I need to overhaul this blog. It's grown so cluttered. Everyone tells me I should migrate off Typepad to something else, and I really like Squarespace, which I used to build The Writers Place's new website, but the thought of spending all that time recreating something (not to mention I have zero funds for such an endeavor) is completely too intimidating. So I'm going to be hacking away here a little bit to see if I can dust off the spiderwebs.

When I started blogging, I knew about Internet publishing from a words perspective, but nothing about the technical aspects. When I started working at BlogHer, I realized I needed to teach myself HTML. Then I started hacking all sorts of stuff on this blog in my sidebars to the point I'm not sure if any of the original code even exists anymore. It's the same approach I take with gardening: Stick some stuff in there and see if it grows into things it's not supposed to. If so, rip it out and start over.

Last weekend, I ripped out everything but two cherry tomato plants, because it's going to frost soon and I can't stand to wake up to the little frozen wilted bodies of flowers and vegetable plants. My vegetable plants die young and beautiful. 

So if there are any categories you wish were beefed up or navigation you wish existed, let me know in the comments. I'm going to be updating best of, but I don't know which posts to put there. Any suggestions are appreciated! Stay tuned.

So the Arens family had some craptastic bad luck at the end of last week. And some really good luck at the beginning of this week, but the good luck isn't really good enough to offset the bad luck, it's just nice. And I don't really think it's time to talk about either one of these things that are all my mind can wrap itself around.

We could use prayers, mojo, fairy dust, vibes and whatever else you can throw at us right now.

Ireland, by Peter Cox.

It’s the end of summer, which means everyone’s hair istotally sun-and-chlorine-fried. Right? Right. If you read this blog much, youknow my hair is about two inches long, so I don’t have much to worry about interms of fried hair because I cut the ends off every five weeks. But I happento have someone here with slightly longer hair.

So when BlogHer asked if I wanted to review some Dove DamageTherapy conditioner, I said, um, YES.

My girl went to summer camp and they took her swimming threetimes a week, after which she had chlorine in her hair all day and into theevening when I finally got the opportunity to scrub it out. On top of that, wehad swimming lessons one night a week and I insisted on all of us immersingourselves in cool, soothing water every weekend of this record-heat Missourisummer. Suffice it to say, my poor child’s hair – despite washing it every dayshe was in chlorine – was FRIED.

Now it looks like this.

Now, it wasn’t all due to the Dove Conditioner – I also hadthree inches cut off and began using a clarifying shampoo on her once a week –but I do think the conditioner is helping a lot. I am not kidding you – youcould fold her hair in half and it would stay before we started rehydrating it,and now it is very quickly approaching soft after one haircut, two clarifyingshampoos and two weeks of Dove Damage Therapy Daily Moisture conditioner.  This conditioner is recommended for themiddle-of-the-road-my-hair-is-not-breaking-off-yet dryness that my girl wasexhibiting, and it’s done a decent job with its FIBER ACTIVES, whatever thoseare – they work!

Now, as usual, I want you to win something. This time the sweepstakes is for a $1,000 Spafinder gift card. That is a LOT of money for product. I think I could replace all my hair with that much money. How much are extensions, anyway? And there's a coupon, too, so win/win.

All you need to do to be entered is go to the link below and answer this question: How do you prevent chlorine damage during the summer?

Enter to win a $1,000 Spafinder gift certificate!

NO PURCHASE NECESSARY

COMMENTS TO THIS POST ARE NOT SWEEPSTAKES ENTRIES. PLEASE SEE BELOW FOR ENTRY METHODS FOR THIS SWEEPSTAKES.

You may receive (2) total entries by selecting from the following entry methods:

a) Follow this link, and provide your email address and your response to the Promotion prompt

b) Tweet (public message) about this promotion; including exactly the following unique term in your tweet message: "#SweepstakesEntry"; and then visit this link to provide your email address and the URL to that Tweet.

c) Blog about this promotion, including a disclosure that you are receiving a sweepstakes entry in exchange for writing the blog post, and then visit this link to provide your email address and the URL to that post.

This giveaway is open to US Residents age 18 or older. Winners will be selected via random draw, and will be notified by e-mail. Winners will have 72 hours to claim the prize, or an alternative winner will be selected.

The Official Rules are available here.

This sweepstakes runs from 9/4/2012 - 9/30/2012

Be sure to visit Dove^®Hair.com to get a coupon for $1.50 off Dove Hair Therapy products.

[Editor's Note: I hesitate to even write this because it will confirm my mother's suspicions that black helicopters follow you everywhere on the Internet. But I feel compelled to share in case you live in fear of identity theft and have a good bank.]

