Just not my kind of party, I guess

The St. Louis Magazine A-List party last night was…shall we say…different. Great music, great food, interesting people (I saw a mohawk! It’s been years since I’ve seen a mohawk!). It’s not something I’d want to go to on a regular basis, but once a year is probably fine.

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And you are…?

I’ve discovered a minor annoyance recently that, in the grand scheme of things, is so relatively low on the list of things to be pissy about that I question whether I should even address it here.

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The Lion Queen Roars

Going to see The Lion King tonight, after dinner at Boogaloo in Maplewood. I’ve never eaten at Boogaloo or seen The Lion King, so it’s an evening of firsts.

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Even when I win, I lose

M and I played Scrabble last night, for the first time in ages. Last time we played, about six or seven years ago, he kicked my butt. I got stomped. I will admit that my journalistic pride was wounded, and my vocabularic ego was knocked down a notch.

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My chaos is different from their chaos

Things have been so chaotic lately that, for the first time in my professional life, I’ve found myself out from behind the computer more often than not. Normally I’m pretty chained to my desk. Not that I’m not usually busy…I am…it’s just been an entirely different kind of busy. Not necessarily a better busy than usual, or a worse busy, just a different busy. And, I would like to clear up, that when I use the word “chaotic” to describe my life, it in no way is even remotely tied to the whole Britney and K-Fed Chaotic mess of a show. Those two have forever ruined the wonderful word that was chaotic. In my mind, anyway.

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