Blame this Post on Lindsey!

Note to self: Do not read Lindsey's blog right before you go to sleep for the night. You may have the following results.

Well it's official.
I'm crazy. I had a dream last night that involved a blogger that I lurve.

Now I usually don't remember much about my dreams. But I often wake up feeling strange and confused. This morning I awoke with the same feeling, and with the peculiar feeling that I was experiencing dejavú. Once my eyes finally adjusted and I was up and watching the Today Show, I sat up and exclaimed, "Holy shit! Laurel was in my dream last night!"

Before you jump to any conclusions or get all jealous pants on me and say why didn't you dream of me? or me? I am pretty sure it is because I read Laurel's blog right before I read Lindsey's last night. So simmer down.

In my dream, Laurel was at my house. Which looked like a giant sized version of my apartment. Her and her man friend, which was not AS, but was my friend Tony were spending the night. At least I think they were because I was playing hostess and changing the sheets on the bed in the guest room.

Oh and Laurel, you were pregnant.
But don't worry because I was prego too.

And that's all I really remember from my dream.

Thankyouverymuch.

Thanks a lot Lindsey!

What Really Happens on Patriot's Day

So I forgot to mention in my Patriot's Day post yesterday, that the Red Sox play every year on Patriot's Day at 10am. That was all of the drunkards of Red Sox nation can stumble over to Boylston Street to watch the end of the race.

This year, there was an incident at Fenway, that was all over the Boston news on Monday. It even made it into the Sportcenter Highlights that night on ESPN.
Take a look.

Red Sox Fans and their announcers at their finest.

GO YANKEES!

Why Do I even BOTHER!

Tonight I did something for myself.
I finally went to get my hair cut/ highlighted. I have never highlighted my hair before, although I have had a friend dye my hair at home once or twice. And I may of may not have dyed my hair all shades of weird with Kool- Aid in junior high. But that's here nor there.

Tonight a professional was doing it. AWESOME!
My appointment wasn't until 6:30, and I didn't quite have enough time to go home to change, so I just went to the salon right after work. I got there around 5:45 and took a seat in one of their cushy leather chairs. After about ten minutes my stylist came to get me.

We talked about what I wanted and what my needs were. She showed me some highlight colors and we chose which one would be best for me. My hair is very dark brown, so I did not want to be too dramatic AKA SKUNKY BLONDE STREAKS. So within minutes I am all foiled and reading the new issue of US weekly while I wait. Brangelina's adopting a Vietnamese baby, blah blah. Brit Brit is crazy, what else is new.

Before I knew it, I was being shampooed and conditioned (ooh dirty). My hair was cut and blown dry. It looks awesome. Thank god! Secretly I was nervous. But I paid, I tipped, I got coupons for next time and I was on my way.

My salon is right across the street from Trader Joes, so I could not resist buying a cheap bottle of wine to go along with my leftover turkey chili from last night. I also picked up some frozen mango (mmm) and headed to the check out counter. After pushing all of those stupid buttons: enter your pin, is $X.XX okay?, are you sure paying $X.XX okay?. I guess I had missed one "OK" because the very nice clerk said, "Oh wait, one more time". And I responded with "Man, I just want to go home and have a glass or two of my cheap wine!". We both had a chuckle and I was off again.

Luckily there was a bus coming. So I hoped on instead of paying 5 bucks for a cab. The bus driver was nuts. He stopped in the intersection to let people off and he drove about 5 miles per hour. AHH! Hurry it's 8:30 I need to get home for 24!!!!

8:40- off the bus, walking down my street. I reach into my coat pocket to grab my keys. Hmm. No keys. Search my bag. Still no keys. Shit. No No. Where are my keys???!!!

So now, I must go get Tim's keys from him at work and pray that my keys are in the apartment.
DAMNIT!
Did I give Emily (friend that lives across the street) my extra key?

"Emily? Did I ever give you that spare key to my apartment?"
"Um. Nope"
"DAMNIT!"
"Locked out"
"Yep".

OK. New plan. Call zipcar. Go to Tim's job. Get his keys.

"Tim. Can you come outside and bring your keys? I'm locked out".

"Hi."
"Hi."
Hands me his keys through the open window.
"Well you're hair looks nice."
"Thanks. I just hope my keys are inside the apartment and not lost".
"Oh yea. They're on the table. I saw them this morning and thought 'oh look Julie's keys'".
Please walk away from me now.
"I'll call you when I get home, so you better be up to let me in".
"Yea. Yea. I'm looking forward to it".

So there you have it.
Moral of the story- Don't bother doing anything nice for yourself. And if you do, make sure your neighbor has your extra key.

But look!
Pretty highlighted hair!