriting his first sentence that he never wrote his second.  Save me.

January Musings

February Musings

March Musings