Only Nola

Hanging Up

You know, I just can't get enough of life. Really. I wish I could clone myself, just so I could go through the shit I have to every day, TWICE.

I'm apparently not meant to have a blog. I'm taking a vacation from writing here... I thought it was my safe place, where I could write about my feelings and the things I go through without being judged. I was wrong. It's a long story, but I'm not sure when I'll be back.

I hope all of you stay safe, healthy and happy.

Retail Therapy, v. 3,219,486

All I can say is that I've rediscovered my inner mall rat. Okay, okay... it's not that bad, but I have, once again, braved the mall to do some shopping. And liked it. The trick is, I've found, to know what you want before you go in (or at least have a good idea. Going in with no game plan whatsoever is a profound form of madness, kind of like Britney Spears' very public disintegration, but without the godawful weave and optional toe jam.), keep your standards in place (don't, in a moment of weakness and/or indecision-induced hysteria waver in your resolve to NOT buy the faux iguana, periwinkle, fur-trimmed, ankle-length satin wrap dress. Again, unless you're Britney. Then it's a step in the right direction. ANYTHING that covers your twat is a step up if you're Britney. Especially if it comes with a coating of penicillin.), know which stores are ...

(...)

Are you taking notes?

Know which stores are most likely to carry items you can a) afford, and b) still stand the sight of after you get them home. That 'B' one is important. I'm not sure what it is, but they definitely pump something into the air conditioning at the mall... something that renders one's judgement temporarily useless and/or actively BAD. You're sitting there, under some kind of brain cloud, convinced that the article you're holding, which bears nothing so much as a resemblance to a baboon's ass, is something that you not only can't live without, but will, in fact, make you look like Heidi Klum. (Who, by the way? I can't stand. Something about her just makes me want to smack her. I don't know why. Maybe it's that whole tall/blonde/criminally good looking thing. I can't say for sure. Can't she just go back to her Amazon sisters and leave us short brunettes in peace? She should so fear my sporkly wrath.)

I got some super cute shoes today at Dillard's. Two pairs. I have only one regret... the first pair is wonderful. Gianni Bini, navy blue, high-heeled slides with a silver buckle on the top. Tres cute. And on sale, FYI. The second pair? Well, this is what I get for not paying attention when the helpful sales lady found me JUST what I was looking for in a pair of flats. Great looking shoe. Comfortable, too! And also? ON SALE. I get them home, in a stupor of shopping excess ('cause I also got a new purse (also fab), two new shirts, some hair stuff, etc.), and was showing off my booty (as in loot, not as in ass. Come on, people.) to my hubby when I glanced at the box my flats came in...

Jessica fucking Simpson.

NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!

Oh, the humanity! I SWORE I would never buy a pair of shoes with that idiot's name on them. SWORE! And there I was, paying for my shopping perfidy by not only owning a pair of her shoes, but fully intending (God help me) on wearing them anyway.

I'm pretty sure I'm going to hell.

What Are You Looking At?

Okay, so Splat over there was having a bit of a furball issue. Stupid anti-spam registry thing (kitties! and shoes! and kitties in shoes! No... wait... that's not right. Oh, shut up.) was acting all defective and not letting people join. I'd still be sitting here all feeling unloved and shit if someone hadn't FINALLY emailed me to TELL me the damned thing had a bug up its ass. But thanks to Jen *waves at Jen with a fabulous sense of timing* we can all now breathe easy...

Splat is still up, running like a well oiled machine, and... actually letting people register now.

Isn't that festive?

So get your ass over there already. Geez, do I have to do EVERYTHING for you people?

FYI?

Splat.

(...)

Oh. I guess you want more, now, don't you?

That, my friends, is a long dead message board of mine that I am resurrecting from a coma. It's sat there, untouched and unloved, for quite some time. I used to have (as some of you know) a rather busy message board, but closed it down, oh... two years ago? Something like that. Long story. So then I started to put this one together, keeping the membership limited to a few very good friends. Well, one thing led to another and, before you know it, it was gathering dust bunnies and serving as nothing so much as a reminder to me that I do, in fact, have motivation issues. Quelle surprise.

So, lately I've had the itch. Not that kind of itch, thank you very much. Get your minds out of the gutter. I've been craving some more company, plus, I admit, I've been also craving the short term high of beefing up my own message board. I totally get consumed with editing the files, tweaking this, deleting that, moving everything else... okay, it's not for everyone, but by god for about an hour (during which I am prone to particularly vicious outbursts of extremely creative cursing. You should see it. It's festive.) I am the ruler of my own little universe. And I like it like that.

WHAT?!?

Anyhoo. I've started adding hacks and playing with the options on the site. I'm now ready for the ultimate step... inviting strangers in. I don't promise to like any of them... I mean, any of you... I mean, no, no, I TOTALLY like you, I meant those OTHER strangers. Them. Over there... *points*

Uhhh...

So how 'bout that weather?

(...)

Now you're all officially invited to come join me at the message board. There are only under a dozen of us at this minute, so you'd be getting in on the ground floor, so to speak. Which is nice, sometimes, 'cause I hate that feeling of stepping into a large group that's already known each other forever and doesn't play well with others. See, get in now and later, when other strangers join? You'll TOTALLY be in a position to point and laugh! And I mean that in the nicest way possible.

Really.

Oh, just shut up.