rhinestone fools & silver dollars

It is my belief that every person who spews forth a blog must, by some mandate, write a post that talks about how they know they owe their friends a real post, life gets in the way, things are rough right now, and my modeling career has just skyrocketed lately and I've been so busy trying to achieve perfection that I have no ideas due to lack of nutrients to my brain.

Something like that. I've done a few such posts. And have you checked out my print work in the latest Target ad? Anyway, based on recent writings, you probably think I've just kept doing them.

Can I just say wow. I thought we loved each other. Huh.

Well, regardless of how you feel about me, I think we should still try to make things work between us. So I'll ask you to look beyond yet another post where I say I have so many ideas brewing in my head it's like howler monkeys are jumping around in there. For example, I have raging thoughts on lying and overall juvenile behavior, how my shoes make me look like a 79 year old school lunch lady, harmless fun at work, and new changes at home all festering in my pretty "it might be red, it might not be" lush dome right now.

Yeah. You SHOULD be excited for what's ahead here in my world. Plus, you could really begin to question my fascination with monkeys.

To just let you know how things are at the moment, I must say I've been enjoying my pretend honeymoon with my pretend husbands, Dave and Taylor. Um. The part in that post where I talked about not "enjoying" all of us at the same time? Interesting thing about that. They started playing and singing and next thing you know, pretend sex. Everyone should know how to play an instrument. That's all I'm saying, and I'm saying that as the girl who gave up on the clarinet in sixth grade. Though I think "The Band" would still let me play triangle or something, eh? Yeah?

Another thing. I coast by your places and I have more insightful things to say to you in your comments than what happens here. I owe some of you an email or five (waving to that guy in "The Band" who I don't stalk, because that is just silliness and clearly I'm too busy with other pressing matters to even entertain the idea of stalking), but my computer is, I fear, near wrecked. Something evil, like a python or perhaps an anaconda, has crawled inside it and wrapped itself around the inner workings. I imagine the reptile, whatever it is, is quite sluggish because it's been dining on howler monkeys. It's insanely slow. It shuts down on me. It sticks its little tongue out at me and I may flip it off when it does. Whatever. It's not cool. When I get the chance to sit here with greater patience, I'm going to be all over you all.

Like I have to go be with Dave and Taylor now. They're insatiable.

The song? Yeah. Siouxsie & The Banshees "Peek-A-Boo". It's a little bit of fantastic in just over 3 minutes. Says a lot, too. Kind of like this post that gets all scary wordy just to say I have things to say, but not right at this moment.

Of course, I want you to feel free to say anything to me, so now's your chance. So many of you saunter through here daily. Prove to me you still care. That we can, indeed, give this another go. I refuse to believe you're willing to just let our love die.

Or simply suggest another odd animal I can reference a lot.