I’m loath to admit this, so I’ll just say it really fast: Istartedwalkingthemall. THERE. Satisfied? I’M A DAMN MALL WALKER. It’s too icy and sidewalk-buried-y to take my usual outside routes, and let us not even speak of that torture device known as The Elliptical in the Basement. So I’ve moved to the mall, earlyish…
I know that fall is technically two weeks away. Yet I find myself already caught up in the paraphernalia of autumn, ready to toss my summer petunias for some nice, hardy pots of mums. I like it when plants are labeled “hardy,” since to me that translates to “You can completely forget about watering or…
One summer day, Mother and Daughter went for an impromptu swimming lesson at a family member’s pool. Afterward, flushed from the exercise and some yelling (AURA, YOU NEED TO LET GO OF ME! THE SWIM BUBBLE WILL HELP YOU FLOAT! IF YOU GRASP THE FRONT OF MY BATHING SUIT AND EXPOSE MY BREASTS ONE MORE…
(This is Mall Mishaps #2, not to be confused with Mall Mishaps #1, re: the Whorehouse That is Build-a-Bear Workshop.) Last week, desperate to look at anything besides the deluge that had quickly become the Great Flood of 2010, Aura and I headed over to the mall, that bastion of rainy-day escape. We spent a good chunk…
Miley Cyrus has gotten a lot of criticism for some recent choices, including certain navel-baring couture and that stint where she was writhing around a pole. However, after a recent visit to the mall, I’m thinking Build-A-Bear Workshop is actually responsible for the sluttification of America. That, and those little girls’ shorts with words emblazoned directly across…