And so, I had Botox...

...and it wasn't as horrible as I thought it would be.

I didn't want Botox.

I didn't ask for Botox.

The whole thought of forcibly injecting botulism into my head didn't sit well with me.

I was medically ordered to get an injection of Botox for an issue I had with my eye.  My eye isn't really doing it anymore.  Robynn: 1; Botox: 1.  Tie game.  Better than me stapling my eyelid to my forehead.

Hm. Signs I Might Drink Too Much.

1. My guy at the liquor store notices when I change my hair.

2. I have a "guy at the liquor store".

3. I have actually uttered the phrase, "excuse me, Liquor Store Man, can you direct me to your cheap, inferior jugs of red wine?"  In my defense, it was Christmas Eve, I'd already had to wait in line for 20 minutes to get into the store, and I was going to a party where although everybody is required to bring a bottle of cheap swill to go into the communal mulled wine pot, past experience has indicated that $7 is evidently outside the budgetary restrictions of most patrons even though they can't resist the deliciousness.  (Read: Last year we ran out of wine and The Husband had to trudge home through the snow to retrieve more.  This year we brought 6L just in case.  And yes, we actually had snow in Vancouver last year.  We did this year too for about 20 minutes.)

4. All the ads on my blog are about livers for some reason.

I wonder why.