Jazz makes you look cool and gets you laid
That's just ... wrong. The wrong reason to listen to jazz, at least.
I dodn't realize readership of Marie Claire required such a high minimum income threshold/sugar daddy. For geez.
::nodding::
I mean, really. I'm supposed to spend "serious bank" and fly to Paris to get my hair done? Once?!
Now, being the anal retentive that I am, I have matching luggage.
FROM TARGET.
Gucci my ass.
Pie!
What? It's early, and you all have made me hungry.
I'm working the day after, too, but I'm hoping we go out to eat, because I don't want the drama of cooking or going to someone's house and all that.
It seems so much about image, so little about what makes a person happy. But that's not what they're selling, is it? But I did fly to Prague for a haircut...
OK, I was *in* Prague and needed a haircut. Badly.
Rutabaga, mashed potatoes but no gravy, stuffing that never saw the guy of a bird... Those are my personal tastes of Thanksgiving. The rest can vary wildly and I won't mind.
You'd be all set at my house as long as we made some of the outside stuffing sans celery.
I do not have matching luggage. I have one vintage suitcase that I adore. (Also, one of Lee's carry-on suitcases.)
Also, I want the Ralph Lauren tuxedo. He knows how to cut for my shape.
If you want matching luggage, great! Hell, if you want an Yves St. Laurent tux, great! But being told I must have those things in the next ten years makes me...contrary.
I'm going to refrain from going off on the Marie Claire article, because it'll be good for my blood pressure, and a thing you don't want by 40 is a heart attack.
It's things like this that remind me that the media sometimes has no idea what "average American life" is like.
Being told I'm *supposed* to schedule an appointment with Dalai Lama makes me roll my eyes forever.