This is a photo of my new workout tank top. Because…um…ah, well, “Don’t question me,” as Patsy would say. I also bought a neon pink sports bra that bleeds onto my clothing every time I sweat in it, which is every time I wear it, duh. I need to figure out how to remedy that situation without using vinegar–I can’t stand the smell!

What my nails looked like a few days ago. I need to get a matte-finish topcoat for my matte-finish polishes. Just thinking through blogging, don’t mind me! La tee dahhhhh…

Hi my name’s Liz and I’m a very very pale girl who likes the sun A LOT. I made an appointment to have a dermatologist inspect my skin in a couple of weeks, it’s about time. Very very pale people are supposed to have a mole check once a year.

What a coy little Cub! It kills me when she crosses her paws like this. We tag teamed and shaved all her fur off recently, even the tail–she is now a very shorn Cub. She was starting to scratch and lick again, and I really don’t feel like taking her to the vet for another round of skin problems. Oy. Mark my words: my next dog will be a short-haired dog.

Ta DAAAAAAH! Just look at it, will you? All these years that I’ve been whining and sniveling about needing a neon hammock, and there it is. It comes with a canopy too, but who wants that? GIMME SUN.

Here’s That Dude enjoying the hammock.

Last night for dinner I made us cheesesteak sandwiches–the first time I’ve cooked steak, EVER. I don’t mind it in small strips, smothered in cheddar cheese, evidently. Who knew? I also did the Elliptical trainer and walked the dogs and took a series of obnoxious self-portraits–pretty good for the first day of my period. That’s right, round #2 of Clomid = no babies. Siiiiiiigh. Pity me, please. I get one more chance, then it’s onto something more expensive. Fertility really should be covered by insurance.