My office is a mess

The title of this post has nothing to do with what's actually in the post. Like a Mike Nesmith song.

I have a number of disassociated thoughts, so what better time for a numbered post.

1. Today, I hit the 28 week mark. That officially puts me into the 3rd trimester. I'm excited and a little freaked out. The kid has decided that she likes putting her foot under my ribcage and I have to poke at her to make her move it out of there. That's one unpleasant sensation.

2. Thanks to my manicure on Saturday, my fingernails look fabulous. The nail techician, Olga, even complimented my fingernails. Yay vitamins! I'm hoping this polish holds out until Thursday. I have a meeting in DC on Thursday.

3. Richard did a nice enough job on my hair. Richard is arrogant and a liar and so transparent I can see though him like nylons. Richard doesn't love me, I know it, but I'm so needy for a hairdresser who understands my hair that I'm willing to put up with him. Richard promised he'd make my hair fabulous. He told me that I have a screwed up hairline and that he'd do his best to fix it. I said, "I don't blame you" and he said "It's not me, it's the hair!" He talks too fast and pushes my head around as if he doesn't realize that it's actually attached to my neck. He tried to show me exactly how to dry my bangs so that the wouldn't flip out forward (as they are naturally inclined to do) and I can't do it.

I miss Damon - Damon who told me my hair reminded him of Meg Ryan's. Damon who seemed genuinely happy to see me when I showed up for my appointments. Damon who remembered that I travel for my job and who always asked me if I'd been anywhere interesting lately. Damon who talked me into growing my hair out longer and then left me to deal with it on my own. What have you done to me, Damon? Look at the mess you've left behind. You stole my layers and you left me with a distrust of hairdressers. How could you?

4. Last weekend when the Bears won the NFC Championship game, Mr. Frodis and I invited my family over to our house for the Superbowl. Today, my dad invited us over to their house for the Superbowl. I said, "But we already invited you to our house" and he claimed he doesn't remember. Neither do my brothers. I've been claiming for years now that no one listens to me, but as that is the case, no one knows that I've been claiming that for years. I told Mr. Frodis that we should ditch them all and go to Bermuda and watch the game there.

5. I ended up making brownies to bring to my friends' house on Saturday (thanks, Zombs!) I left the entire pan with them, so on Sunday when I was craving brownies again I made another batch. I left it up to Mr. Fro to cut them up and he divided the pan into 4 brownies. 4 ginormous brownies.

6. It's snowing.