Drowning in bags under my eyes

OK, I took the Screech post off. I do apologize, it was a lame way to fill space. And since we still haven't been able to complete any projects that are blog worthy, unless you want to hear about the gigantic limbs of a tree we sawed off and chopped up this weekend, I am going to post something about me that you can laugh at. Don't worry, it's house related.

My friend Alison wrote an ARTICLE for a local weekly paper about problems with water bills in our area, and interviewed me for it because, as I think I mentioned, we received a $3800 water bill 3 weeks after we moved in. She warned me I might get called for a picture, but she had a guy who was willing to pose with an illegal key in front of his water meter, so they would probably choose that. Lo and behold, I get a call from the paper's 19 year old photo intern asking if he could come take my picture at 8am the next day. I hesitantly agreed and skipped the lecture about asking any woman over 30 to be photographed at dawn. I got up extra early and put ice, cold compresses, tea bags, and finally concealer on my eyes. I even turned the house upside down for Preparation H to no avail.

The other day, I got a horrified email from Alison, saying that she had seen the article, the picture was enormous and she was so sorry. Of course, the first thing I asked was if I looked enormous. She said, no, just tired.

YA THINK????? (graphics and titles, compliments of my husband)



Beyond the fact that my hair hasn't been cut or highlighted since before our wedding, I could take a trip with the bags under my eyes. And a wonderbra couldn't hurt either. Getting old sucks! Oy vay.