Isn't That the Saying?

Among this weekend's activities was a good old fashioned boo-hoo breakdown. I mentioned last week that I was looking forward to a little party at my house, but we had to postpone it because my dad, and then my mom and grandmother, got that bad cold. Which is good, I mean, no sense in having miserable people at a party, and nobody wants to catch it, especially as HR just got over his little bout of illness. But even with the particulars of situation laid out all rational-like--and knowing that there would be a party again, someday soon--I was weepy mess for a couple of hours. And I'm not a psychology wank or anything, but I think that might just have been what they call projecting. It comes out in funny ways. Otherwise, the weekend was quite lovely.

Now for the important stuff: my new glasses. It was about time after two years of not going to the eye doctor, also one of the arms of my old glasses was mysteriously snapped off when left in the room with my two-year-old for 30 seconds. The held-together-with-tape look is so 2012. So, these guys. They big, yah? Sort of an impulse choice, but I have less buyer's remorse than usual. It's funny how things come around, like my first glasses were pretty owlish, and subsequent ones got smaller and smaller and now the big ol' frames are back. Big frames, big brains, am I right?

 Next up: haircut, obviously. Boyyyeee.