Ode to Liana

Oh, Liana? Oh, won't you dye for me?
My real hair color's growing out with roots for all to see.

Doomed!

Pat Robertson really, really, REALLY believes marriage should be between a man and a woman in sickness and in health. But not in Alzheimer's. Because that is exactly WJWD.

Michelle Bachman is not a doctor, but she is very comfortable passing along medical information on national television based on something someone once told her. Which totally qualifies her to be president.

Rick Perry and Ron Paul can both have strong appeal with the pro death penalty faction of the pro life party, especially if failure to procure health insurance results in death.

And Mitt Romney. State-run health insurance exchanges and health care reform that includes mandated purchasing and government assistance for those in need are the best things ever! (Unless the idea was suggested by Team Donkey.)

And Joe Biden is still our vice president.

On the bright side, Kardashians are still on the air.

We're doomed.

Gratitude

Dear God,

Thank you for so many of your most brilliant creations, like nachos and bacon and college basketball, but thank you most of all for beautiful fall days in Lawrence, Kansas. The clean blue sky gift-wrapped sunshine on my shoulder and happy all around.

Keep up the great work,
Julie


Dear Tylenol and Advil,

Thank you for your collective efforts that finally brought Luke's fever down after three very long days. You made it possible for me to breathe outdoor air again.

I hope I don't have to see you again for a very long time.

Sincerely,
Julie


Dear Birkenstocks,

Thank you for relieving my poor, cramping, seizing feet from their stint last night in peep-toe heels. For, darling as they were, they have left me hobbling like the elderly woman I am quickly becoming. But you, blue paisley Birks, saved the day, allowing me to book it up and down Mass Street on my own personal shopping day.

Amen,
Julie


Dear Downtown Lawrence,

Thank you for being a place where stoners and socialites, vanilla and rocky road, $1 draws and top shelf bottles, boutique stores and my credit card can live in perfect harmony, providing incentive to get the f off Facebook and enjoy this gorgeous fall day.

I'll be back,
Julie


Dear Evening Rain,

Thank you for smelling like a freshly extinguished candle and cooling off my sweaty face. You swept over our city majestically and closed the curtain on this excessively perfect fall day.

Please do not return until after tomorrow's KU game,
Julie

Evidence

The September 5th River City Jules details my bad fashion over the years. To supplement this, I am offering some proof.

That poor little child in the red sweater with the precision-cut bangs and soft, face-framing layers originally asked for the Dorothy Hamill, but her mom told her that was out of style. Luckily her baby brother could always be counted on to wear an actual bowl on his head, detracting from her own.

I grew out the haircut in time for my well-intentioned mom to administer the worst home perm ever in the history of home perms, somewhat offset by my Easter (egg) dress. The pearls are real, as is my hair color. This girl is a looker!

The Interventionist, Kari, with Caroline after First Communion. Note the fashionably layered scarf over the necklace, the smooth never-frizzy hair, and the waistline hidden behind her elbow. My awkward phase? 32 years. Kari's? 15 minutes. Growing up with Kari was awesome.