The Inner Sanctum
The Wednesday Advice Smackdown Spectacular!

Things I Don't Want To Talk About

Well then.

So I don’t really want to talk about my weekend. It rained a lot. Plans changed and fell through and then last-minute houseguests left me more stressed out than I felt on Friday. Do you know that the itty bitty bathroom in last week’s post is our ONLY bathroom? And that we still have our old n’ busted couch sitting in the middle of our living room? And that it blocks the walkway to our dining room and kitchen and has surprisingly sharp corners for a big puffy couch?

And I didn’t get to see any fireworks except for some smoky crackly thing some guy set off near my car in the parking lot outside the liquor store. Which was CLOSED because buying booze is downright un-American, even if you are trapped with one bathroom and two couches and your in-laws in a crowded apartment and OH MY GOD WE ARE OUT OF WINE.

And I really don’t want to talk about the drive we took my poor in-laws on around the D.C. neighborhoods we are thinking of moving to because we could actually afford a second bathroom there, even though those neighborhoods are all in, around, and through the ghetto. It doesn’t matter how great of an investment it may be or how much potential Northeast DC has, your parents do not want to know that you are thinking of raising their future grandchildren next door to a crack house. This does not make for happy holiday family fun.

I also don’t want to talk about the new design. Because I still don’t like it. Because it looks nothing like the absolutely amazing design I sketched out on a cocktail napkin a couple weeks ago. It looked awesome. All clean and Zen-like and shit. Then I lost the napkin. Then I realized that my Web design skills are actually worse than my programming skills, which are roughly on-par with the programming skills of your average monkey.

And we certainly won’t talk about how I didn’t realize I’d accidentally published the new template on Saturday which was way earlier than I wanted because it looked even more like shit and I had a complete and utter meltdown because of it and Jason suggested that maybe it’s time to call the shrink again because damn, woman.

And I don’t really want to talk about my day so far. Last week’s sick days and general uselessness have left me completely and utterly screwed for the next two weeks. Much editing and writing and print deadlines and such. And all of it for an author who puts apostrophe’s on plural’s instead of on possessive’s, which hurt’s Amys head. He also likes to write stuff like $4 million dollars or 10-20% percent which drives me so crazy I cannot express it.

Tomorrows headline’s: “Young Woman Who Was Always a Tad Unbalanced Driven Completely Over the Edge By Poor Punctuation. Kills Self With Letter Opener; Innocent Desk Lamp Remains In Critical Condition.”

Oh, and Gmail? I love you and all, but maybe you could try sort of actually delivering my email today? Like in my Inbox? Where I could read it? That would be peachy.

Yeah, I don’t want to talk about Gmail either.

So what else is there to say? Well, there’s cheesecake in the kitchen here at work. That’s yummy news. But I probably shouldn’t talk about the cheesecake either because all I can say about it is that I would very much like to stick my whole face in it and gobble the entire thing up and growl at anyone who approached me. So I guess the less said about the cheesecake, the better.

So in summary: Don’t talk to me, don’t look at me, don’t touch me and don’t you dare come between me and that cheesecake.



Um. I'm just here to say that I am loving your new design. Really loving it. And I'm not just saying that because I want to cheer you up (which I do) I'm saying it because it really kick ass, MrZoot says so. And he thinks I kick ass so he must know what he's talking about.

Also? At least CBS is trying to make you feel better by putting good TV on tonight. Right?


**hides cheesecake behind back**

What cheesecake?



Hang in there, sweet pea.


I think if you have to deal with a writer who puts apostrophes on plurals you deserve an entire cheesecake at the very least. Damn.


I think's that your pretty fine, woman. Yo'ull' be totallly gud in the's end.


Cheesecake? Mmmm. Did you know that Roxy Diner in NYC makes the best cheesecake in the world? And last I heard, they will deliver a cheesecake to your door via FedEx. Not for free or anything, but's damn fine cheesecake.


I agree with Zoot, I think the new design is very cool AND kicks ass. Also loaving the old fashioned picture of some other queen who probably got overwhelmed from time to time. I promise to not touch your cheesecake but will share some plain M & Ms with you - that's my own version of cheesecake. And I just WISH I was as funny as YOU when I am highly annoyed by the world at large. But that is why you are the Queen of Everything and I am NOT!!

bond girl

Sorry, chica. Call Salvation Army and have them remove that sofa toot sweet.


Yikes...can we talk about cheesecake then? Our 4th plans were rained out too! Sucked poodle. And...if you plan to move to can be good. Just sell your car, so the kiddie car thieves don't steal it! Hope your day gets better!!!! And, for the record, I like your new look!


I'm down with the new design, so chalk up one more compliment. And I hope the cheesecake is good - I had awful cheesecake last night. And it is HARD to make bad cheesecake.


Poor girl! That's awful.

But remember, it's not a crack house, it's a crack home.

Sorry, corny.

The in-laws are gone now right? Scream and jump for JOY!


And, um, I hate the misused apostrophe and %-percent $-dollar people.

Hate, hate, hate.

Let's burn 'em all in effigy.


wow, someone get you a fork and a plate! quick!


The design is beeyoteeful, and I think a good Arbor Mist would go perfectly with that cheesecake. (Yeah, I said it. ARBOR. MIST. If you need to be crabby, silliness is in order, too.)


You know you're loaved. It'll get better.


So, you can totally tell that I'm a poor starving student, becaue I? Really think your old & busted couch is kinda pretty. If I didn't sorta live in another country across the continent, I would totally come get your couch from you. Because I don't actually have one. ;)

your personal handmaiden now and forever

Oh honey-- you are having some mean reds to quote our darling Holly Golightly. Let's see-- can we stroll in front of Tiffany's to make you feel better? Maybe not. How about a couple of shots of scotch and tuck you up on the NEW couch and load in some of your favorite movies? *calling salvation army to haul old couch away* Hang in there, baby--- this won't last. I promise. Keep breathing.


I hope your husband buys you a present today. It all sounds stressful and depressing, but undelivered email? That could give a girl a nervous breakdown.

Suzanna Danna

*pets hair*

*offers wonderful wine*

*hands you a tissue*

s'ok sugar... it will all come out in the wash.

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