I’m sorry little blog, it’s just that my life lately seems so…domestic, or…interesting to me, but I can’t be sure it will be interesting to anyone else.
It’s all about the dog, and my little cold I’m nursing and I fear I’m becoming a hypochondriac suburban housewife without even stepping foot in Aurora.
I have no problem with this at the moment, but when I’m racing home to watch 24 and that is what is most important to me, well then, I know it’s not necessarily blog-worthy.
What stories or anecdotes do I have? None so much, I’m writing for Chicagoist, feeling stronger and better about that, but I still f it up all the time, just not looking closely enough, I really should write fiction.
I had a nice social weekend filled with crab legs and friends, but eh…who cares?
I watched Cassanova, that was okay, but eh….
It was my mom’s birthday? I got that going for me? Is that something?
I read one of the best books I’ve read in a long time, “Never Let Me Go” by Kazuo Ishiguro, but I can’t really talk about that unless you’ve read the book too.
Work is fine…eh.
Okay fine, lets just face it, I’m waiting for Memorial Day and my (hopefully) 4 day weekend.
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