No Photos

I have momentarily mislaid my camera and so I regret to inform you that there will not be 10 pictures of random cats in windows as you're accustomed to. I'm praying with my entire heathen heart that I haven't lost the camera and that it's somewhere in my home, possibly wedged between the sofa cushions.

I am happy to report that it's now officially tights season which means that you will not see this bitch without tights on for at least 6 more months. I love tights. They make me feel like I might still one day be a ballerina.

Here's my latest piece for Maven, called "As Good As it Gets??" This is not my original title. I called it "You Make Me Want to Be a Lamer Woman," which I think is funnier, but they did keep my bit about the poop (you'll have to read it to see what I mean), so I can't complain. I think my next piece will be about how the concept of "friends with benefits" truly sucks, mostly because the benefits aren't that great. I was also thinking about writing about how, in some ways, men should be considered at least partially handicapped b/c of testosterone. I truly believe that it keeps men from thinking clearly or acting compassionately and that they can't really help it. Not all men, but some. Many. Even so, I'd date this guy because he is so funny.

Nothing earth-shattering happened in screenwriting class. We watched a little Buster Keaton--a short scene where he comes out a store and pets a dog and he's so boring that the dog just walks away--would rather not even be petted by him. I don't think I have it in me to be a screenwriter. Or a fiction writer, for that matter. Just a blogger. Just an occasional blogger, that's my thing now.