Siddity in the City

“Well, I guess I’m gon’ have to be single this year then, ’cause I need to stack up some money.”

Jerry Springer: Pwned by a guest-ho.

I wasn’t watching-watching. I was flipping channels while I attempted to wake up over coffee. Sigh.

The next few weeks are going to be a bit of a blur. I’m trying to get all my ducks in a row pre-move, and I’m trying to see everyone I love pre-move, too. That means I am going to be all up and down the east coast. This weekend, I’m hitting the Philly area to see the grands. Next week, I take off for eight days–EIGHT–with my mom and baby brother, for Florida, on a high-school sponsored trip to el Mundo Disney (He’s a band-geek, except he happens to also be a jock and an AP student. Show off.). HIGH SCHOOL TRIP. Did I mention it was a bus tour?

I love my family though, and we’ve never taken a real family vacation together before, so despite the whole busload of 15-year-olds with souzaphones for 20-odd hours thing, I’m looking forward to it.

Since I’ve been cut off from my gym and cheap salons and discount shopping and everything wonderful that the city represents, I’ve gotten fat(ter) and crusty. I don’t feel pretty, if you will. Which may explain why I have lately started obsessing over my nails. Quick fix for pretty, you know. I change my polish every three days or so, and have solo “debates” over the relative merits of the square-tipped french mani vs. the short, dark glamor nail. Not surprisingly, I’ve bought a bunch of new polishes, which are cheaper than new shoes or outfits, but almost as exciting (sarcasm).

My acquisitions:
Chanel Rose Baby (delicate pearl pink)
Essie Sandy Beach (boring natural)
Essie Jag-U-Are (hooker red, pedis only)
Essie Marshmallow (waste of money, not right for french tips as imagined)
Mac Vintage Vamp (vampy wine-y red, of course)

Is it wrong I sandwiched my family in there between Jerry Springer whores and manicure options?