Thursday, September 29, 2005

Why I don't need to update my blog.

Originally uploaded by Trilby.
OK, it's been two weeks. But I really don't even need to tell you that, do I? And I don't need to tell you what I've been doing, either, do I? No, I don't.

And I don't need to keep asking rhetorical questions, either, because not only do I already know the answers, so do you.

This is because I have become you.

Want proof? How about this: Like Blackbird, I'm constantly taking pictures with a digital camera.* Like Jasmine, I'm spending a lot of time mooching around Chicago. Like Susie Sunshine, much of this time has been spent in parking garages wondering where the hell my car is.

It gets worse--like Badger, I have just embarked on a long and costly Target run (well, costly for Target, anyway; you could sneeze in a Neiman Marcus and it would cost you what I just spent.) And I was in a state of bliss the whole time. I mean, sure, I told myself I was going there to buy children's birthday presents, but then I was all Halloween paper plates! Yes! Halloween candy! Throw it in the cart! Work out clothes! Sweet! Oooh, hair styling stuff is on sale! And then I found the perfect el cheapo knock off of a Marc Jacobs' bag, so of course I had to buy it. (For those who are interested: actually I bought it in black, or more accurately, a pearly sort of charcoal gray.)

Like Fiddledee, I am a busty, freckly brunette currently taking almost daily yoga classes. And scarily enough, she practically had to kidnap me to get me to start doing it--but I like it. A lot. So not only am I her doppelganger, I have Stockholm Syndrome.

And that's not the scariest part. The scariest part is that like Joke, I just bought two products designed to clean, shine, and generally love up the interior of my car. Yeah, I know--he has car cleaning stuff like I have lipsticks, and two products won't impress him--but frankly, I'm pretty surprised at myself.

So basically, if you're reading this, the chances are I'm going to become you very soon.


*Unlike Blackbird, I can't get it together to upload them.


  1. DAMN those parking garages. DAMN THEM ALL TO HELL.

    But YAY FOR TARGET! (cute purse too many compartments for me though, I wouldn't be able to find anything.)

    PS. My secret code to be able to post this was MMXMSTTA, which seems like shorthand of a stripper name.

  2. yes.
    yes, I will admit it.
    I upload.
    I upload fast and well.

    and I have a knock-off purse from target too.

  3. Hell, I'm just trying to reconcile the twin visions of yoga and Manhattans.


  4. Target is THE place to buy Marc Jacobs knockoff purses. As you now know.

    And here I thought your laptop had just up and died again, or something.

  5. Oooh, girl I don't know if you want to become me right now, as I am so very broke at the moment, "Aunt Flo" is visiting, and did I mention I'm broke? So sad so sad.

    On the bright side, I may take my arse to the MCA this weekend to check out some art for free -- thank you annual membership!


Gentle Readers:

For the time being, I've turned off comment moderation. Please don't spam; it's not nice.

xxx, Poppy.