I started getting a headache this afternoon. This is not that unusual, except this time it started in my damn eye. After about an hour it felt like someone was trying to gouge out my eyeball with their thumb. Two ibuprofen later and things are a bit better, but jeez...
For lack of anything better, would you like to hear a story about my childhood? Of course you would:
I happen to be the daughter of one of the cheapest men on the entire planet. When my little brother and I were growing up, we lived about 55 miles from the nearest urban center, Boise. My dad had to go to Boise fairly often for business, but since Justin and I were in school at the time, we couldn't exactly tag along when we needed new school clothes and the like. So my dad used to have us stand on empty brown-paper bags, and he'd trace our bare feet on the bag with a pen. Then he'd mosey on down to KMart and compare the little foot on the bag with the shoes on the rack. This is how I ended up wearing MacGregor rubber-soled golf shoes to school for two years in a row. He found them on clearance and thought, "Hey, I'll just get my 10 year-old daughter [who was already having issues enough at the time because my rather full lips had earned me the nickname Moose Lips] two pairs of these nifty golf shoes and then she can wear them next year!" Someday when I have online storage space of my own, I will scan one of my class pictures in and post it so that you can all get a good look at Moose Lips the Caddy Girl.
Thanks for the scars, Daddio.