Poor little neglected, abandoned blog. It’s like I’ve tossed you on the side of a lonely road to fend for yourself, starving and ill and desperate for care. And then, in the wilderness, while looking for a soft place to fall, you were viciously attacked by a rabid wereraccoon and turned into a slavering beast with unnatural, unquenchable thirsts.
Ok, so maybe not that last part.
For those of you in Bloggoland who don’t know me on Facebook (oh, you unfortunate few), here’s what I’ve been up to. If you care. Which, why would you, since I’ve run off and forgotten about this place and only deign to post occasionally, when the mood strikes. (And, Jesus, how pathetic that I can bring myself to Facebook [oh, and is that a verb now?] but can’t be bothered to blog.)
January 12, 9:55 am: I was gently chastised by a lovely British man over the holiday for using the word “awesome” inappropriately and cheapening its value as a designator for true, gut-punched awe. But, dude, that truffle cheese really WAS awesome. Grand Canyon awesome.
January 14, 10:11 am: I’m disturbed that people I went to school with now hold positions of power. Who the hell are we kidding?
January 14, 11:34 am: I don’t, haven’t, and never will watch American Idol. Even if I wanted to (which I most certainly do not), I couldn’t now. It’s the principle of the thing. I will, however, watch So You Think You Can Dance and make ridiculous shrieking-with-glee sounds.
January 14, 12:51 pm: Is it weird that I’m considering “Rimbaldi fluid green” as a wedding color? I think Arvin Sloane would be pleased. (It’s possible we might be watching too much Alias.)
January 15, 10:50 am: Today I’m running with the philosophy that sleeping is for chumps. Who needs sleep? Not me, man, I’m on fire. I’m raring to go. I’m energized, y’all. See this work on my desk? It’s gonna get done, and I mean D-O-N-E done. I’m awake, let’s go, let’s go, let’s…zzzzz.
January 15, 6:31 pm: Mmmm… bourbon.
January 19, 925 am: You people with your baking and cleaning and working out saving the world status updates aren’t fooling anyone. You’re eating Mallomars and wearing a dingy sweatshirt and watching reruns of Magnum PI, aren’t you? Please say you are.
January 20, 3:17 pm: If I weren’t so sure that being bored makes you boring I’d admit to being bored.
January 21, 3:00 pm: Oh, hello Indian food from lunch. You’re still hanging around? What’s that? You say you’ll be here FOREVER? They should really put a warning on the menu. Not that it would stop me. Mmmmm… naaaaaaan.
January 22, 11:31 am: I’m a little concerned that every time I take the Myers-Briggs Type Indicator I’m “typed” as something different. This means I’m a Sybil, doesn’t it? Damn. (Most recently, ENFP.)
January 25, 1:32 pm: Today I’m glad I don’t live on the set of “You Can’t Do That on Television” because I don’t know anything. Hah! No slime. (Alasdair, I’ll always love you.)
January 25, 3:55 pm: Hey, time? I’ll give you a cookie if you’ll speed up until 5.
January 26, 7:28 am: I woke myself up this morning by biting my own arm. Hard. Musta been some dream.
January 26, 6:12 pm: Pandora just played “Julie” by Merrill Bainbridge. Well, hello moody angst memories from 1995. Have you missed me? Because I sooooo haven’t missed you. Now gimme back my babydoll dresses.
January 27, 9:28 am: Pretty sure the internet hates me today. Or it ate too much and is feeling bloated and sluggish. Stupid gluttonous internet.
January 28, 9:27 am: Hey, People of Facebook: Stop being so dadgum vague with your status updates. If I wanted to read a mystery I’d pick up a Raymond Chandler. Or a Richard Castle. Whichever. Either way my point is spill it!
January 28, 12:24 pm: Oh, Etsy, you vile temptress. How you do entice me.
January 29, 9:21 am: I’d participate in Doppelgänger week, but I’m far too unique, apparently. Pale imitations of my awesomosity abound.
January 31, 11:59 am: Scariest movie I’ve seen in a long, long time: Band of Brothers.
February 1, 8:23 am: Et tu, alarm clock?
February 1, 12: 18 pm: Overheard while thrifting this weekend (three annoyingly loud [and shockingly thin] college girls in preparation for their first Rocky Horror Picture Show): “Well, I don’t know, but there’s, like, a singing alien? And lots of lingerie. And this weird house where everything happens. Just find something hot.”
February 1, 4:57 pm: My stomach needs to stop talking to me in Charlie Brown’s teacher’s voice. I can’t understand a word it’s saying. Except that part where it sounded a bit like, “Curse you and your Mexican food predilection!”
February 2, 12:10 pm: Don’t hate me because I have a new 30″ Cinema HD display monitor. Oh, wait. Yeah. You can go ahead and hate me.
February 2, 2:09 pm: If you and I woke up in jail together, I’d construct a vicious shiv out of a toothbrush to protect us. Then I’d lecture you on the evils of dragging your friends into your fiendish schemes involving forgery, stealing the Winged Victory of Samothrace, and some guy named Knut Biggerstiff.
26 minutes ago: So, wait. Lost is still on TV? But they canceled Deadwood. And Rome. And Pushing Daisies. And The Tick. And freaking Firefly. Curse you, Hollywood. I thought Lost jumped the shark, or the polar bear, or whatever.
So, see? I’m still alive. I still have completely unimportant things to say. I’m just not saying them here.


