The Pink

Turns out I didn't get around to all the blog fixing up I had planned to do over the weekend. So, we're still a bit...pink over here. Yup. Pink and more pink and some orange in that banner. If you're thinking of abandoning me because of the assault on your eyes, please rest assured I have my crack team of design specialists who are going to help me get this down to non-retina burning levels by the end of the week or so. I'm actually having a hard time posting because the little perfectionist in me wants all the little aesthetics fixed before settling in.

Things I might post about if I were a tad less neurotic right now:

Allie's giant egg-shaped head. J and I spent a good while trying to decide if it is her hair that makes her appear egg-shaped or if she's just got a completely elongated head. I'm going with oblong head.

Ivanka Trump looks exactly like Paris Hilton and Lisa Kudrow's gawky blond offspring. With sort of a Trump voice.

That little X that is stitched across the back flap of spring coats? That's not a fashion thing, that's a packaging and display thing. One hint they give you is that it is literally two light stitches, not, say, a whole embroidered decoration. CUT THE X.

My love/hate relationship with grape tomatoes. On one hand: yummy. On the other: it's like putting a tiny landmine right in your mouth. What if instead of deliciousness, out spurts rotty pulp? The fear of getting a bad grape tomato makes me abandon almost all of them in a given salad.

I've come to the conclusion that of all women who put mascara on while riding the subway, 100% of them will apply it with a dry mascara brush and will commence with putting on approximately 300 coats (or 10 minutes worth, whichever comes first) of whatever is on their dry mascara wand. If such a woman is sitting across or next to me, I have to get up and move, as this has come to really annoy the shit out of me.