I think I need a little break.
You know, it’s funny. I have been reading blogs daily and writing near-daily and talking about blogs for maybe… oh, I dunno… three years. And yeah, I’ve gone on vacation and not blogged –but all the while reminding myself that I need a vacation from blogging.
I need it to avoid mornings like this one. A morning rife with things to write about, such as OJ Simpson getting arrested or the Emmys being as boring as ever and…. green? Do not get me started with the whole Hollywood-thinks-it’s-green-but-they-don’t-even-know-what-that-means bit. And yeah, Britney Britney Britney twenty-four/seven, because if you’re ever feeling like your life is not suiting you, like a shoe that caused a blister, you can always turn to that big Britney mirror and realize that at least you’re not a barely functional adult stuck at the emotional age of three and the intellectual age of not whose main draw was a body that is now harder and harder to make bounce back from excess.
But I think that as much as I could make all this work, I’d rather go outside for a couple of days and enjoy the crisp mornings that we’re suddenly getting and play with Herr Meow and maybe bake a cake.
Or maybe I’ll bake cookies and finish up my bulletin board project and maybe go over to my sheep-throwing friend’s house and offer to help with the painting (you readin’ this? DO YOU SEE HOW I SACRIFICE MYSELF??) or maybe I’ll actually work on a quilt that I started on December 28th 2004 and which I have neglected for a very long time.
I’ll probably still post, but it will be one-liners or pictures. Or maybe not.
But I think that I need to gather my thoughts and realize that feeling overwhelmed is a natural feeling –along with the murderous feeling that overcomes one when one of one’s favorite bands from her early years is insulted by commentators by the name of Ghosty Twofish.
And so, I shall listen to myself and act upon this feeling. And I won’t subject you readers to more banal whining on how I have writer’s block.
Here is a parting image of the cheapest meat, like, ever– I’m still torn on whether I should have told the cashier that someone made a mistake, but by the same token… shouldn’t meat for 10¢ ring some sort of bells, like "hello? Mislabeled meat?" kind of bells?
Furthermore, I must say that it was delicious ;o)
Happy Monday, everyone!