This morning, I noticed that the color coating on my metal eyeglass frames had some little dings and chips in it. So, after work, I went to the optician and selected some new frames (Anna Sui) and ordered a new pair of glasses.

With the whole Passover and Easter holiday thing, they’ll be here in about 10 days. Still, that’s fine by me. Now I just have to find out how to file a claim for reimbursement through my work vision plan since I opted for funkier frames than the free ones included in the plan. I think I get reimbursed for more than half of the cost, so it should be all good.

(I just filled out the reimbursement form online in about 3 minutes. Tomorrow I’ll just photocopy my original receipt and mail it in along with a print-out of the form I just submitted online. How I love it when a plan comes together.)

It’s time to make a rather horrible admission: since last night, through this morning, the entire work day and even now, I have been captivated by a really kinda bad song. I hate to admit it. I do, I do. But sometimes, the worst songs musically are the catchiest. Britney Spears is a testament to this. Well-produced and fairly talentless. However, this might be worse than my short-lived “obsession” with the Britney Spears’ “Toxic” remixes. My poison right now…

The Pussycat Dolls’ “Don’t Cha” (Ralphi Rosario’s Hot Freak Mix). If it’s not that mix, I don’t care. I heard this one on an episode of that Bravo series “Blow Out” about a narcissistic hairstylist guru/entrepreneur. His sister is the founder or manager of the Pussycat Dolls and he was helping her audition a new “doll” and then styled her hair for her first show. The song they kept playing at the audition and which he then installed as a ring tone on his phone and played constantly throughout the episode was the Ralphi Rosario Hot Freak Mix of “Don’t Cha.” The lyrics aren’t particularly profound, but this mix of the song is 9 and a half minutes long, and really makes you want to STRUT or writhe or something. A portion of the lyrics:

I know you like me (I know you like me)
I know you do (I know you do)
Thats why whenever I come around shes all over you
And I know you want it (I know you want it)
It’s easy to see (it’s easy to see)
And in the back of your mind
I know you should be home with me

Dont cha wish your girlfriend was hot like me
Dont cha wish your girlfriend was a freak like me
Dont cha, dont cha
Dont cha wish your girlfriend was raw like me
Dont cha wish your girlfriend was fun like me
Dont cha, dont cha

Some of the funniest moments are the spoken words bits where the “lead Doll” speaks to the rest of “the dolls” saying (after lots of heavy breathing, sighing and moaning, “dolls… are you ready?… let’s dance…”, except that she pronounces “dance” as “day-ance.” It’s saucy. I’ll give them that. And I can’t get it out of my head. Usually, listening to a song several times dislodges it from my brain. Not so in this case.

Anyway - I started reading the newest Haruki Murakami this morning - “Kafka on the Shore.” I’m enjoying it tremendously and will probably re-read “The Wind-Up Bird Chronicle” after I finish this just to bury myself in his little world for a while.

This weekend, I might bleach out my color since it’s getting to the point where my ends are much darker than my roots… then after I’ve bleached out the color, I’ll color it back to a nice warm light golden brown. I think that might be a good way to go. I’ll have to stop by the beauty supply store and purchase the necessary chemicals and such. I don’t remember whether or not I have Easter Monday off… I don’t think I do, but I can take it as a floating holiday if I choose. Hrm. It might not be worth it. I can probably use that elsewhere.

Time to get into bed with a good book.