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the eleventh hour

That's eleven fingers. Count them. I've been waiting for this outfit to unveil my hidden secret -- my extra finger.

I'm kidding. I don't have eleven finger, you guys. I have twelve.

Today was a bizarre/bad day which I refuse to hash out here. We've got more important things to talk about right? Like the BP scandal -- you know Bristol Palin and Levi Johnston getting back together. Can you believe that?

Do you want to know something that isn't bizarre or bad? My lipstick. I've been wearing it non-stop since the nice people at Talbots sent it my way. They must be psychic because just the other day I was whining about wanting red lipstick but never knowing the right shade. Who says that whining doesn't work?

"Wine-ing" on the other hand does not work. This is where you drink enough wine to stain your lips. Why does it not work? By the time you get just the right shade, you fall asleep.

"Charmed" lipstick courtesy of Talbots.