September 08, 2004
Hello? Amy? Are you here?
Hi! Hi! Yes! Am here!
Jesus Christ, girl. Where the hell have you been?
Um. Around? Sleeping mostly.
Haaaaaaaa. That was funny. I am funny.
Shut it. You could have posted something. You had the whole damn Internet worried.
Sure I did. I also sent the stock market plunging and got the terror alert raised too, because I'm just that important.
Whatever. You just liked leaving that last post up so you could get dozens and dozens of comments.
True. I also like vanishing and being all mysterious so people will write me nice things. And would a We Heart Amalah And Hope She's Okay blog ring be too much to ask?
Oh. Okay, nevermind.
So seriously, where have you been? Why haven't you written anything? Why did you not at least email people to let them know that you didn't lose it and jump off a bridge or something? And most importantly, where the HELL is today's advice column?
Well, maybe I DID jump off a bridge. Maybe I'm a NEW Amalah.
Maybe there have been a lot of Amalahs. Like Ann Landers. Or the drummer from Spinal Tap.
You lost me. Also, it is not funny to joke about jumping off a bridge. My brother's friend totally died that way.
He committed suicide?
No, he was just really clumsy.
THIS IS THE ENTIRE ADVICE COLUMN, RIGHT HERE, BECAUSE IT IS THE ONLY QUESTION I GOT THIS WEEK, YOU UNGRATEFUL LITTLE MONKIES
I have two needs. The first one is a need to know why Jay McGraw is allowed to, well, exist. Just because he's trying to get real with teens similar to Dr. Daddy, that doesn't give him the right to renovate people's families. Especially when he sports an excessive amount of scruff. Can reality tv hosts do the scruff? It's perplexing, I know.
Second, I need to know if I am the only one who is being sucked in by the new Gap commercials featuring Sarah Jessica Parker. For some reason, I feel it necessary to purchase a lot of brightly colored blazers and high heels, even though it's still in the 90's here in Florida. And I don't wear high heels because they hurt my feet.
1) Jay McGraw? Who in the fuck now what huh?
Okay, I Googled him. And all I can say is this: Thank you TiVo, for not recommending this show to me, because while I enjoy some good trainwreck reality TV, my TiVo knows that I am better than that show and deserve more from life, like Scrubs and more Cheers reruns.
2) Com...com..errr...shals? What? Oh yes. Just one of the many things my TiVo totally saves me from. I never watch them anymore. I did see a billboard of SJP wearing some whimsical-yet-funkified-by-twenty-percent-or-so denim capris with ribbons on them, to which I am going to say this: No. Do not. Wrong answer, please try again and this time lose the ribbons.
I have seen some cute little blazers though that I sort of want. Perhaps you could buy me one so I could get some real perspective on your dilemma and give you some real advice regarding the SJP/Gap phenomenon.
Wow. That was weak. Even for you.
Well, I'm a little rusty. And cranky and hungry. Also medicated.
Oh yes, how goes everything with the crazy-ass-mental-condition-you-once-said-you-weren't-going-to-talk-about-and-now-won't-shut-up-about?
Oh, just PEACHY. Prozac has joined the party, by the way. I'm totally kicking it old school now.
To your mutha.
JUST SOME OF THE THINGS I DID THIS WEEKEND, BECAUSE YOU CARE, DEEPLY
And I WENT. ME. With the CROWDS and the HEIGHTS and the PARKING LOTS.
The beer helped. Also hot dogs. I think they won. Woo and whatever.
I went to Target and Petsmart and put my clothes away and called my mom and my sister and I napped and went to dinner and then panicked and hyperventilated and then got better and watched Galaxy Quest, which totally rules.
I bought a lot of books and read one that started out totally amazing and I thought it was going to be the best book I ever read but then halfway through I realized that it was not going to be that, not even close. It ended up kind of sucking which made me sad, because it was such a cool idea. Much like this post, except for the cool part.
I bought a cheap paperback version of Gone With the Wind because I haven't read it in years but while I was getting rung up I suddenly wondered if it was okay to still like Gone With the Wind because, you know, I'm white, or is it wrong to even think about it in those terms? Either way, I got myself confused and put it at the bottom of my reading pile. I really do remember thinking it was a great book. Maybe it isn't anymore.
I took a bath with rubber duckies and wind-up green frogs that both scared and fascinated my dog. Martha sent them to me because she rocks and knows that it's hard to be sad when you have a rubber duckie.
I modeled a new shirt that BMH sent me because she rocks too.
I had weird dreams about fighting evil forces underground while on the run from zombie cats and Shrek. Loretta Swit from M*A*S*H was there and so was Blue Poppy, I think. I dreamt about being back in high school and this one girl who never talked to me in real life was my best friend and we all went out partying at this Indian restaurant that also sold throw pillows and bridal accessories. And then I dreamt about smoking pot with the cast of Friends.
I went to Sephora and ate Krispy Kremes for lunch and drank margaritas for dinner and I slept a lot and panicked some more and stared at the ceiling and played with my dog and cleaned up her accidents and bought a new vacuum and chased my dog with the new vacuum and went to bed early and got up late and felt like a normal person and then didn't again and drank a lot of coffee.
What in the WORLD was all that about? Are you TRYING to scare your readers away?
No, I was going for this stream-of-consciousness thing where I could express that while things are weird right now, I'm still managing to live a normal and functional life, see?
Not really. It was mostly just boring.
Sorry. I'm not really very good at this whole writing thing sometimes.
I think it's time to shut up and post some dog pictures.
Good idea. Also, who are you and why am I talking to you?
I'm frickin' Dear Abby. Now shut up and post some damn pictures before I throw you off a bridge.