Yes, I know, I haven't been around much. But you can always count on me to show up on Tuesdays, right? And I can always count on you guys to show up too?
If you're new here, well, never mind the apologizing for not posting much. This is how much I always post. Really. You should continue to have such low expectations of me. And the Tuesday thing is a kind of excuse to write posts that would fall apart without the purple button to hold them together. Get your button and get random, now.
A few of you have emailed to ask me where the hell I've been and if I'm okay. I think that's just about the sweetest thing ever, next to my son saying "I love you", which he hasn't said yet, so I guess that does make it the sweetest thing ever. Isn't it strange how we can care about people we've never met face-to-face? But I'm glad you guys do, it makes me feel all warm and fuzzy. And I'm still here, and I'm fine. I'll be back at it soon, I'm starting to find the Funny again.
It irks me that I've been eating no red meat, no sugar, no dairy and no wheat for a month now and I haven't lost a single fucking pound. Losing weight isn't the point, I know, but it's not the point that it's not the point. I should have lost something.
(Other than my will to live, that is.)
The sad part of this is that I don't actually know who Aimee Mann is.
Yesterday we had Fashionista over for brunch, yummy waffles and eggs, and hubby brought me flowers back when he ran across to the store. Then we had a group nap (with benefits in the grownups room, ahem) and I did some yoga while hubby took the toddler out to pick up food. We lazed around after dinner, watched some tv, and I drew a little bit.
So, yeah. A perfect day. I've pretty much achieved Nirvana. I'm done now, do I ascend to a higher plane of consciousness or something? Follow this white light over here?
My bathroom is still not finished.
According to my 2 Week Resolution Project, which I have totally not been keeping up with, this week I'm supposed to be eating one weird foreign food a day for your amusement. In that spirit, I cruised the "not labelled in English" aisle at the supermarket this morning, only to find that while they're not labelled primarily in English, pretty much everything did have a translation. Which kind of defeats the purpose.
So, looks like I'm venturing into the "unidentifiable bird corpses in the window" store territory for this little project. Wish me luck.
I read this mediocre detective novel today which was obviously one of a series. It was entertaining enough, although it had a bad habit of plowing through major plot points quickly and dispassionately. The protagonist was a pretty standard, female detective with a rough past who finally finds The One, and he sees past all her faults and they are instantly smitten, and feel like they have known each other forever, blah blah blah. Somewhere in there she solves the case. I assumed that all of the novels in the series were similar, except that apparently you wouldn't want to read this particular one first, because completely out of the blue, the protagonist is attacked and put into a coma. And rather than making the standard miracle recovery so she can live a long and fulfilling life with her true love, she dies.
I am so mad that I slogged through that completely average book, only to be robbed of the expected happy ending. I feel like I should write a letter to the author, or something. If you're going to churn out mediocre detective novels, at least stick with the fucking script, ok?
Nobody dies in my mediocre novel. Nobody does anything, actually, because I stopped writing it. At least I left the characters in a good place. (I think it was a pub.)
Maybe I'll go check. Want to get random? Get your button while it's hot! Link up, and visit a few other participants and give them warm fuzzies. It's the least you can do.*
*Actually, the least you can do is nothing. But it'd be nice if you hit a few links anyway.