Last night I dreamed that Target started selling these huge cosmetic “samplers” that had all of these awesome samples from NARS, Bare Escentuals, Philosophy, Stila, and Too Faced. It was kind of expensive, so we went in together and then had a make-up throwdown afterwards to see who needed what product the most. It was ridiculous, but we had a blast. Then I turned into a troll.
When are we gonna drink again?
I did not tell you the other night, although I should have and have regretted it since, that you were beautiful. Because, my God, you are. You are glowing and look amazingly pulled together while recovering from a c-section with a two year old running around. You are my hero.
When I get my wine refrigerator, I’m going to depend on your delicate palate to tell me what to buy. Like a bottle of Boujalais Nouveau or whatever the hell that is that is so good every year. Of course, I think we should taste every bottle before we decide.
My screensaver at work is a revolving slideshow of my Flickr albums. Someone was in my cube talking to me when a shot of you came up, and they absolutely stopped talking. They said you were so other-worldly gorgeous. And I had to agree, but I said your best feature is that you watch Rock of Love II and will admit it.
Recently acquired: two 3-6 month Alabama onesies. They have AndyZ’s name all over them.
I’m so jealous that you’ve preordered your WiiFit. You will have to give me a detailed review, because we’ll be in the thrust of moving when it’s released, and I doubt I can get around to setting everything up in time. But do a downward facing dog for me, girl.
I’m so happy to have reconnected with you, and that your life is going so well. Also: I covet your hair.
I think sleeping with Darth Vader is kind of hot.