There has to be words between us, always, as I’d wither away without them. I’m already nervous about your going to Korea and blogging in another language and attending tea with KJL, who will Look at Things. Oh, sure, you’ll allegedly be far from the barbed-wire border, in some Korean version of Hawaii, but let’s never underestimate the dear leader. That would be a fatal mistake. Here I feel like we need to picture Sh@wn W@llace in “TPB,” expounding on such matters. Although it’s not actually inconceivable, is the thing.
J.Lo’s party was a success. He did not go as the real J.Lo, who, did you see? is now doing Venus commercials. Like the same sellout brand of razor that lured Jewel over to The Dark Side. It’s just not okay. We can allow the mini car commercial, but the razors, the fake singing at the fake concert in the gold dress, “I’m your Venus/I’m your fire?” Really? I guess M@rc @nthony is demanding alimony. Is the only thing I can figure.
Anyway. Here are pictures of our rock-star awesomeness as P!nk and Barry Effin’ Gibb. Should I go full time with a nose ring? In non-allergenic niobium? Oh wait, that would cost money. And pain.
Speaking of pain, after the weekend, my entire right thigh was covered in bruises. No idea. Because mysterious bruises have occurred my whole life, but I really don’t remember that moment of “AGH! That is going to leave a mark.” Like walking into a coffee table or something. But my purse was full with a book and a camera amongst other things and did happen to fall flush with the largest bruise. So that’s the only thing I’ve come up with. The constant thwacking of purse against leg. As J.Lo noted, “Either way, you’re weird.”
And it’s a good thing the weekend was so fun and fabulous (rock stars! birthdays! goodfood! wicked beach house! AshMelTom!). Because the rest of the week has been craptastic. At least until Thursday afternoon or so, when my life-sucking cold finally started to go away. And my bad luck streak began to ebb. Summation:
-pulled over by Mayberry officer. had pink hair and barking dogs in back seat at time. didn’t have inspection sticker for “the state of Vuh-ginia.” because I’m stupid.
-frantically ran errands/quested for said sticker the next day. battery died. J.Lo summoned to rescue. new battery acquired. irony of sticker-questing/timing noted.
-sticker could not be acquired until forking over big wad o’ cash for new brake pads. not happy with predatory-type service in which they attempted to extract even larger wad of cash. I hate that.
-cold progressed, virus coursing through veins, total sapping of energy
-the Crazy is back, apparently every 3 weeks now. I don’t want to talk about it.
-calendar is absurdly full, too full. no introvert recovery time. emotional energy meter flashing bright red. due for recharge.
However, there’s a sculpey Jesus in the making and a magnetized wall for kids’ artwork being planned. (Because I can’t find my desk again. Covered. In things.) Recharge time not exactly imminent but on the horizon. And more words. More words. More words…
pinky punky pen