Baby, I've got a whole lot of random here.

I have writer's block.

I stare at this big white screen and wonder "What do I have to say?"


Granted, about 76% of what spills out of my mouth is jibberjabber nonsense (really? only 76%? because I'm pretty sure it is more than that), but still. At least I'm saying something. Except that lately, I haven't been saying much of anything. Jibber jabber or otherwise.

I read writers like Miss Doxie and I think "Wow - she is hilarious. Genius! Why can't I write more like her?" And now, she even has a shop (www.shopdoxie.com), something I have always wanted to do, but never been brave enough to try.

Then I read posts by Ana and Cella and wish I was more clever, more creative, more eloquent, more like them.

But I'm not. I'm me. Today, I'm just stuck me. And possibly a little depressed. And tired. I have been pondering quitting blogging for a couple of weeks. I really enjoy it. I think it is fun. But I just don't do it enough. And part of why I do it is because I think it is neat that people read what I have to say. They like my blog. And I like that they like it.

Lately, I've had a few friends tell me that they don't read my blog anymore because I don't post enough. I don't blame them. I don't post enough. But I post as much as I can. But, that feeling - that dreaded feeling that I'm letting someone down....losing someone's interest....well, it drives me crazy. It makes me feel like a blogging failure.

Erikaboo no likey failure.

Since I have really nothing of interest to say, how about I just tell you what I've been up to lately? I know that this probably is about exciting to most of you as what I ate for lunch and when I last went to the bathroom, but then, Daisy and I can talk for hours about the food we wish our metabolism would let us eat and some people have an incredible talent for discussing bathroom talk at the dinner table (me), so maybe this will be of interest to you after all.

First of all. I have new hair. This picture made me realize that it was time for a new "do." Hi 40 year old mom with strange vest and turtleneck! How about coming over later for a hot cup of ovaltine? We can cut out coupons and talk about kids these days. And maybe, if us girls get too crazy, we can watch HSN or QVC!

Ew. Looking very Jan Brady is not okay with me. Especially when sitting next to a beautiful blonde. My hair is pretty much the same as before, except now I have bangs. I haven't had bangs in a long time, and I like them so far. I would call them "swoopy bangs." They tickle my eyebrows sometimes, and they definitely get in the way when I'm looking down. I'm keeping them, though for two (AMENDMENT! three) reasons:

1. You can't un-bang your hair once you get them
2. My forehead (thanks mom!) is quite big and shiny. It needed some curtains.
3. Also, in my fantasy land, bangs make me undeniably sexy and mysterious. All the Bond girls have bangs. So, now I am a Bond girl.

They are going to stick around for a while.

Also, I have a new hair lady. Her name is Jessica and she works at Ross the Boss and Co. in Bearden. She gave me the bangs. Some of you who know Knoxville, know that Ross the Boss is only about 1 step up from SuperCuts. Hair snobs across the land are falling over themselves in the shock that I spent only $23 (plus tip) for my haircut.

I go back and forth about which is better - fancy salon or walk-in chain.

On one hand, I like the shee-shee-poo-poo-ness of going to one of those fancy smanchy places. Sometimes they give you a bottle of water (or my favorite - glass of wine). Everyone is beautiful, fashionably dressed, and can pull off saying "dahling" and kiss-kissing each other on the cheeks. Also, they tell you how beautiful you are. And where did you get those fabulous shoes? And, honey, people pay lots of money to have lips like those. For a fleeting moment, you feel a teensy weensy bit like you are a famous celebrity.

On the other hand, if you go to a place like SuperCuts (or Ross the Boss), you don't feel like you have to be uber-fashionable just to go in the place. You can go in without any makeup. And greasy, Saturday hangover hair. You sit next to other "commoners" like yourself, just to get a little trim-trim. When I went to get my hair cut, I sat between a 9 year old punk getting his hair buzzed and an older lady having her hair "done." The price is cheap and the people are nice and normal.

So, I go back and forth. Right now, I'm more about the price than the environment.

Okay, moving on.

Next, last week, Daisy, the Knight, and I went off for a night of culture. We ate at Downtown Brewery and to see Aida (the Elton John version...not the opera. We are not THAT cultured).

At the brewery, the Knight got the beer sampler. There is no point to this story, other than to show you all the cute little beers he got. Baby beers!

See how proud he is? He is so proud.

Daisy and I thought Aida was fabulous (see the Knight for his version - he dozed off about 1/2 way through). The dancing, the music, the costumes - it was just so lovely.

Afterwards, we went to a local gas station for some caffeine and snacks. It was there, that I found the best thing of my month, possibly my year. A discovery such as this should only happen to me once every 5 years or so, because of my innate ability to go too far. To run it into the ground. To wear it to death. Because I think it is just that funny.

This is what I found:

Heee! Lil Chub! I just want to know who made this little guy? Did they create him just for me? Just to give me hours and hours of material to torture the Knight with? (Yes, I know I just ended that sentence with "with," but I don't think proper grammar applies when discussing a "Lil Chub".)

Just so you know how "Lil" this sausage is, I took a picture of it next to my camera case. I think he's about 3 inches long. Perfectly anatomically correct lil chub.

Now, isn't that helpful? I thought so. You are welcome.

Lil Chub makers - I luff you. You have made my month. Thanks.

Next on my list of random (only I could make a list of randomness - opposing and embracing the rules of randomness all in one action) is Thanksgiving. Thanksgiving wasn't funny or anything, but just pretty and delicious. We had dinnner with the Knight's extended family at his aunt's house, and let me tell you - they do Thanksgiving up right. They break out the crystal, silver, china, and starched linens. Little silver trays of appetizers sit all over the house. Every room has a beautiful fall arrangement complete with gourds, pretty rose-colored lilies, and anemones. You walk in, and you feel like you just stepped into a photo shoot for Southern Living.

Here is the big person table. We almost got to sit at it, but at the last minute, the Knight and I got booted. Maybe next year. If you click on the picture, I think it will get bigger. If I were immature and still in the 6th grade, right now is the time that I could make a perverted comment about touching the picture of the lil chub to make it bigger too, but I won't. You are welcome again.

Here is a close-up of the main centerpiece. Soooo pretty!

This is my favorite family picture - a pretty good summation of what most Americans do after ingesting all that turkey and gravy.


Okay, I think that's all I got. I told you I have writer's block. I'm planning a little Christmas party for my weekly supper and Grey's Anatomy firls group, so I should have some cute pictures of the girls and my decorations soon. But in closing, I present to you my favorite part of my apartment right now.

I love Christmas!


Anastasia said...

Ha-ha! This was completely funny, silly Boo! Writer's block, my foot! Or maybe Writer's block, my lil' chub!

Mel said...

I don't think you should quit blogging. Even though you don't update every day - I still check it every day.

And I very much enjoy what I read - except for the Lil Chub - kind of freaks me out a little. :)

ANYWAY - don't be a quitter!!!!! I couldn't handle it!

erikaboo said...

Ana - you are so clever. Ha!

Mel - I don't think you were the only one freaked out by the Lil' Chub. The Knight got so sick of me teasing him with it, that he finally grabbed it when I wasn't looking and hid it somewhere. He still won't tell me where it is.

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