Friday, September 03, 2010

random drivel brain spew yada yada

Going through one of those patches of reading lots of other blogs and then either running out of time or feeling too cowed by other's humour/adventures/perfect lives to blog myself. Not so clever.

Feeling more technologically inept than ever before. Starting to have moments of real stress about re-entering the working world (no plans as yet) and being the tech neanderthal in the corner ...

Starting to have moments of real contemplation about re-entering the working world.

Hating the sound of my own voice, the read of my own words.

Cooking lots of food and having a giggle at this (thanks Rika).

Running some posts through here and discovering that I mainly write like either Jane Austen or Stephen King.

Noticing blogger's Stats tab probably months after it arrived and a bit weirded out to discover this is my most viewed post. Think it's something to do with people doing image searches, mainly on the still incredibly fugly necklace. Then I check the posts I linked to in that post, wondering if there's anything there to entice a random reader. Then I find I've linked to this post and with over a thousand views on the first one if there was ever a moment for the karma gods to come over and bite me in the ass it would be now. That chick's so going to find me.

Wondering whether twitter wouldn't be more appropriate to my available time and head-space these days but then realising I don't even have words to update my facebook status and that my friends, is a new kind of low.

Getting stuff done.

Feeling superior and laughingly agreeing with this, while at the same time feeling smug and dying for an excuse to post a picture of this,

our vintage veggie-rack not thrifted (urgh, spew, hate the word) but inherited and lovingly restored industrially powder-coated and styled by moi. [Frieda: 'zucchini lives in the fridge Mum!']

1 comment:

Stephanie Meade Gresham said...

You're both wrong. Zucchini lives in my tum.

And I find that just posting lots of photos helps fill the large, gaping holes of "nuttin good ta say".