Because I can*
“The best writing style is the style you don't notice.” ~
I’ve become overwhelmingly concerned with the state of Lulu and Jason’s relationship and less on the state of my Christmas list. I mean, will they or won’t they get together? What will happen with Alcazar? How the fuck did I end up in this strange vortex of having to halt all things when
When my Uncle asked what I would be doing with my new laptop, I didn’t have the heart to tell him that I’d be using it to blog so I’m sure I muttered something and then put my head down and prayed that he would attack G over something, and lo, he did, in regards to G being an Africana Studies major which is a whole different post about that and his Marcus Garvey love and other fun things. So! Blogging! Yes, I do so and rather fervently and at the beginning it was for my friends and family and then it turned into not just for my friends and family. Which I noticed the other day when seeing Elisa (Of Blogher fame as well) speak and someone came up to me and said “Are you Heather?” and then I promptly shoved my hands in my pockets, despite the 98.4 degree temperature and possibly mumbled yet again, something about how yes, I am Heather. And then you all would be proud, I proceeded to complete a quality 45 minutes worth of conversation with several complete strangers, while utterly (and not all too painfully) sober.
And now is a perfect time to mention that one of the people that I was conversing with had been a clown in a ‘former’ life. Clowns scare me in ways indescribable and to the point that I was once terrified to close the door to my bedroom and have the lights off because one would come in and kill me in my sleep, in fact, I’m sure I was once convinced that all clowns did was lure little children to kill them. Of course this clown was a nice one, and I possibly…you know…maybe I had an incredibly fucked up movie experience as a child and watched It (the Stephen King movie that I would link to via IMDB, if it didn’t sport a picture of a deathly clown right on the front, though I’m not sure of that, but I’d rather not risk it) one too many times.
Anyway, I have a visitor coming this weekend, solely for the purposes of shopping with me. I’m not sure where exactly I found her and did I mention the stellar boot collection that I stole from and then had a coworker tell me how stylish this aforementioned visitor is? Yeah. Anyway, the visitor is coming to take me to Anthropologie, something about me losing weight and being a genuinely fucking fantastic individual has lead her to do such a thing. But! While with her I can dissect the above things and the reasons for why segues are such a tough thing for me to tackle. And of course that whole clown thing.
*This post brought to you by my brilliance to write it yesterday afternoon knowing full well that I would be sporting a massive hangover today. Note to self: The quality of vodka doesn’t necessarily mean a different hangover. In fact right now I have another crazy ass hangover which I can feel in my neck and in my right ear. It’s very odd. I asked someone for a remedy and then realized that I could always just drink less, but that’s silly talk.