FAIRWEATHER FRIEND

So basically i made a pact with myself, that i wouldn't blog until the weather bowed to my will and hit @ least 75 degrees two days in succession. I have the unmitigated gall to protest nature. Actually its more that i like making dumb challenges for myself. Since i made the pact, (on friday) The weather has gone like this:

Friday: 66
Saturday: 63
Sunday: 65
Monday: 51 (wtf???)
Today: 72

Its not bowing guys.

...which means that technically i shouldn't be blogging, as evidenced by those pathetic temperatures. I mean really. Fifty one degrees? In May? Trifling. Seriously, monday night i actually had the fireplace going. I felt ridiculous, but it was either that or turn the heat on, and that, i adamantly refuse.

Yeah so i shouldn't be blogging but i am which means my will is weak, and my pacts are as binding as the treaty of versailles...and worth even less. It also means that the weather hates me, but since i went into diatribe about my hatin hair the other day i'll spare yall one on hatin weather...for now.

Besides, what if it never gets warmer? Al gore told us the inconvenient truth, straight, no chaser. The mid-atlantic's weather pattern could be forever altered, and I, in a fit of capricious pact-making(is there any other kind?) would have bitten off my nose to spite my face.

Anyways there is so much to talk about. Nothing of moment - natch - but a bumpercrop of topics all the same.

Like how i slathered all of this self tanner on my gams to eradicate the pale and bring in the (faux)warm glow but its too cold to go bare legged. Or how i haven't done my eyebrows in two weeks out of of sheer laziness, and am scaring myself with my wookie eyes. Speaking of eyes, how my vitreous floaters are in effect mode and its driving me crazy. How im convincing myself that said floaters don't cause blindness. How its not working. How i'm still afraid of the dark. Why i'm eating a biscuit at this late hour. How i'm contemplating eating another after this. How there's a family of raccoons that assault and battery-ize my trashcans every night. How i totally struggled with spelling assault in the previous sentence.

Stuff like that.

So while you're here, I'd like to thank yall for taking a moment to read and indulge my emo stream of consciousness from the other day. I was buggin, and yall know it and i know it. But you guys let me know i wasn't alone. Which was awesome. I reread it and was like :

"lex...really?"

Straight up to talking to myself in third person. On some sybil ish. Wait, that's a little serious. More like Beyonce/Sasha. There, that's better. Less touched and more touch my body.

Speaking of which, can we discuss the Nick and Mariah Nuptials? Before the inevitable divorce. I know you see it.