VacationJuly 6, 2007
I've been on vacation this week, and I've been so unbelievably unmotivated to blog. I think my lack of inspiration can be blamed on several factors. First, there's virtually no internet access at my mom and dad's beach house. I mean, every once in a while you can grab a quick wireless signal from a friendly neighbor, but those lucky moments are few and far between. Pretty much every morning, I walk out of my bedroom to find my beloved brother-in-law standing on a kitchen chair balancing his brand new Mac Book two and a half above his head—and nine times out of ten my father is standing behind him rolling his eyes. C'mon dad, why should Rob call his parents when there's a one in a zillion chance that he'll get a strong enough signal to email them? And why would he ever take the conventional route of reading the newspaper when he might just be able to read his Paris and Nicole gossip on the internet?
Geesh, those baby boomers are so unreasonable I'll tell ya!
Anywho, wireless connections do exist Cape Cod, so I don't think that's the primary reason behind my recent blogger dropout behavior. Most of all, I haven't blogged because I'm suffering from a major lack of material this week—in other words, my life is great. Family members are fighting each other to change James's poopy diapers, my mom can't help but buy me all sorts of fabulous gifties, I've eaten at least one donut every day, and I've gained two pounds of pure flab. This, my friends, is the good life.
I kind of miss being funny, I really do. Seriously guys, I miss my material—Like my downstairs neighbor who speaks no English, but tries to lure me into her apartment to measure me for a new bra every afternoon (at least I hope that's what she's implying when she uses her hands to cup her boobies like that). Or my other crrrazy neighbor who has a professionally diagnosed home shopping addiction—I should know, the UPS man drops by my place every afternoon so I can sign for her packages from QVC (note of caution: the collectible dolls must not look as nice in person, because my neighbor is pretty much a biz-natch). And somehow, I even miss the guy who lets his dog take a doo-doo on my staircase from time to time.
I'm surprised to say that I'm actually looking forward to getting back to Dallas. It's just so much easier to write about tripping over a homeless man on my run than it is to write about untouched beaches, smiling wildlife, and clear blue skies. Give me my smog. Give me my traffic. Give me my Botoxed grandmas. Give me back my mild case of clinical depression.
Give me the Big D!
And when we moved back to Maine in a few months, I guess I'll just have to take up needlepoint or pie-baking, because I know I’ll be happy…damnit. I'll just have to cross that bridge when I come to it.
Geesh, those baby boomers are so unreasonable I'll tell ya!
Anywho, wireless connections do exist Cape Cod, so I don't think that's the primary reason behind my recent blogger dropout behavior. Most of all, I haven't blogged because I'm suffering from a major lack of material this week—in other words, my life is great. Family members are fighting each other to change James's poopy diapers, my mom can't help but buy me all sorts of fabulous gifties, I've eaten at least one donut every day, and I've gained two pounds of pure flab. This, my friends, is the good life.
I kind of miss being funny, I really do. Seriously guys, I miss my material—Like my downstairs neighbor who speaks no English, but tries to lure me into her apartment to measure me for a new bra every afternoon (at least I hope that's what she's implying when she uses her hands to cup her boobies like that). Or my other crrrazy neighbor who has a professionally diagnosed home shopping addiction—I should know, the UPS man drops by my place every afternoon so I can sign for her packages from QVC (note of caution: the collectible dolls must not look as nice in person, because my neighbor is pretty much a biz-natch). And somehow, I even miss the guy who lets his dog take a doo-doo on my staircase from time to time.
I'm surprised to say that I'm actually looking forward to getting back to Dallas. It's just so much easier to write about tripping over a homeless man on my run than it is to write about untouched beaches, smiling wildlife, and clear blue skies. Give me my smog. Give me my traffic. Give me my Botoxed grandmas. Give me back my mild case of clinical depression.
Give me the Big D!
And when we moved back to Maine in a few months, I guess I'll just have to take up needlepoint or pie-baking, because I know I’ll be happy…damnit. I'll just have to cross that bridge when I come to it.
3 comments:
I know what you mean. Luckily, at this time in my life, there are so many crazified things going on, there is no shortage of material. I worry that some day my life might be perfect and boring. Still being in the dating and school scenes makes life quite interesting, it turns out. Or maybe that's my own personal opinion. Maybe everyone who reads my blog goes, "Yech!"
I miss my Dunkin' Donuts. We don't have any here in Colorado so whenever I go back to New England I try to fit my annual donut allowance into 3 days.
That's why my blog is so darned boring. I've got nothing to work with - except the same old same old of trying to find a job and a place to live. I have semi-interesting stuff going on in my knitting blog (linked in my blogger profile).
Post a Comment