Why does a new document in Word have to be so white? And wide? And…blank? It’s very intimidating, especially when you have NOTHING TO WRITE ABOUT.
But this was why I started this godforsaken website, though, right? So I’d be forced to write everyday instead of watching Simpsons reruns or playing little online games like this one? So I’d be forced to wring creativity from my brain like an old sponge that has been used to scrub the bathroom one too many times but every time you’re at the grocery store you forget to buy sponges? Right?
In other words, nothing of interest has happened to me. And definitely nothing of interest that could be strung together with other interesting things to make one interesting website update has happened to me.
So I guess it’s time for some stream-of-consciousness writing, where I simply yap on about whatever occurs to me until I’ve filled up the majority of this big blank screen. Brace yourselves.
My choice of salad dressing utterly destroyed my otherwise lovely salad from Whole Foods. “Roasted red pepper ranch” sounds delightful, doesn’t it? Sadly, no. Yeeeewww.
Every other day this week I ate a cup of ramen noodles from the vending machine. No, I don’t feel very good about that either.
Jason has lost five pounds on the South Beach Diet already. I am trying not to hate him for it.
But how can I hate a man who bought me a present EVERY DAY THIS WEEK? I cannot hate such a man. First, he ordered a whole heap of stuff from Victoria’s Secret, and due to backorders and the crazy way VS packs stuff, it all arrived in the mail one item at a time. Shoes! Nighties! Tops! Bikinis! Panties with cherries on them! Every day was a celebration of ME ME ME!
I’m not sure if I’ve ever mentioned this before, but Jason buys me clothes all the damn time and is damn good at it. The man SHOPS, people. With ME. For SHOES. He has OPINIONS. Opinions that I have learned to trust implicitly, as he has much better taste and more patience than I.
I’m all, LOOK! BROWN SHOES! I LOVE THEM THEY’LL DO OH THERE’S A LINE FOR SIZES WELL THESE SHOES HAVE ALL THE BOXES STACKED HERE I’LL JUST BUY THEM OR MAYBE GO ONLINE WHERE I DON’T HAVE TO DEAL WITH HUMANS JASON WHERE ARE YOU?
And Jason will have wandered over to a different display and have chosen the most beautiful shoe that is not only a designer brand but has been marked down to ridiculous levels. And even if it hasn’t, he’ll talk me into buying it. We’re a very dangerous team.
Anyway. After the Victoria’s Secret bounty all arrived, he brought home a dozen yellow roses. And then the next day, the brand-new book from David Sedaris that he happened to notice at the store, like, three minutes after it was unloaded from the truck.
And he bought advance tickets to see Harry Potter. I think I might just swoon.
Jason also has impeccable taste when it comes to ordering food. If he’d been at Whole Foods he would have known not to get the roasted red pepper ranch dressing.
Or at least known to taste it before completely drenching your entire salad in it.
And on a completely unrelated note, y’all want me to be in your weddings. Because I rock at it. I’m MOH in my friend Andie’s wedding this September, and first, I found two very lovely and flattering bridesmaid dresses secondhand through another friend for the other two girls, saving each of them a heap load of money.
(I didn’t get a secondhand dress for myself because I assumed I’d be like, six months pregnant by the time the wedding came around. Oh Amy, you’re so stupid. I laugh at you, stupid girl.)
So I was GOING to order a matching dress full-price through the store, but then lo and behold…eBay, bitches. I got the exact same dress as the other bridesmaids on eBay. In exactly my size. For $54. Boo. Yah.
Here is the dress. It’s pretty and has a little shawl for my wan and delicate shoulders, which look exactly like the model’s.
So I think I have filled up adequate white space now. Plus I need to do work. The latest newsletter from a certain author I work with contains a poem. A big long poem. Did I mention these are financial newsletters? About stocks and bonds and mutual funds? Did you know there are poems about those things too? I did not. But I do know this: There should not be poems about those things.
Especially poems that read like this.
That are only preferable to watching a bris.
Singsongy lines with singsongy rhymes,
The creator of which should hang for his crimes.
If Dr. Seuss ever wrote about stocks
It would probably suck great bloody bullocks.
So obviously, I have a lot of work to do right now. Have a nice weekend, muggles.