I’m in Bethlehem. No, not the one in the middle east with Baby Jesus and all. Bethlehem, Pennsylvania. Why are you in Bethlehem, you ask?
I’m asking myself the same thing. Is it so I can turn the dial to any station and hear every 80’s song I ever loved (“I don’t know where you’ GOING, and I don’t know WHYYYYYY. Listen to your HEARRRRRRRT before he tells you GOODBYYYYYYEE!”)? Is it so I can hear an inordinate amount of stations playing harpsicord music (3)? Is it because I wanted to stock up on hotel bottles of Suave (pronounced Swayve) shampoo? Is it because, after spending 3 1/2 hours in a class trying to learn how to turn www.babybrewing.com into a PRETTY website, I wanted to drive 211 miles to stay in a Best Western (thanks for the jacuzzi suite upgrade, Rich. It’s just I’m scared to get into the tub)? Is it because I was dying to get away from my offspring–the toddler who has decided that he will only take a nap on 600 thread count sheets on Mom’s bed, if Mom is lying beside him, not doing absolutely ANYTHING except occasionally breathing, with said toddler’s permission?
Dear Lord, I have lost what is left of my mind. I came to Allentown, actually, to pick up my brand spanking new screen printer and to learn how to use it. In preparation for the class, Mark asked me to describe my skill level with screen printing.
Uh, I pick out crappy fonts?
My sister thinks this is a bloody brilliant idea. She thinks it will be as much fun as having your own helium tank.
I don’t know if anything can actually compete with a helium tank. But I’ll let you know. Post all your favorite ideas for sayings–I’m branching out to expectant fathers, new mothers, rotten children and bloggers. And Vloggers (I couldn’t forget you, Bekah!). So let me know. If I pick your idea, I’ll send you a shirt.
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