I know, I know, Happy New Year. Look, AF needs a break, just like ya’ll do. Mine consisted of returning to the Motherland (i.e. Chicago) to visit friends and family. Highlights include:
* Finally watching The Lord of the Rings. Yes, I lived in a cave throughout the first half of what has so far been the 21st century. And now, thanks to having watched all three (extended version) in the course of one week, I am that annoying person who can’t stop talking like Gollum, which is not nearly as un-creepy as it might have been back when the movies first came out. Childrens is trixie, my precious!
* Getting my hair cut by “my stylist” in Chicago. Yes, I waited 6 months to return to the Midwest to have her cut it. Why, you ask, would the person who used to fear social contact with her hair-dresser, and purposely move from stylist to stylist to avoid questions about her family and love life, be so endeared to one now. Well, friends, AF early-adopters will remember this little incident. Well, Laura is the unnamed hero of the downtown Red Door Salon who saved my hair from utter-mulletude. And for this, dear friends, I owe her my hair forever.
Oh, by the way, I’m really into these Dentyne ads:
I’m especially intrigued by the image on the left (upside down people) because of its gender neutrality. I mean, I was pretty sure that the person on the left was the girl and the person on the right was a boy. But, honestly, it could go every which way. And that one down there on the right… I’m pretty sure it’s two chicks, one with sweet boots and one with sweet Chucks.
Or I just want it to be, because that would be awesome.

4 Comments
I have a full sized poster of Elijah Wood staring at a golden ring. Yeah, I’m a Tolkien dork. (Surprise?)
Oh! So my fight with the meter maid didn’t make the list? Thought seeing us H&M crew was pretty important but i guess now
I was trying to spare you the embarrassment. Plus, I didn’t want any evidence they could bring to court…but now you’ve succeeded in implicating yourself on a public document. Nice job.
p.s. The real story is: Connor kicked the crap out of that meter maid; Or, alternatively, he cowered like a small puppy at the sound of her shrill, shrewish, meter-maid voice as she threatened to “talk to him” from her meter-jeep. You decide which story to propagate…
I’ve made up my mind…
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