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Day 16 - A picture of somewhere you'd love to travel.
I would love to do the land and sea trip to Alaska. You take a cruise ship to Alaska, disembark for some time on land to explore that way, and then return home via cruise ship.
Someday...
That's right, I'm picking Oprah. It could be all kinds of fun to be that powerful for a day. As Oprah I would make some book club picks for my favorite authors so that many others would read them too (and none of those depressing books that the real Oprah picks).
I would finally learn the truth about that whole Oprah/Gayle/Steadman situation.
I might go through the show lineup of the new OWN network and get rid of shows I don't like. I actually don't know any of the shows that are currently showing, but I'm sure there must be some I wouldn't like.
And finally, I would make a VERY generous monetary donation to a deserving family (I won't say who that family would be, but as a hint... S_ _ _ _ _S). And probably give them a new car. I really need a new car... ;)
Ugh. Bedtime. The most hated part of the day. The crying. The screaming. The temper tantrums. And the kids have a hard time with it, too!
Seriously, we have a really hard time with bedtime at our house. Haley is a dream. She goes into bed when told and is generally sound asleep within 10 minutes. But Preston and Brekken push it as far as they can manage. No sooner do we leave the room than they're jumping (quite literally) out of bed. I'm usually not even at the other end of the hallway before I hear the tell-tale thumps of them leaping off the beds in some kind of game they feel compelled to play every night.
So then it's back down the hall to put them back into bed. Repeat ad infinitum.
Or they're coming out for "one more hug" or to get "just one drink" or because "Brekken is hitting me" or "Preston is biting me." And again, it's back down the hall to put them into bed. It's usually at least an hour with many threats and much anger before they finally lay still and go to sleep. So frustrating!!
Trichotillomania - noun, a compulsion to pull out one's hair
Okay, so it's not like I have an official diagnosis or anything, but I definitately pull out my hair. A lot. And I can't seem to stop myself.
One of the reasons that I keep my hair pulled back in a ponytail or bun most of the time is that if it's down and reachable, I start combing my fingers through it and pulling out any hairs that are loose. Or have a split end. Or just feel different than the other hairs. {Oh, that one has a weird texture. It's got to go.} I do it without even thinking about it. I just find myself doing it.
In the last few months, this strange quirk has me obsessing over my eyebrows, too. Not to have a perfectly plucked and groomed arch like a cover model - no, that would be too normal. Instead, I find myself stroking my eyebrows, feeling for that one hair that's a little too long. Or curls funny. Or sticks out. And I have to pull it.
But then I find another one that's bothering me, too. And I have to pull it.
I didn't think much about it until I looked a little closer in the mirror one day and realized I had a lovely bald patch in one eyebrow. And the other had a couple of spots that were a bit - shall we say - thinned out. Seriously, it looked like I'd been shaving lines through my eyebrows like Vanilla Ice {does that reference date me or what?} or or Soulja Boy. I've never before been grateful for my light blonde, barely visible eyebrows. But once I saw the bald patches, I was pretty happy that my eyebrows are not all that noticeable! LOL
So since then, I've been trying to stop myself from plucking obsessively at my eyebrows. And the bald patches are mostly filling in again. But if you see me, don't stare at the eyebrows. :D
So surely I'm not the only one with a strange habit... what's yours?