A Girl...

Net Distress

Sorry I’ve been such a sucky blogger this week, but aside from being busy at work (not that that ever stopped me) and staying home sick on Wednesday, we’ve had a spotty internet connection in the office all week, which makes it impossible to get online long enough to post (but somehow not impossible to get online long enough to leave know-it-all advice (solicited and not) on everyone’s blogs and also to download all those cool designs linked to over at El Dooce. Result: All the time I usually waste at work blogging has been spent fiddling with some photos from last weekend, e.g.:

Which reminds me that this site is overdue for a redesign.

Which reminds me that my thematic Dick&Jane banner probably won’t jive so well with the whole decayed and distressy look. (Or maybe it will...)

Which reminds me that CHANGE IS BAD, and You can’t go home again, and all that usual crap, but hey, I’m a new woman—who jogs! and doesn’t bite (most) of her fingernails for the first time in the history of her fingers! and gets up early of her own accord!—so maybe it’s time to SCREW CONSISTENCY and abandon the whole D&J storybook look and go for something a little more, uh…27, because that’s how old I will be in less than two months and oh, the agony.

All of which reminds me of why I need to live in a huge mansion: so each of my fifty rooms can have a different decorating style to fulfill my need to have every available option all at once all the time. There will be the Victorian Room and the Zen Room and the Circus Room and the Alpine Lodge Room and the Music Room and the Martini Lounge and the Hi-Tech Room and the Jacuzzi Room and the Colonial Room and the Jungle Room and the Shakespeare Room and the Edwardian Room and the Leather Fetish Room and the Fairy Princess Room and you get the idea. Unless I have a room specified for every last little whim, I’ll never find a place to put this, and I really really really want to make one.

Close parentheses!)

In News of the Everyday, the world as I know it continues to ROCK ME TO THE CORE (in a good way), and when I look at Simon I still SEE MY SOUL SHINING BACK AT ME. Our relationship continues to grow and progress and, in most cases, continues to move in the right direction—toward that point at which I will no longer have to hold my breath about Certain Things. (There is an inaugural trip to the spa involved, which then begs the question: Naked or Not Naked?, and before you answer I should clarify that I’ll be in the company of Simon’s mother and sister (hi, Mel!), the latter of whom I might very well meet for the first time while wearing a bathrobe and sipping cucumber water and wondering if I should have pre-tweezed and pre-plucked and pre-shaved and pre-polished and pre-exfoliated so I’m not a disgusting mess in my semi- or complete and utter nudity.)

Which reminds me that this is why we get invited to parties: