I felt like Laura Ingalls

Would you rather be called Pappy or Harriet?

I just reread this sentence from Things I've Bought That I Love blog for like, the third time, and it still makes me laugh:

"I have to wear clothes when I sleep. Even if it's hot out. I wasn't raised by some French grad students or whatever."

Do go check out the whole post. That blog is so great for someone like me, who can only afford to shop at Loehmann's and Target - they have the best underwear though, so even if I was a tribillionaire I'd still go there. Anyway, Things I've Bought is like going on a hedonistic spending spree without the Everestic credit card debt and self-loathing to show for it.

I'm feeling good about writing right now. I left my Ugly Betty alone for a week to concentrate on fine-tuning my Grey's. Came back to Betty on Friday, and lo, it wasn't so bad after all. Some of the dialog even made me laugh out loud. Huzzah.

Slacker excuses
Total computer meltdown hard drive annihilation situation. Am now rocking a brand new Macbook (hello credit card debt!) and thanking God, Steve Jobs, and all else that's holy for a prophetic vision telling me to back up, like right now. I managed to save everything, right down to my calendar full of competition deadlines.

Oooh, I also went to the desert which was so hot and beautiful. I totally need to get those pictures online. Everyone should go visit Pappy and Harriet's Pioneer Town Palace - three buck beers and mesquite barbecued everything! Totally yum.

David Gilmour wuz here

I just hit the wall. No wait. That's a total lie. I hit the wall, like, three days ago, and I've been just running at it and bashing my head into it repeatedly ever since.

C'mon, you know this wall. It's that big ugly mother, dismal grey breezeblock. About thirty feet high and kinda scuzzy. Right next to the kilroy wuz here graffiti is a message for me, in ALL CAPS. And it goes something like this:

"You are the worst writer in the world ever and your current script stinks worse than those skunks that hang around your neighborhood at night. Why are you even trying? You should go find another job at once. Something menial. That doesn't require an ounce of creativity. You could start by cleaning this wall for one."

Hmph. Stupid wall. Like I said, it's been three days, and my head is all bloody and smashed to bits (metaphorically, c'mon I'm not that screwed up) and the wall still stands. Is it growing? I think it's growing.

Slacker excuses
There is no excuse for me this week.