Wow. I'm Redefining The Term Slacker Over Here.

This blog is a neglected wasteland as of late, and I've got a few good reasons.

1. My mom still has that goddamn brain tumor. She's doing well, finished with treatment and bouncing back, despite still being stuck in a wheelchair and having to use a walker to get around. This was understandably getting on her nerves last week when she quipped, "Apparently, I'm a little fucking disabled." We spend Mondays together, and it is the highlight of my week - there is nothing better in this life than hearing my mom laugh. Or laughing at her as she loses at least 10 pens, 8 books and 17 post-its in the four foot area around her chair in the living room at least 7 times each Monday.

2. I've been spending my time writing a horribly boring 30-page essay about a very nice British lady who wrote children's books. Despite her illustrious career and somewhat interesting life and the fact that I am getting paid for said essay, every time I sit down to write I want to do two things: slam a glass of wine and then sleep. Needless to say, it's been a very slow process.

3. I'm grossly in love. Like junior high in love. (He is the crush I mentioned who kept me sane when I found sweet Wally all dead in my apartment. And he's, well, amazing.) The kind where you have to keep most of it to yourself because it's hard to explain exactly, and well, your friends are trying to be polite and not retch when you say stuff like, "Well, I mean, it's just the way he says my name, you know, softly and sweetly, and his voice, have I told you about his voice? It's like deep and melodious and sensual and..." I think you get my drift, and the whole thing is just taking up most of my time. Thinking about him, talking to him, emailing him, texting him, daydreaming about him - it's really a full time job. I know, it's disgusting. Sorry.

4. Yesterday, I attempted to give myself a litte bikini wax, because well, that shit's expensive, and suddenly with being in love and all there's all this upkeep and well, that shit's expensive. This took up at least 90 minutes of my time where I could have been blogging, and the results were beyond disastrous. First and foremost, apparently my "spa wax kit" was returned by someone, who for whatever reason, took the little pieces of cloth that are used to place over the wax to remove the hair, so I had none, and by the time I discovered this, I had already warmed up the wax and returning the whole kit and kaboodle was no longer an option. But I'm scrappy, so I just decided to use the pieces of well, tape? I guess from my lint roller, the non-sticky side. So I'm running from the kitchen to the bathroom scantily clothed so that the purple (yes, purple) wax doesn't cool too fast and the first rip on my thigh went well, so I think hey, I can totally do this, and save some cash in the process! Then I get the bright idea that the wax should be a little hotter and will then spread better.

This, my friends, was a falsehood.

Not only did the wax not spread better when hot, when I went to pull those damn hairs out, nothing happened. Like the wax stuck to me like melted grape Laffy Taffy. Stuck there mocking me. So I waited until the wax cooled down and tried again on other areas , to moderate success, meaning I globbed too much on and then had to rip it off several times and that leads to super sexy broken blood vessels and bruises, and eventually, after removing perhaps 1/2" of hair, I had to admit defeat. Especially when eying my more tender lady parts and thinking, "Really? You're gonna do that?" Um, no. So today, I'll be spending whatever it costs to let a professional work her magic. Worth every penny.

So you see, that's what I've be up too, and in the meantime, I've missed a few things, like:

Holy shit, Kevin Federline is fucking huge! When did that happen?

Hillary still kicks ass. Crabby and all, she's right, she's the motherfucking Secretary of State, not her husband. Take that, unwitting foreign student reporter. Oh, and fuck off Ann Coulter. Really? Hooters? You might be worse than Bill O'Reilly. Just a little bit. I also love that The Insider is reporting on this like it's a sex scandal. Do enjoy:

http://jezebel.com/5335926/ann-coulter-weighs-in-on-hillary-clintons-meltdown-in-africa

Sean Penn and Madonna are soul mates? Isn't she doing that 18-year old Brazillian guy named Jesus? As reported on by The Superficial:

"A friend says Madonna, 51, and Sean, 49, have stayed in touch since having cocktails last November at New York's Greenwich Hotel and have helped each other through their respective splits (she divorced Guy Ritchie in 2008). And though she is casually dating Jesus Luz, "Madonna still considers Sean her soulmate," her friend reveals. "It's highly possible that she and Sean will somehow get back together now that they'll both be divorced."

And, last but not least, Shatner's interpretation of Palin's resignation speech. If you missed it, you won't be disappointed.



I'm out of here for the weekend to see my sweet and lovely boyfriend. And promise not to be as slacker-ey in the near future about this blog. Mostly.