As you may recall, my family has invoked a gag rule of sorts when it comes to me writing about them in this blog. This creates truly a lose-lose-lose situation. First of all, it’s your loss, faithful readers, because if I were permitted to describe to you in detail everything that has really been happening in my family over the past month or so, you would be literally LOL’ing and ROFL’ing, plus you’d be sitting on the edge of your seat anxiously awaiting what happens next; in short, you’d be majorly entertained. And, perhaps most of all, you’d be left feeling pretty good about whatever is happening in your own life in comparison. So, I’m sorry I cannot provide you with that particular kind of joy right now.
Just one day ago, Prince Harry and Meghan Markle tied the knot in what was arguably my favorite television wedding event since Luke and Laura got married on General Hospital back in the early 1980s (even though my mom wouldn’t let me skip school to watch it, a fact I’ve held a grudge about for over 35 years…) Any blogger worth his or her salt is going to bring up yesterday’s event this week, being sure to throw in key words like “royal” and “wedding” and “fascinator” and “Windsor Castle” and “Why is there even still a British monarchy,” because everyone knows these are the key words that are being Googled like crazy right now, and using such words should theoretically help your blog get more views.
Continue reading “The prince next door”
This is the story of a girl and her dog and that time they almost sold out to the man for 15 minutes of Instagram fame.
So, I have this dog. He’s a Havanese. He weighs about 9 pounds. And he’s really freaking cute, if I do say so myself… I’ve written about him here before.
I’ve been feeling a little more tired than usual over the past few days. Fatigued. Exhausted. Weary. Drained. I’ve been trying to understand what could be causing this malaise. This unease. This sense of melancholy.
The good news: I’m clearly still alert enough to use a Thesaurus. The bad news: I figured out what’s wrong with me, and it’s something that only time can heal. Continue reading “Can I smear you now?”
Yeah, that’s right; you heard me… I got into a knife fight this weekend. And I won. That is how crazy and exciting my Saturdays are, for real.
If I ever have time to blog again, the first thing I will do is extend a very special “Bon Jour” to Equilibre, the French-Canadian fitness site that likes to steal my blog posts, translate them into French, and post them as their own without giving me credit! Don’t believe me? Check it out HERE. (Sorry — I just want to see if they have the balls to steal this one now!)
A warning to my friends: If you run into me this week, I may seem a little crabbier than usual. There are seemingly many reasons for this, but it really all boils down to one: I am a cliché.
I’m one of those people who signed up for a weight loss program at the beginning of the new year. It’s through my awesome gym (shout-out to Ki’netik Fitness!), and it’s actually called “6-Weeks to a Healthier You!” And as everyone knows, “healthier” is really a code word for “skinnier.” I’m all for that.