Care to hear about what has been going on over at Chez Charlotte for the past month or so? No, me neither. It has been its usual parade of suckage and I've made a vow not to drink or shop until I feel better. Why? Because I happen to be an idiot who is really big on the entire "self improvement" thing. I know, I know. It's just that I don't want to get dragged in to bad habits like solving the sad with the gin (oh, Lord, the gin. Why did I have to give up the gin? I would kill for a Hendrick's and tonic, or a Hendrick's martini, or a Macallan 18, neat, no, Macallan 25 or a nice shiny pair of Louboutins [sob]) or the shopping so I'm just going at it dry. Yup. Reading books, redoing apartment before departure for skiing and general Argentinian merriment.
I've been trying to read the early pages of blogs that I enjoy to see what things started out as and get a feel for how they got into the rhythm and I am coming up at a loss. Why? Easy: they can talk about all that stuff. By "stuff" I mean relationships and product recommendations and their general lives. I have this looming, lurking feeling of "why would anyone want to hear about any of that stuff from little old me?" This is an honest, pressing question. I do not think that blogs are the height of self indulgence, but they are when you don't blog well. Sigh.
I owe you all a pho post (mmm, pho) and will manage to peel myself away from thinking about my impending birthday (14 July) and the general state of affairs (which I wrote as state of fears, ah, Dr Freud). Deal? Deal.
