“Life is a great big canvas, and you should throw all the paint on it you can.” ~Danny Kaye
Earlier today I became thoroughly and shockingly annoyed over the apathy of others. I demanded response and some sort of commentary to a new Obama administration appointment and instead no one shared the joy, wonder, curiosity and overwhelming amount of giddiness that erupted upon hearing of a thisclose vacancy in the United States House. As much as I dislike apathy towards politics I find my reaction to the apathy a bit deplorable. Who am I to be judgemental and tell people that they should care about Sonia Sotomayor or John McHugh? Why should I be the one to tell others that how a presidential candidate feels about a woman’s right to choose or Plessy v. Ferguson will end up impacting generations? That isn’t my job and yet the way it maddened me today. It was so…well…it was unnecessary. And I totally take back when I said – behind your back – that if Neil Patrick Harris was giving someone a blow job on my bed then you would care more than who Obama was appointing to very high powered positions. I’m sorry.
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On Sunday evening – pre the day of self righteous bitch ass behavior – I burned three of my fingers on my right hand. I burned them after I put METAL into the microwave so I could make tea because I couldn’t find my normal tea making accouterments. So there I was grabbing hot metal, fleshy fingers first out of the microwave. Good news is that in the event that I commit a serious felony I have no finger prints. Bad news is that I’m using the hunt and peck method when it comes to typing. There’s also a ruined manicure and my father was rather disappointed by my Vulcan salute because my fingers are so effed up that I can’t tell anyone to ‘live long and prosper’ with the proper enthusiasm.
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I think I’ve spent the last three weeks without telling you that I’ve started writing at MamaPop again. I’m…and I’m loathe to admit this so I’m taking deep breaths but it’s not nearly as bad as Holly crying during Speidi’s wedding so I really shouldn’t care…..I’m doing recaps of The Real Housewives of New Jersey(1, 2, 3). And I fucking love it more than is appropriate. Especially that Caroline. The Carmela Soprano of the group who will fuck a bitch up in a minute.
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I leave for DC again next week. I’ll have to update my suggestions but that is the least of my worries right now. I keep flipping through my paper planner to July and then I flip back. I then I look at July again and then I flip back. Rinse and repeat. It’s because I need a Klonopin every time I think of July. The running around and the multiple experiences with TSA and how I’m going to pack and the number of tattoos I will be getting and suddenly I’m awake at 2:30AM thinking about standing by myself at BlogHer because EVERYONE HATES ME.
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Last night I lived my worst fear: I saw my therapist at the bar. I’m not really supposed to be drinking. We pretended not to know each other. Let’s just say I’ll have some ‘splaining to do about that goblet full of (shitty) Meritage.
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I’m posting now in hopes that tomorrow comes sooner. I’m awaiting a special package at the suggestion of Karen and OMFG I cannot wait to show you guys and also I owe Karen a kiss. And this chick needs some practice like whoa.
7 Comments
I’m terrified of BlogHer. So I can stand “alone” with you? We don’t have to speak or anything. But then we won’t be alone.
Come find me. I’ll be hiding in the bathroom.
So what is the protocol here? I love love love your blog and, of course, love seeing you all around the internet. BUT, do I risk bothering you and introducing myself next month at BlogHer or do I slink away (like last year) because you have no reason to know who I am (our blog is tiny tiny tiny and I am an OLD person)? I never know what to do and last year? I started WAY too many awkward conversations and I’d like to not do that again this year. What to do?
I’m planning on writing another ‘So it’s BlogHer and It will go just as you won’t expect’ post. For now; of course you can come up to me. In fact I met a friend of mine because she didn’t come up to me and I get pissed and well long story short, I’m mean and please just say hi to people. That’s the point. I won’t bite. Promise.
For fear of justifying your frustration at folks who dwell more on Speidi than Sotomayor; I have to say Caroline is the shiznit. I want to drink shots of whiskey with her and hear her tell stories about staff they had to ‘let go’ from The Brownstone. I think she chews rocks and spits out diamonds. She rules!
1. Apathy sucks.
2. I don’t care if you DO bite me, I’m approaching you. Actually, I may not even mind the biting.
3. I once didn’t go to class, well…because I just didn’t feel like it, then I ran into my professor at GAP. Have you ever been on the receiving end of a death glare from an economics prof while holding khaki pants? I have.
nobody puts Heather B in a corner.
You’re so funny. Like you’d be standing alone. Standing along by the bar, maybe. But I will be close by then, making you talk to strangers, because I know how much you love that!
And then we’ll go to Bin 36 and drink 17 flights of wine again! This time, we try the cheese bar.
Oh wait, this post wasn’t even about BlogHer.
I will say something relevant – I just finally caught up on RHONJ and I LOVE IT! I’m going to buy the book that crazy Danielle is in.