In which I search for Nolancey.

My dolly god apparently does not like me loving other dolls besides one specific line. For awhile I was lucky enough to find my MyScene crack without having to wait sixteen thousand years. It seems when I switched over to Pullips, all my MS luck died a fantastic death. With all the flaunting of the new MS dolls going on at the hangout, I thought I'd blow some cash [that I should be spending elsewhere] and attempt to snag me one of those newfangled Nolanceys. Or, y'know, anyone. I was craving a MS fix like I could not believe. After work yesterday, I sweet talked my way to Walmart where they had what they've had for the last five months; a whole buncha nothing. Well, actually, when they did get the Roller Girls in, they had plenty of everyone at the time, and either they sold, or they shoved most of them elsewhere. Thing is, Walmart believes in two schools of mark-down thought:
1) Everything must go, go, GO! This is awesome in general, but you have to be lucky enough to stumble across what you want before everyone else descends.
2) Shave a little off, slap a red sticker, and call it marked down. Great, so what was once totally overpriced is now just mostly overpriced. Meh.

Thus, Walmart was a bust. Came home, killed some time, and then set out on a beautiful day to the north area to check out our TRU. I should point out that I was fiiiiiiiine until some guy on the interstate made a HUGE effing deal about pointing to our tire and basically miming, "OMG! You're gonna DIE!" To which Mom was completely oblivious. So I spent the rest of the absolutely lovely drive trying to will the truck into not dying horribly. Which is a shame, because it's not often I get to appreciate a really bright, sunshine filled day where it's somehow not all that hot, despite it being summer. Sigh. I wish the hammock weren't in desperate need of someone to clean it.
So. TRU was also a bust on the new dolly front. Infact, most of the MS section was empty. Which I suppose could be seen as good, as I imagine this means sometime this CENTURY, they'll add more to it. Maybe. However, normally TRU is crawling with employees who seem to ask me every fifteen seconds, "Can I help you?" but they've either learned their lesson or yesterday they had more important things to do, as I couldn't find anyone to ask, "hey, got more shiny crack in the back?" Sigh. I know, you can't believe I would actually ask anyone anything, but it could have happened. However, I did eye the last two MBB Chelseas they had wistfully. They never really made it to clearance pricing and while some people will argue that $10 for a bathing suit doll won't kill a girl, I argue that it very well could. But I picked her up and carted her, JB Chelsea, and my Happy Bunny school supply set over to the price checker. Woo. One of 'em, I forget which, was less than six bucks and the other was around eight, I think. I bought them [and HB] and foolishly didn't take Foster's Home for Imaginary Friends [S1] with me, because Mom said we could go to the nearest Target, and I figured they'd friggin' have to have my Bloo fix.

Needless to say, I was wrong. So very, very, VERY wrong. I should point out that the local Targets have an impressive reputation, in that everyone wishes they could kill most of the people who work there. Not everyone, mind you, but most of them. Think of the most annoying and unhelpful retail people and then slap a red shirt on them. I won't say that all Targets are evil, but ours are. I chalk the closest one up to being so friggin' hot all the time. You know there's air conditioning because a) it's Charleston and b) some sections you can sort of feel it, but mostly it's hot as hell. However, they learned from their mistake and the other one doesn't have that problem as much. Yet the people there annoy the hell out of me.
I digress. The MS dolls were represented by one RC Roller Girl doll, who was on sale for $15. I thought about it and went off in search of Foster's. I tried their little display areas for various DVDs. Nope. I tried TV on DVD, which has absolutely no rhyme or reason. Nope. I tried the normal DVDs. Nope. Children s? Nope. No Fosters anywhere, and I couldn't even find a person to ask about it, and I was totally going to do so. Amazing. They'd been camped right in front of the new Bratz display so I couldn't even consider grabbing a Cat Jade without engaging the hyperactive and obviously ON something employees and now, now when I actually needed one of them for something, they'd all gone outside with the annoying little princess who thought it ever so cute to declare:
"So who is coming outside with me? You know the rules say that if the parking lot lights aren't on, someone has to have a budd-yyyyyyyyyyyyy." Over. And over. and OVER. Had I been able to see her when she was saying all this, I would have thrown one of the toys at her. I have surprisingly good aim when chucking things at pests from across the room.

By this point I was dying of thirst and I felt bad that Mom's HP book hadn't arrived so I was looking for any excuse to buy something shiny for me, so I could then buy HP and two drinks. Can I just point out how messed up it is that two bucks won't buy two drinks anymore? It's wrong, I tell you, wrong.

So, I brought my Chelseas home and had hoped to hit the local Target today, but the tire was apparently suffering from what we in the know call, a Giant Nail Embedded Within. Could have been from anywhere, but my money is on any of the numerous areas where the City has been working on the streets. Or my brother and his weird driving skills.

To round out my day, I attempted to teach the Widge the fine art of water balloon fights. He was really eager until I told him that traditionally one throws the balloon at the other person. "You're gonna throw that balloon at me?" Yes. Yes I am. I did try and point out that because people are generally more rounded than say, the house, it's possible it would bounce off and hit the ground before breaking, so thus it wouldn't hurt, but he was having none of this. With the Widge, it's difficult to figure out whether going ahead and tossing the balloon at him would make him throw a fullblown hissy fit, or if he'd realize it was fun and join in. So I waited and waited, and finally threw the balloon into the air where it landed on the house and exploded, soaking me in the process. Ooops. This cracked Widge up, but he never did throw a single balloon my way. I did feel free to chuck 'em at his feet though, and he giggled like mad. The only real problem with this was that the mosquitos were out in full force yesterday. I was spoiled as a child, as they never attacked me when I was little. Now they think I'm a heavenly feast.

I hadn't slept all day, so around nine thirty, I started feeling really, really, REALLY bad. So I ran to my room, didn't puke, curled up under my thermal blanket and quilt, and passed out with my glasses still on, positive that I would be up and running for the bathroom any second now... I woke up at ten this morning with my glasses still on. Weird.

Now, away I go to finish Harry...Dresden.