Ssssh, don't tell anyone, but I will soon have a largish supply of Xanax (generic) in my underwear drawer. Stop your bad self, it's not enough for YOU--Hoover, Drug Elf, Miss "Ooh I'm having a bad day", Druggie McGee, Medicine Cabinet Detective, Johnny Jim-Jams, and Xanax Charlie among you--and it's not really in my underwear drawer, anyway. It's in a super-secret location known only to those in my Super Secret Club, the Anxiety-Ridden Moms of Southern Westchester, LLC. I will bury it beneath my brussels sprouts if it stops your thieving, addictive behavior.
I also now own two new Lilly Pulitzer items (both on sale). One is on my body, and the other is in a super-secret location. Both are incredibly SHORT and make me happy that I have eaten salad for dinner for the last two months. I am starting to dream of big, juicy burgers.
Anyway, Lilly Pulitzer items send me into a mad frenzy. Their garish colors and ultra-cute silhouettes are like candy to me. I want to own them ALL, even the ones with horrid little monkey faces on them, or even little growly lions snarling above little lime-tinted turtles under trees infested with pink cockatoos. I might have to start a deeply bad eBay addiction because right now I own only 5 Lilly Pulitzer items and I need to own 567 of them.
Anyone who wants to send me some for my burfday is welcome. Size 6, please! They are expensive, and stupidly so. It's just a bunch of cotton and a titch of spandex with some garish tropical animals adorned on it. My burfday is a-comin' up. I will be real old.
Next, the minutes of the last meeting of the Anxiety-Ridden Moms of Southern Westchester, LLC.
Cookie; Pass the bowl of Xanax, please.
Miffie: Where's our kids, anyways?
Bunny: [unintelligable]...found some fun stuff under the sink!
Pookie: Oh drat, my hair's all in a tither.