A Prelude to Hair Thursday

It’s coming! Hold your horses!

Last night, I was a tad over-served in the martini department (hence the delay). I was enjoying a few with a fabulous friend when I noticed an older, Tony Bennett clone and his colleagues staring at me from across the bar. Several times I remarked to my friend that this man was staring a hole through us, but of course, that she should not turn around and look. (Which actually sounded more like, “OMG DON’T LOOK NOW HE’S GONNA BUST YOU OMG!” Dude, I have NO game anymore.)

For some reason, he had a particularly nice, mellow stare and it didn’t really bother me too much. (I mean, for Christ’s sake, he was seventy. Or sixty, I don’t know. How old is Tony Bennett?)

After an hour had passed, I looked up and noticed he was gone. I mentioned to my friend that he must have left when all of the sudden, I saw him approaching. (OMG! HE’S COMING OVER, DON’T LOOK NOW! EEK!) However, he was absolutely pleasant, mentioning that he was on his way out, but that he and his friends had been been watching me (You don’t say?) and making guesses about my age and what I did for a living, and he just had to know if he was in the ball park.

I was beginning to think I was involved in one of the worst pick-up schemes ever, but I must admit, I was curious. I asked him what his guess was and he replied, “a hair model”. You’ve got to be kidding me. My friend and I looked at each other and just started laughing incredulously, as we had JUST finished talking about Hair Thursdays and the whole I-can’t-believe-people-actually-ask-MY-advice-about-their-hair thing. How did I get to this point? Seriously.

I told him, “No, but thank you for the compliment”, and he apologized for interrupting our conversation and went on his merry way. (Which, I must admit, was very refreshing. No attempt at cheesy small talk or buying us drinks, he just wanted an answer to his question and let us be.)

Oh! And if the hair compliment wasn’t enough, he thought I was 22. TWENTY-TWO YEARS OLD. Unfortunately, for about 12 seconds, I couldn’t remember how old I was. Like I had to mentally subtract 1974 from 2007 in my head before telling him I was 33. Sadly, I don’t think my martini consumption was to blame.

Hello, I’m Whoorl and I occasionally forget how old I am.

(Dear Tony Bennett clone, call me. We can share the cost of our Alzheimer’s medication.)

Neato Is Here!

Born last night around midnight via C-section. 8 pounds, 2 ounces and 22.5 inches long.

(His cheeks look delicious. MONCH. MONCH.)

Twins!

Okay. Not Lala’s new addition, but US! WILL YOU LOOK AT US, FOR THE LOVE OF SQUISHY BABIES EVERYWHERE?!

Yours truly:

And Lala:

She’s currently 4cm dilated after 7 hours, which might seem like a long time to some, but considering I was a mere 3 centimeters after 16 HOURS ON PITOCIN, I’m thinking she’s moving along quite well.

WooHOOOO! Neato’s on the way!

Care to wager on when he’ll arrive? (FYI, she was induced on Pitocin at 9am CST today.)

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