Where Is My Mind?

It snowed the whole weekend here. I swear. I saw it with my own eyes. I wonder if the novelty of it will ever wear off. Perhaps if I lived in Canada or Finland. Doubt it though - all that snow, I’d be like Calvin, building suicidal snowmen all day long.

This year, I finally got over the novelty of resolutions though.

Tried Twitter yet? I did. It was intriguing in the beginning and then the, ahem, novelty of it, nosedived without warning. And I thought narcissism would be fun. We’ll just stick to the blog now shall we.

Also, this damn recession is getting a bit much. With all the hulla bulla, I feel suddenly broke and poorer. Despite any change in finances. This just confirms I’m a sucker for marketing.

So today I asked my boss - “Umm, will we get a bonus?”. He turned around real slow, smiled and said “ *CrazyDiamond’s indian name*, you ask such difficult questions” and then promptly zoned off. I even wistfully looked at a picture of a 42inch HDTV and willed my eyes to well up, hoping I’d appeal to some soft crumbly emotion of his, perhaps he'd hint with a nod of his head if I could buy it or a shake if I couldn't (yes, drama runs in my family). But no. That man’s a stone I tell you, a stone.

Throwing a house warming party this friday. So if you’re in Manhattan and passing by a small apartment with dimmed lights and great music but louder voices, yell my name. I might look out the window and watch you walk by.

But if you have a bottle of alcohol on you, we’ll lasso you inside. Anything except mulled wine. That’s too pretentious for our blood.

Red Right Hand

You know what it is.
I haven’t bought a book in ages!

There’s been something missing for a while. A tiny nagging something, a tiny something that’s very good at hiding itself but like a little child playing hide and seek can’t stop giggling from behind it’s hiding place.

That giggling finally gave it away, cause only yesterday I crossed a book shop and it hit me. I hadn’t bought a book in 2-3 months or more. Why? I don’t know. I don’t usually do this. I’ve often felt books are my shoes (that’s the closest to an obsession analogy I can come up with from my hearings of women lore).

The right side of my brain wants to come back with a vengeance and buy a shitload. But the left side gasps at that thought and suggests a methodical approach. Since the left side is obviously the high maintenance one, it wins.

Any suggestions?

oh and a happier new year and all that.