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Aren't Mondays the best?


I now present outfit twenty-five. You can't hear it but I'm giving myself a golf clap right now. (A golf clap because a standing ovation seems a bit indulgent.) This was a hard remix, much more than my last one. If there was ever a lesson to be learned it's this -- don't trust Texas weather and include something other than pencil skirts. Variety is my best friend. When will I learn this, when?

If you are wondering what's up with my hair, and even if you aren't, it's been misting rain in the mornings here lately. And apparently my hair remembers that I permed it about 10 years ago with an at-home perm and a friend. A friend who went on to work in business, not as a hair stylist. When mist hits my hair, she curls right up. All the products in the world can't make it curly, but a light misty rain after I've spent 10 minutes perfecting it? Works every time.

How was your Monday? People keep asking me how my day was and I can't remember. That's how good/bad it was. You decide. I don't think I can. Oh and my post title? I was kidding. Mondays are the worst.