girl at large

Excuses, excuses, excusezzzzz......

I have become a lazy bastard, addicted to the comforts of a couch and fireplace. The room containing these luxuries does not contain the computer. My new couch arrived in December, just in time for dark nights that begin at 4pm and the launch of a new local tv station that airs Seinfeld twice each week night. Two different episodes.

It started with the fireplace. It started with having one--I never before have had a working fireplace. The dog presses herself up to the screen, risking bodily flammage to be as physically close to the warmth as possible, and snoozes for hours, days on end. I have learned to watch how the dog lives her life and follow her lead--she doesn't have stress zits or sleepless nights or an unidentified rash or hormone rage.

First the cord of wood, then came the couch. A couch may seem a triffling thing, but I have been without a proper one for five years. I didn't know I was suffering. I had Mom's cozy lounge chair, the armless cubes and for some time now my beloved new retro-armchairs. I had forgotten about the couch's dirtly little secret---sitting down, I am faced with all that luxurious space next to me. A leg sneaks up, then the other. Shortly, I am prone.

And then I am asleep.

I don't have time to blog, I am drooling on my toss pillow.

Vegas Baby

Last week, I went to Las Vegas at the last minute to attend two days of the World Market Home Furnishings Trade Show. I went to Vegas, with my boss, to work. Contain your excitement on my behalf. We stayed at the Luxor, said to be visible from space. The Great Wall, the Amazon and ...The Luxor--what a planet.

In short, my impression of Vegas is summed up in this story:

One evening, walking back to the hotel from dinner, enjoying natural air and a moment devoid of casino-din, my boss said to me: "Wow, look up at that moon!"

It was full; perfectly round and full and glowing with celestial beauty.

My reply, with a tone of intense disgust: "Which hotel did THAT?"

Sassy Toddler Togs

Stella has shot up, and I was caught unawares. I made this Dress for her for Christmas. Note I said "Dress". It was not intended to be a sassy hipster's belly shirt.

a new low

I've tried speed dating, Match.com, set-ups, social clubs.. you name it. And nowhere can I find a date that isn't deeply, deeply wrong.

Is searching the Craig's List Missed Connections in pathetic hope that you might have been noticed by some stranger, is that as sad as it feels? Even sadder when I realized the only place anyone would have the opportunity to notice me is at the grocery store?!!?