WordPress reminded me yesterday that we had hit our two-year anniversary. I’d forgotten to buy flowers or even a card to commemorate one of the longest relationships I’ve had with just about anything, save a few t-shirts to which I am particularly attached. I’ve let this love fall by the wayside, lost that spark due to a routine of work and social commitments and the odd run at Netflix, but no more. In order to
form a more perfect union make sure that I keep up my end of the partnership, I’ve even finished a project that I’d been working for a while. Good people, I give you my writing blog.
Sure, it’s only just getting its sea legs, but it’ll get there. Even if you don’t visit–or do and hate everything, then decide to terminate all contact with me–it does mean that I can finally hand out these business cards without ending a sentence with the phrase, “down for maintenance.”
Whether or not you celebrate Christmas, you’re reading this, so you’re stuck with a holiday music post. I’m only now finishing up on churning out the mix CDs my friends will be saddled with this year for Baby Jesus’s Very Merry Unbirthday, and I don’t want you feeling left out or anything. We’ll get this first one out of the way to prep you for spending tomorrow with your loved ones.
And Festivus was yesterday, so save you grievances.
The world needs another review of Bossypants by a middle class white girl blogger like it needs another place-based reality show, so you won’t be getting one.
This guide is applicable to anyone looking for a dress to wear to a particular event, so long as that person is me. I’m not going to tell you how to live your life because that’s rude.
But you might learn something.
This installment is more directed at my future husbands than anyone else.
Honey, Baby, Honey-Baby, Sugar Bear, Ray: don’t take me on a cruise.
I’ve not been a very productive blogger lately.
Well, unless you asked my Tumblr.
This will be rectified. Expect the usual combination of travel photos, poems, follower appreciation, themed playlists, and terrible advice.
For now, enjoy the forty-eighth runner-up in the Songs to Be Played at Liz’s Ninetieth Birthday.
Holy pun, Batman!
By now it is very likely that you’ve seen The Dark Knight Rises and have heard scores of arguments about any given facet of the film. Don’t worry: this will not be another one. Most people who know me well have already been subjected to my alternating rants and gushings on all things related to the Caped Crusader. If you have missed out on such an honor, feel free to call me at two in the morning.
Instead, I thought I’d welcome you to a strange point where two of my favorite things meet.
Batman and poetry.