You know when you grab your mail out of the box and then walk straight from there to the recycling bin so you can throw away four credit card offers, a letter from your college asking for a donation, a packet of free address labels and six magazine subscriptions addressed to the previous tenant of your apartment which then causes you to pout because you didn't get any "fun" mail? Yeah, yesterday wasn't one of those days.
Because yesterday I received this pretty little number:
To say I'm obsessed is an understatement. I mean just look at the thing. It's like the clouds aligned and shot down a lighting bolt full of glorious golden nuggets straight onto this hanger. If you combine anything girly, glam and gold into one thing you will then have to unwrap my heart from the happy little bow that has formed around it. And guess what, someones needs to come unwrap my heart as fast as I can unwrap a hard shell from Taco Bell right about now because this little number from Pearls and Pastries is the bomb dot edu.
The only problem is that it's so pretty it's making everything around it look bad. I don't have any fancy LBD's to hang from it and, frankly, I don't know if I ever will let anything hang from it. It deserves to stand alone. Which is exactly why it's currently just hanging from the shelf in my room right now until I find a worth enough space for it.
Maybe next to some T-Bell wrappers? Ya prolly not. I guess we'll have to wait on that one.
So while that story remains in the "to be continued" category of life we have some other news to discuss. My mom posted this picture on Facebook last night with a caption under it that contained the words "first boo boo" and "stitches". Gah, my poor little beaut of a baby!
Apparently the little monster caught her leg on the bottom of a chain link fence and needed to get patched up because of it. But now my parents have the thrilling task of trying to keep that duct tape wrapped around her bandaged up leg so she doesn't chew through those stitches. Duct tape > cone around your neck. Lets just say I'm glad she's not my dog at the moment because that crazy kid does more damage to her surroundings than a tornado would in Manhattan.
Which, apparently, we had a warning for a couple days ago according to the eleventy and a half thousand notifications The Weather Channel decided was necessary to send me. I just can't really imagine what a tornado would look like ripping down the streets of Manhattan, though. There's just simply not enough room for something so large and ravenous to fit into such a small and fragile place. But that's only what she said and not what Dorothy said wasn't it?
And in true "Two Thirds Hazel is the most random blog I've ever read" fashion...we will now transition from sex to seriousness...
I walked home from my 68th and Lex subway stop yesterday evening after work and happened to step foot (literally) on this pretty little thing: