Wednesday, January 21, 2009

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.

Thursday, January 15, 2009

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.