Apology accepted, Captain Needar

OK, I apologize about the men are dogs thing. I was ticked about Craig.

Men aren't dogs. They're cute and cuddly cats. Aardvarks? Sigh. If only I could spell.

In kinder, gentler news, I have learned that someone actually read one of my blogs! This made me beyond happy. Bless you, gentle child of the universe. We writers want to be read, dammit!

Someone is piping gently...must be Pan. Excuse me while I go and make him a sandwich.

The Blogging of Christ

OK, that was irreverent. You know, blogging instead of flogging? Nevermind.
I have more or less recovered from Craig Ferguson's alleged infidelity (ha! ha! ha!). I'm so sad. As in, mildly pathetic.
It's a cloudy day out there. My friends are due back in a few hours. It seems like I get up and they're here three seconds later. Time is racing, for some reason. Always seems the way when you need it to s...l...o...w d...o....w....n. Yep.
Today I read about Bush's latest nominee for the supreme court, a Ms. Miers. Hmm. The Washington Post had a whole bit about how Bush prefers to stick to the folks in his inner circle (think: book burnings! Bible reading! bad comb-overs! watching The Price is Right and extolling the virtues of Bob Barker!) instead of looking at "sterling resumes" from other sources. Gee, what a surprise! Bush is a schmuck, but shh, be careful, a Secret Service agent is reading this as we speak. Whatever has happened to America since 9-11 sure as shit hasn't been pretty, but that's just me.
I also wonder who in the world Martha Stewart is supposed to be. I caught a brief unenlightening glimpse of her talkshow thingie and it was great watching her struggle to be all Donna Reed-esque. In fact I think she's a tough person who doesn't tolerate fools, but since this is America, she must be poured into the genteel feminine mold of your choice. Donna Reed seems to be the ticket. I don't think somehow we are seeing the "real Martha", but I'll spare you the true rant, 'cause I don't got no energy, people! Pass me the gravy, Ma.
Lord-e-loo, Miss Sue, I got too much to do.
Which brings me to decision-making and self-help books. What I have learned is this: self-help books suck, and decisions are required of us all. To be a mature adult, you have to make a few.
Just don't take insider trading tips and end up at Camp Cupcake, like Martha. Even if you get three TV shows out of it.
The moral of the story is, it pays to be right-wing and conservative and well-connected. It also pays to be Martha Stewart in prison, 'cause when you get out, people want to jump on that bandwagon like nobody's business.
As for me, I mourn the passing of Mr. Rogers, and the perfidy of Scottish men.
Get over it, will ya?

Sharon Stone and Scottish Men

It took me twenty minutes to CREATE this blog! Oy, God, Almighty!
I'm tired. This shall be brief, o great void of cyberspace. I just read that Craig Ferguson is dating Sharon Stone, for godsakes, the first legitimized American porn star. I mean, come on, Craig!! Basic Instinct? Whatever. Men are such dogs at heart.
So no more Craig Ferguson references from yours truly.
It's funny. As single, independent women who struggle to be taken seriously, it's often true people just assume you are aching to have a man. We all ache to have someone to share life with, but I think America really is baffled by happy single women. They assume we're just dying 'cause we're alone. And maybe we're not. Being single can be a tremendous blessing, actually, and not just b/c of previous bad relationships, etc. It can just be a really good time to be alone and to grow with yourself. I have found that to be true, personally.
But this is far too deep from tongue-in-cheek me! My God, Jim, I don't recognize myself. Beam me up, Scotty.
I am a tad sad over Craig. As if. At least I don't write online blogs courting him. Some woman out there does. That kind of frightens me.
It's more like God, Sharon Stone???? Puleeze. It's as original as a PB & J sandwich.
With that, I move off, firmly, alone into the proverbial sunset. Or, at least, bed.
Sigh.