I miss my blog. I love being busier at work so that my days go faster but I really miss "looking busy" and blogging about the retardation that is my life. On the other hand, nothing actually exciting is going on. No boy drama. No home drama. No work drama. I guess I'm one of those people that only has a lot to say when they are at less than optimal happiness. I never was a good journal keeper back in my Lisa Frank days. Looking back at those fluorescent notebooks with minuscule locks and keys, I only wrote about two things. One being boys (duh!) and the other being my mother. She's a great mom, don't get my wrong, but she's really been a cunt at times over the years. I still wouldn't trade her for anyone else. I mean, what kind of weak bitch would I be if I didn't have formal bitch training from the *Suze. But I digress.
I wish I had as much to share when I am happy as when I am in a funk but I don't. This could be because when I'm happy it's usually got some chemical substance mixed in and I just like to sit and buzz and think about deep thoughts that I inevitably forget. Seriously, I have come up with some mind blowing schemes and inventions and then forgot them before I could put them into action. (I don't sound one bit like a stoner, do I??) Lately though I've been too tired for deep thinking, reading, exercising, anything really except online shopping. And shopping I have done. Shoes, purses, capes, dresses, makeup, you name it. Seriously, I might be bordering on an addiction but not quite yet there. I swear one day I will live somewhere fabulous, and work somewhere fabulous so I can be a fashionista everyday. It's hard to really feel special in business casual wear, ya know? When that day comes I will become a fashion blogger, even though I think they are a bit ridiculous. I'm just vain and want to post lots of pretty pictures looking stunningly current and chic. If you all didn't know so many of my secrets, I would do that now! But, I've got to maintain my secret identity and whatnot. Alas, it's so hard to be me. This brings me to my next point.
My husband is totally okay with my buying presents for myself. For a while I thought it was irritating him that I spent money but paid no bills. Well, ladies and fabulous gentleman, something changed this weekend! He encouraged my to buy a pair of brown leather wedges that were upwards of $75. Now clearly I'm not talking Jimmy Choo or Louboutin but I have SO many shoes. So my heart was aching for these little gems and I walked away without them thinking he was trying to trick me somehow. (Why is suspicion my first instinct?) The next day I confessed to him that I had dreamed I owned those shoes and I could run in them. (Don't ask.) So he again encourages me to get them!! I still haven't but I probably will. If this is a trick I'm willing to see it through to the end. Either way I'll have the footwear. WINNING! This all sounds like a good sign right? Who couldn't adore a man that lets her do act like an Upper East Side trust fund baby, sleep in the other room, rarely have sex with him and basically just do whatever she pleases?? I'm seriously considering giving up my lovers for free reign with the credit card and no repercussions. I realize how absurd this sounds. I'm going to stop cheating on my husband for shoes. No one ever said I was a fucking sensible person. When you think about it though, I do care A LOT more for my possessions than the boys I use. I don't agonize over which boy would go better with my new leopard skinnies or which boy best compliments my eyes. No. I play with them for a while and then return them. Kind of like a library book. And we all know I'm slightly skeeved out by library books. Seriously, they all smell weird, I hate those thick plastic covers and the sounds they make and God only knows what kind of germs are lurking between those pages. Who knew lovers and library books were so similar? So from this point forward, I am going to buy things instead of renting a boy for the night. It's definitely not my worst plan. My NYC trip is around the corner and I fully intend to make the most of it with the hubby. Not to mention, I'm feeling more ready for a round two at the baby thing. Wish me luck!
Love and overdue fines,
*Suze- dimunitive form of the pet name my friends and I use for mi madre.