A cutie, a cute skirt, and self imposed torture to make myself cute

These three things all happened between 5:15 and 6:15 yesterday evening, most newsworthy hour I've had in a while:

1. I saw the PMG randomly on the street. I did a cute little wave and said hello and asked how he was doing. He smiled and asked me how I was doing. Cut to me five seconds later, grinning like an idiot.

2. I went to H&M for the express purpose of buying a skirt that I saw in an ad so I could take it home and turn it into a mini skirt. I did it last night and it looks hot! Cut to me Friday night, wearing my hot new skirt.

3. Went to see my mean eyebrow waxer again. I had the privilege of spending half an hour of torture listening to Barbara Streisand/Celine Dion duets while my waxer chastised me for not plucking my eyebrows between visits (I believe her actual reaction was, "Wow.") and how she gives herself brazilians. Ouch. Also I was warned that if I pluck on particular hair, that she wants make sure grow, she will make things very painful for me next time. If I didn't look so good when I left I don't know if I could take it.