The internet is really mostly blessing these days but there are those rare curse-y moments where I’m stuck on Pinterest following a link to a Lauren Conrad demonstration on blow drying and I’m kicking myself because I’m actually nodding my head all “oh that totally makes sense, Lauren Conrad” and then I’m stunk down an etsy wormhole and I have already spent too much money on ridiculously amazing boot socks and then my vet tells me that since he shaved my superpuppy down a bit due to some matting around his neck he’s going to need a SWEATER for the winter.
Look ma! This one has leg warmers!
(What the crap? That’s not even a real dog in that dramatic photo. But he sure looks like he’s getting mentally ready for all the jazzercize! Let’s get physical, physical, I want to get physical…)
So, here I am, looking for goddamn sweaters for my Shih Tzu instead of
and/or reading Outlander (a book I have been trying to read for many many years because every person is all, “You like historical fiction! You HAVE to read this book!” and so I am finally, but it’s, like, a million and three pages and there is some not-that-easy-to-read old school Scottish-isms that take a lot of brainpower to figure out—”ya ken” is like our “yanno?”)
and/or plunging my toilet and putting away eleven loads of laundry and seriously can we take a minute to discuss the laundry phenomenon and how there is so much more laundry than there are actual, physical days to wear said dirty clothing and I realize that there are five people living in my house but I can’t believe how much laundry I do on a daily basis and I’m thinking the trick is to just leave the clean folded clothing in piles in the laundry room forever and then no one (ME) has to put it away and my ungrateful children can simply go down to the spooky, spooky basement and collect whatever clean clothing they need PROBLEM SOLVED
and/or watching episodes of The Walking Dead because I was getting kind of sick of waiting excruciatingly long weeks for new Homeland and Dexter episodes so now I have a new addiction in my life. (Yay?) To be honest, though, I’m kind of over Dexter. Everyone is entirely too orange these days and I spend too much time wondering if poor Joey Quinn has an actual disease in real life because there’s no way that he simply suffers from both tanorexia and anorexia and wondering who in the heck is dressing LaGuerta because somewhere along the way she changed from sporting normal business attire to dressing an awful lot like a Thanksgiving day parade float that swallowed a party pinata.
So yes. The internet. Mostly blessing, occasional curse.
Blessing because: everything is at my fingertips.
Curse because: everything is at my fingertips. I’m so sorry, my poor bank account. It’s not my fault that now Aritzia has e-commerce and I absolutely had to have that overpriced long sweater cardigan.
Blessing because: my family and friends can see what up to.
Curse because: my family and friends cans see what I’m up to at every second of every day. “Oh, there goes Ali again. Hitting the gingerbread donuts.”
Blessing because: everyone can comment.
Curse because: everyone can comment.
Blessing because: my friends can send me the most amazing things to look at like the best thing to ever be on the internet—Total Eclipse of the Heart: Literal Video. And I can send you to see *this* about the Freaks and Geeks reunion.
Curse because: CAT VIDEOS. And then more cat videos.
Blessing because: It has brought me amazing opportunities like work trips to New York in the middle of the week which included a really amazing press trip where I actually learned a lot about supplements and vitamins and healthy living and HOW TO TRUSS A CHICKEN, but also allowed me to spend an entire afternoon shopping solo in SoHo and to eat side dishes at Robert Di Niro’s restaurant with amazing friends and to purchase $9 bottles of water and to enable some awesome boot buying and to tourist-it-up in Rockefeller center to get some good shots of me and a famous tree.
Curse because: Today I have to buy a GODDAMN DOG SWEATER and I am no longer in New York City in December.
But at least I’m not plunging that toilet.