In which Poppy quotes a lot of old records, and then sets the record for ranting.

Sorry, yesterday I was way too busy to fill you in on the excitement in my life.

Because I was posting here, there, and everywhere.

I was also waiting for the electrician or someone like him because Lord knows when these two fabulous bloggers come to stay with me in Chicago, they deserve to have lights that work.

Not to mention the new carpeting that got installed. (I'll pretend it was for them. Because that will make me look like such a great hostess.)

And I was trying to buy a copy of this from the local independent bookstore. Which only had one copy, and then couldn't find it for me on the shelves. After a bit of fruitless searching, some foot-tapping, sighing, and eye-rolling, I told the clerk "this is your cue to offer to special-order it for me." Honestly, here I am getting off my ass and going into a bookstore instead of 1-clicking the thing from Amazon, which would have been easier, faster, and cheaper. That bookstore should be kissing my feet, instead of wasting my time. Fuckers.

And now? Blogger has added word verification to the posting process. So when I--the princess of punctuation--realize that I left out a comma, I have to go through all that rigmarole to fix it. Honestly, Blogger ... what's with the passive-aggression? If you want me to move to Typepad, just say so.