Blogging from the homestead

I’ve been at the homestead with the ‘rents for a couple days now. They only have dial up and one phone line so my blogging addiction has not been as bad as it could have been.

I’m down for a family wedding. Mom and sis took me out shopping for a dress because to paraphrase mom, “This is a West Indian wedding. You can’t just show up looking’ any ole way.” Translation, you have to look like a million bucks while being as cheap as cheap can be or people WILL talk about you. I have a reputation as a bit of a fashion misfit in the family. I don’t like the rules that say I have to get all gussied up to please someone else’s standard how I should dress. My sisters usually just shake their heads at my deliberate nonconformity but mom likes to rib me about it when she can.

So they took it upon them selves to “hook me up.” Technically I had veto power if I didn’t like anything they wanted to get me. Technically. Mom’s as stubborn as I am (I learned from the best). Anyway, now I’ve got a nice new dress that everyone approves of that will probably still fit 2 or 3 months from now.

The rest of the girls are at the hairdresser’s getting all gussied up for the wedding this afternoon. I refused to get out of bed at 6 o’clock in the morning to go sit and wait to have someone do something to my hair that I could do myself in about 20 minutes (that includes the time I would have to spend picking kids off of furniture and rescuing random objects from them). And let’s not even talk about the cost. I splurged at the hairdresser’s for Christmas and I still can’t get over the cost. And my sisters told me that it was a good price for NYC.

Anyway, Avery made good on his promise to blog about the over use of the term racist. It looks pretty good. I’m still on my crusade to stamp out illegitimate uses of the word and it’s various forms (somewhat delayed because of my limited access to the internet for the last couple of days and a nosy family that’s always talking to me even when I’m trying to sleep). The two instances where I challenged the trotting out of the “r” word have yet to produce any credible justification for its usage. I’ll let you know if I ever get any.


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