“The feeling of sleepiness when you are not in bed, and can’t get there, is the meanest feeling in the world.” ~Edgar Watson Howe
You are out of your crack high brains if you thought I was going to be posting anything worthwhile this week. In fact I bet that crack is so good that Bobby Brown is currently stalking you and wants to be your new BFFE. Had I not been contractually obligated to put words on a page and/or go to work in something other than Purely Naked, then I would have spent the entire week laying on the floor of my office with The Boss playing in the background giving myself a manicure while Anthony Bourdain feeds me an eel and avocado roll. If it were a movie it would be called “There Will Be Wine”.
I have an extensive end of the summer post coming about how much I’ve learned this summer and grown both inside and um, outside. And about how at the end of July I got so depressed that I seriously contemplated jumping into the Nantucket Sound head first but then I’m glad I didn’t because therapy and Lexapro work. Also something about how the end of the summer love fest that will be come to a close with several of my favorite people has made me realize the importance of having wonderful friends in my life and how I’m glad they accept me for being the drunk, manic-depressive that I am. It will be beautiful. You’ll laugh, you’ll cry, you’ll take pity on me and send me the greatest Gewurtzraminer that money can buy.
For a person with a brain that is currently shriveled up to the size of a frozen pea that has been found under the stove after 17 months with fuzz that the cat has chewed up; I am impressed by the amount that I was able to write this week. I mean a person with a brain in that state should be lucky to be able to open both eyes at the same time. I was able to open both eyes and type. It was a Labor Day miracle.
At BlogHer there is not one but two entire posts. One about my unwavering love for Hillary Rodham Clinton and the other about how my blog life and real life has come together and how anytime someone mentions “blog” in my presence other than via the Internet, I pretend to go deaf in one ear . At MamaPop I wrote about 90210. All I have to say about that is a hearty Oh My Fucking Hell. Aaron Spelling is rolling over in his grave right now at the travesty of that pure piece of bull shit. The entire thing caused me to foam at the mouth a little.
And that concludes what I’ve been up to this week past week. Discussing depression and foaming at the mouth and typing furiously. I am currently downstate, celebrating Sarah Brown and tonight celebrating the Giants. Tomorrow is pay day and this is the first time in 16 months that I can say that after last week, I’ve earned every damn cent of that check. I plan on going to J Crew and licking their display of cashmere sweaters.
14 Comments
I had to Google ‘Gewurtzraminer’. I’m so ashamed. *lol*
I need both avocado/eel roll (my very favorite, by the way) and an end-of-summer love fest. Glad you’re getting one, and go buy yourself the other. Cram into pie hole with liberal amounts of wine and all is well.
can you take my 7-year-old with you to lick the cashmere at jcrew? it’s all she’s talking about these days…
People need to remember that 90210 is a show for TEENS, not adults who watched the original.
And also it is no worse than the original. It is the same plot.
They had me when that scruffy teacher saw Andrea’s daughter on TV and he said “What, is she like 30?” That was brillant!
We do have AWESOME Gewurtzraminer here in Oregon. Perhpaps I shall send you some.
Gewurtztramier – I like it dry. Try the Claiborne & Churchill (they are the loveliest people) or the Gundlach Bundschu.
Why are you celebrating the San Francisco baseball team, again? (I crack myself up!)
Looking forward to the end-of-summer post!
And once? I had a server pronounce Gewurtzraminer, . I ordered a glass just so I could say Jee-worst-ramen-himer.
I love you more every day. You know that right? Anthony Bourdain is dreamy as fuck.
I loved your 90210 post. You have all the best writing gigs. Now come visit… or else.
Damn. I just wanna be you.
Please lick some cashmere for me. Make it lavender, just for the hell of it.
Was just reaidng your 90210 review.
…lesson in race relations. On the lacrosse field.
You crack me up. But I think I’m still gonna have to see for myself. Kinda like the time that guy from my hometown claimed the face of Jesus was on his barn door.
I would suggest less licking and more erotic rubbing. Cashmere tends to stick to the tongue, and it’s almost impossible to adequately hork that fine fuzz out of the back of your throat.
Since you mentioned Bobby Brown, I have to ask if you’ve watched this reality television show he is on right now with Marcia Brady? If not, you should try to catch it on VH1. You know, if you like to watch trainwrecks and such.
I just read the post you wrote about your blog life and real life colliding, and you really hit the nail on the head. I’m constantly debating whether to publicize my blog or not. And by publicize I don’t mean anything major – just things like, “should I put my blog address on my facebook profile?”
I asked a friend what she thought I should do, and she responded by saying she didn’t know, because while some people’s blogs are just used for updates on their kids and whatnot, mine (like yours, although not as coherent) is an odd combo of frivolous rambling and “window to my soul”.
And so…yeah, I’m still on the fence about this one. This was all a long way of saying that I appreciated your perspective on it.