Teenage Wasteland
You know what? I got nuthin’.
Really. The movies I’ve been watching have neither sucked enough to warrant comment, nor been great enough to warrant review. My work place sucks rotten eggs, and the boss’s wife has been known to read this blog so I really can’t speak to that issue. The sturm und drang of my bother and family business is at stasis, and besides, he has accused me of speaking ill of him to all and sundry. Well, fuck, who knew he read my blog?
The usual riffraff on the train is the same old ill-mannered, appalling cattle that I always see. My studio is in a state of disrepair and I can’t find the floor. My quilting is at a standstill, ditto the tallitsim. My knitting has had to be put on the back burner because the magnificent Lizard Ridge afghan gave me bursitis.
My friends are on the spectrum of odd to totally fucked.
My financial status is firmly in the fucked catagory.
My pets are healthy, and the RLA and I are celebrating our 17th wedding anniversary by going to see Tom Petty and the Heartbreakers. So that’s a plus. As for the rest of my life? Tan’s fading. Mellow vacation head is dissipating. I’m out of Cosmo mixers. Ditto Tangerine Martini mixers.
The pool tether to allow me to swim as though I were in an infinity pool? Not installed. My new, fabulous dress mannequin? Missing parts. All in all? Life could be better.
Comment, you bitches.
Tangerine martini mixers!!???!! where the hell were you, chica, when I was in Miami???
I love how you think and write even when you’re feeling meh and there’s bupkus going on and you’re feeling pissy. Maybe ESPECIALLY then…
hope things are looking up.
Aw, c’mon! At least you don’t have to replace half your roof and maybe the washing machine.
Revel in the all-too-temporary (relative) peace and quiet. I’ll send you a copy of the Sarasota sunset and a sun ‘n sand candle.
Hugs!
Yeesh. Well, you have a roof over your head, a devoted RLA to rub your back, two doggies who are very good doggies, a kitty that depends on you, a studio full of potential, and a job that helps pay the bills. Could be worse, too.
Wallow, baby, wallow! It’s good to wallow sometimes.
I’m not gonna do any sort of “look on the bright side” shit, cuz that’s not what you wanna hear.
So wallow already. And keep writing about it.