Portrait of Self Involvement

Blogger Dashboard: Where the Sam Hill have you been, woman?

CDG: (wondering idly where that expression came from) Uhhh... cheating on you with Wordpress?

BD harumphs and stomps out of the kitchen.

In some seriousness, I've been writing a ton, but very little for public consumption. I've been self obsessed to the point of pain, tweeting (@rubysu87), dieting, watching my 33rd birthday approach like an oncoming locomotive. The usual.

My 15th high school reunion is a month from today. I'm old.

Felix is obsessed with Lightning McQueen and the anthropomorphic automobiles of Disney/Pixar's Cars, and my positive spin is that he's at least a young fan of the late Paul Newman, bless his blue eyes. To the negative, I'm pretty sure I could recite it.

I've been spending most of my time either looking under stones for a job or engrossed in a fictional town in north central Vermont, populated by determined innkeepers, hunky carpenters, flamboyant pastry chefs, and sexy lawyers.

The men in the white coats are coming for me with huge butterfly nets.

The dishes and laundry are piling up around me. I have a knitting book overdue at the library.

For those of you not in central MA, we had June in April for a week and all my flowers came up. The ornamental plum blossomed. We have baby birds in the backyard. I've been outside a lot. Felix is also obsessed with bubbles. What I've learned from this is that I still have pretty decent lung capacity, despite the extra weight, general out-of-shapeness, and lack of voice training for ten years.

That kid had me out in the yard blowing bubbles for three hours the other day.