It don’t mean a thing
If it ain’t got that swing.

I
My hair is just enough shorter after yesterday’s salon visit that the ends flip up (a la Marlo Thomas in That Girl, but not quite so extreme) and there’s movement and lightness around my face. It was getting to the point where it was too heavy and didn’t move, and was dragging me down in more ways than one.

II
The tree is finally finished, and we used all but one ornament, after all. I had minions to help in the last stages, which is good because I can’t reach the top, even on the stepladder. I had to move some so that they dangled properly…the hobby horses and dancers especially…but it’s done, and it’s lovely.

III
My soundtrack for the day, aside from different #MusicAdvent selections, has been Seth MacFarlane’s Holiday for Swing, which I heard about through Brent Spiner’s twitter feed and then checked out on Rhapsody (because yes, I still use Rhapsody…it works better for me than Spotify or Pandora). I like big band, and the Great American Songbook – all those lovely, deliciously singable songs, and I highly recommend this album, which is available pretty much everywhere.

IV
As I posted on Twitter yesterday, never take melatonin when you intend to take migraine meds. And absolutely never take two. I’ve been loopy for 24 hours. Bonus: I slept amazingly well last night.

This entry is sponsored by the word ‘swing,’ the letter ‘H,’ and the number 14. Or maybe I just don’t have a filter.

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