Migraine or twitch?

My eye has been twitching since Friday.
Twitch, wiggle, twitch.
Hours and hours of it.

My stress mechanism usually shows up in the form of a migraine. Which I could kill with a few judicious applications of Excedrin. Thereby reducing my misery to just a few several hours. And a lot of unproductive time.

But nooooo, I have the twitch instead.

Damn, I can't believe I would say this but...I sure wish I had a migraine right now.

Hold that Scream!

It's a laundry evening. And homework. And TV. And all the other little things one does around the home to neaten up after a long weekend and longer week.

And since I'm genetically incapable of doing one task to completion, I end up doing all of those activities in bits and pieces. Which means I don't give my entire attention to any one in particular.

It goes like this...Take the dried items out of the dryer, usually folding as I go. Wander back to the bathroom to put the towels away. Flip through a few channels since The Replacements just ended; watch the opening scenes of Men in Black. Wander to the office and replace the Christmas CD that just finished ripping to MP3 to start the next one. Check email while I'm there. At this point I notice that the dryer door is still open, so I stroll back to the bedroom for the next load. Drop that load next to the washer and begin taking items out of the washer. And just as I'm about to toss the first sweatshirt into the dryer, I notice something still in there. Something with glowing yellow orbs.

I scream and jerk my arm back, getting a face full of wet sweatshirt. As I try to recover, something flashes past my feet, tripping me up. I stumble backward, knocking the postcards and pictures off the shelving behind me. I've dropped the sweatshirt by now, so as I again try to recover, I stumble over it...and a tail.

I end up on my knees facing a hissing Persian who happens to be trapped against the bookshelf by a picture of bluebonnets, a stuffed Astros memento and several CDs -- and whose fur is so fluffed out that a hot air balloon would stick to her.

And, finally I laugh.

Hard lipstick?!

The Irish took my lipstick this afternoon. Damn them. They said it was a gel!

Correction...they said that only "hard lipstick" can go into hand luggage.

Hard lipstick? What the hell is that?

Dr Pepper -- Yeah, Baby!

It's official...I'm moving to London!

As many of you know, I have gone through considerable angst since transferring to the Boston area. Not only does the local bottler not know that Caffeine Free Dr Pepper actually is a product, but also most local merchants haven't even heard of Dr Pepper -- unless they think a berry-filled version is what normal people want.

Well, having spent less than 24 hours in London, I'm ready to say that I want to live here! From the convenience store in Terminal 4 at Heathrow Airport to the one at Victoria Station to every small deli and store between the Station and Parliament and on to Buckingham Palace...I have found Dr Pepper.

Okay, so the British Dr Pepper tastes similar to the Dublin version -- a little flatter and sweeter, as if they're using real sugar like they do in Dublin, TX. And I prefer the bite of the more prevalent DP.

But- but- it's DP in quantity! Really. It's not a single row buried among swaths of Coca-Cola Zero and Berry Dr Pepper. Some delis even had multiple rows.

OMG! I'm not in London. Something must have happened during those 10 minutes I managed to snooze on the flight, and now I'm somewhere else. An alternate reality: the Michelle London.

Hmmm, I wonder if designer shoes cost less than $20 and can pack down into a credit card sized package...