The other day I was trying to withdraw money to throw away on overpriced food at the Royals game when the ATM machine was all I don't think so and spit an 800 number at me. We tried Beloved's card and it went through just fine. After a quick call to Bank of America, I learned that my account was restricted because of unusual use. 

As much as I have complained and hated on Bank of America, I have to admit they have a killer fraud department. This is the second time they have caught someone trying to use my card before any money escaped. Someone made a $1 charge at a hotel in another state and immediately reversed it, then a few hours later bought something for less than $30 on the Internet. That is how identity thieves take a test bite of you before annhilating your account. 

As a result, I haven't been able to use my debit card since Saturday. I need to get a new one. But it was more fun to drag Beloved around with me to the grocery store and Walmart on Sunday with a huge pile of stuff and then smile sweetly and say thank you and run away when it was time to pay.

I do worry about identity theft, but I also realize it's impossible for me to move through life never using my cards. I remember when my sister lived in Oregon, she got her checks washed (I didn't even know that was a thing), and even that righted itself in time. So thank you, Bank of America, for being so on top of my checking account. Even though I hate your fees.

---

Speaking of shopping online, now that you're thoroughly either a) freaked out or b) feeling all nice and warm and safe, you may have noticed the little store I've got going on in my left rail. The folks at mphoria asked if I might like to make available some stuff for sale related to what I write about. If there is anything interesting in there, I may point it out from time to time. I don't pick everything, but I do pay attention. For example, there was a subscription to US Weekly and I asked them to remove it due to the whole misogynistic body bashing thing. I also asked for as much hardware and home improvement-related stuff they could get their hands on. The last time I looked, it contained a flashlight, "sleeping pants," water bottles and Harry Potter DVDs. If you buy something, I get a cut of some sort. Capitalism!

However, I don't know how I thought I'd be able to manage the pain without narcotics. So today is passing in a confusing haze of hydrocodon. But yay! More Mon.

So, my surgery is tomorrow. At long last, The Lump will be gone. I can't wait. But I also can't let my mind focus on anything other than work right now or I will start getting anxious. Back Friday!

There are two phantom boards in Chateau Travolta, one upstairs and one downstairs. They don't sound like all the other squeaky boards in this house: These sound like a sigh of disappointment.

I just stepped on one.

I found the one in the kitchen about a year ago. Initially, I thought it was Petunia making just the merest meow, but then I'd look around and find her nowhere near. Once I heard her jump off the bed seconds after the sigh and felt my skin crawl. I walked back and forth across that same expanse of kitchen for what seemed like ten minutes, trying to recreate the noise. It's difficult to do -- you have to step on it just right.

I didn't know about the one upstairs until today.

It sounds like someone who's just been told the house she grew up in was lost in a fire. Not a cry of desolation, nothing as dramatic as that, just the involuntary vocalization of a lost memory.

I wonder what Chateau Travolta has lost.

This morning I saw a post on BlogHer called "I've Never Had a Best Friend" by all.things.fadra. She wrote:

I used to get offended when I would meet people, especially people I really liked, and they would tell me about their “best friend back in Michigan” or the woman they’ve been friends with since the second grade.

I took it to mean: Hi. Nice to meet you. We can be friends but not that good of friends because that position has already been filled. And perhaps I stayed guarded in the friendship.

And I felt a pang, because I refer to my best friend in conversation as my best friend to people who don't know her and never mean to insinuate there's no more room in my heart for besties. 

In my case, I have a friend I've known since I was three years old. We've only not lived in the same metro area for two years of that 35-year period of time. When you know someone that long through so many phases of life, it's hard to compare it to any other friendship.

However.

It never occurred to me that my referring to her that way might drive away potential new friends. I've been blessed in my life to have had many friends who were the most active in my life at that moment and for whom I would go to great lengths to see or help. Some people -- whom I enjoy immensely -- I see in real life barely at all. Life at this juncture is so busy with the earning of money and the improving of still-clunky houses and the raising of children that it's a wonder I see anyone who doesn't live in my house or neighborhood ever. There are plenty of times when I'm free but they aren't or vice versa or it's just so dang hard to get off the ever-loving couch at the end of the day.

But every time I meet someone new, I look at them closely to see if we will be friends. I adore making new friends, new close friends, because friends are like your children -- your heart can make enough love for all of them, don't you think? You may not have enough time to see all of them every day or even every year, but your heart ... it doesn't get full. 

At least I don't feel that way.