Saturday, April 15, 2006

Fra, ra, ra, ra, ra.

eefers was in desperate need of a haircut, and today went to my favorite salon, SEI-Tomoko (pay no attention to the girl with the late 90's hairstyle on the homepage). The owner, Tomoko, who always cuts my hair (when I'm not cutting it or my little sister isn't) talked me into a hair moisturizer since I've been coloring it, and it's a little dry. And on the back of said moisturizer? "ALSO COATS SPRIT ENDED HAIR." I shit you not. I'll take a picture if I can find my camera.

Retro-Stylin

I bought a waist pack today. What's a waist pack, you say? Well, my fashion-challenged readers, it's a chic name for fanny pack. And I bought one. Because I'm chic. Chic, in this case meaning, I'm tired of having a sweat line running diagonally across my chest from wearing a messenger bag when I bike. Now I'll have a sweaty ass instead. Tres chic!

Friday, April 14, 2006

Nobody Puts Baby In a Conference Room

At work, I'm Baby. Ok, they don't call me Baby like Frances in Dirty Dancing, but I am the baby. I'm old enough, however, to remember the episode of Seinfeld where Elaine gets annoyed every time they have cake for someone's birthday. Luckily, in my office, we don't have cake every day, but we have it at just about every staff meeting (celebrating the birthdays of the month). And we end every staff meeting with my colleagues gawking over the fact that I was born after 1980. Today's trigger? I said something about TYP (referring to Track Your Park, a new program at NY4P). Then people started talking about Michael Jackson. I didn't pretend to know what they were talking about. And they laughed at me for it. I googled it and still couldn't figure it out. Does it stand for touch your privates? Someone help!