Done

How many times have you worked so hard at something and yet you can never seem to get it right?

You work work work and try try try and hope hope hope that this time will be the last time that you will feel so deflated and dumb.  Why can't you do it?  Why is it so hard?  It seems so easy for everyone else!?

So, here I am - a world wide web proclamation of the highest order on July 5th, 2012 - I AM DONE.

I am not attempting Wuthering Heights again.  I. Can't. Do. It.  I. Don't. Get. It.  I. Don't. Like. It.  I. Don't. Like. Them. 

John Irving, anyone?

A-ha ...

This is all there is, really. Right?

(I'll be back soon ... I swear it.)

Quotable - Part 16

"Holy Crap, this is so disgusting.  I can't wait to eat it."

                                                          Me.  Sunday June 10th, 2012. 
                                                          Self serve frozen yogurt places
                                                          with unlimited topping options
                                                          will be the death of me, I tell ya.

Forget Me Not

Hey!  A blog!  I have a blog!?

I know.  I know.  You thought I forgot.  You thought that my overriding fickleness and keep me interested all the time because I bore easily personality had finally gotten the best of me and this blog had finally gone the way of the dodo because, well, I'd had enough.

FAT CHANCE KIDDOS.

I'm just.  Well.  Uninspired in a fun way.  I loathe (said just like Madonna & her hydrangeas) being a Debbie Downer - don't get me wrong, I like complaining but not necessary complaining about me and my crap.  This is all I really feel like getting into these days and, honestly, who cares.  We've all got crap.  Who gives a shit about this crap.  Heh.  But you know what I mean.  We've all got those things that stress us and make us spastic crazy and cranky and borderline unbearable.   We've all got crap.  We all have to deal with it.  I usually deal with it by compartmentalizing it and trying to forget about it until such time as it rears its ugly head again.  Unfortunately, lately, there is no forget - it's just always there, permeating.  Now, truly, there is no need to worry about me and my crap.  This is - I'm beginning to realize - my new normal.  It's good.  Fine.  Like a social experiment on stress and how much a conscientious person can handle at any given time without going bat shit crazy.  Well, you know me - always up for a challenge so bring it on you crazy motherfucker of a life right now!  Bring it the fuck on!

Hmm.  As you can see, when I'm stressed I'm also a bit incoherent.  And - can you dig this? - I'm posting this without customary editing, warts AT ALL. Don't judge. I have too much to do.  I need to get back to it.  So you get me, just a me as a long winded ramble, typos at all.  Which, come to think of it is me in a nutshell:  a long winded, uncensored rambling fool.

Yeah.  I miss you all too.

xo.

Reprieve

That which does not kill us makes us stronger.

I'm as strong as I want to be.

Enough already.

Bottom's Up

My love affair with shoes is well known and documented.

My hate affair with fashion missteps is too.

To save us all from hazardous eye poison as we, at long last, move into Spring I offer words of caution:

Ladies, ladies, ladies, kindly refrain from the uber elevated platform.  Unless you are auditioning for RuPaul’s Drag Race, there is no room in your closet for these flagrant fouls of fashion – they are tacky and make you look trashy.  Lose/Lose.

Your feet, I will tolerate – I mean, feet, really, EEWW – if you have done your due diligence and maintained them in a way that does not assault modicums of proper hygiene.  Moisturize!  Slough!  Pedicure!  If all that’s too much for you, wear socks.  They were invented to cover your gross feet.  True story.

Toes are best when covered in bright shiny polish.  Or at least pedicured to look like they are covered in bright shiny polish (hello, buff pedicure!).  Toes are not best when suffocated in pantyhose AND open toed shoes.  This is, to me, the worst fashion offence ever, ever.  This is a fashion contradiction akin to the worn-alone sleeveless turtleneck (neck, cold.  arms, warm. ??).   Make a decision – are they in?   Are they out?  Are you going bare legged and open toed OR hosed and pumped.  It’s not a tough choice ladies.  Make one and step forward with confidence. 

I know I must sound like a Shoe Gestapo and overall Fashion Meanie and, really, who am I to talk?  I’m no style maven – I can’t get away with 95% of what’s cool these days and basically wear the same iteration of the same outfit every single day.  This must be why I’m a stickler for things like tailoring and common sense – if I can’t look hip I may as well look put together.  And this put togetherness starts with a solid, sloughed and well soled foundation.  Yours should too.

Blank

Magic happens at the point of darkness.

The nanosecond between black, white and boom.

Go blank.