Still not dead yet...

Okay, I'm not going to pretend that I planned to leave this site twisting in the wind for almost a year.  Really, I made it this far, why not go for the full year?

But I've been thinking, if you drop off of Facebook because posting a 10 word status update or clicking "Like" feels like too much pressure to perform, maybe you need to get some perspective.  I suppose it could also be a really stupid form of filtering -- if you're either compulsive enough or charitable enough to keep checking on this site just in case, that maybe you're really a good friend.  But that's coming from me, the person who doesn't really know how to be a friend.  I'm one step up from throwing dirt on you at the playground when I really want to ask you to join me on the swings.  I was not only absent on the day they passed out friendship skills, I think any that I was born with were stolen out of my junior high locker.

So why break this ominous, tantalizing silence?  I'll tell you why, it's because I feel the need to rant incoherently and overdramatically about nothing really important:  I hate my shirt.  Today I elected to wear a shirt that quite frankly represents everything I hate in a shirt.  It's make out of a stretchy artificial fabric that doesn't breathe and hangs just a little too loosely.  It has a pretend cardigan built into it that only makes me look larger both from the front and the side, and it's black which guarantees that I will look like a vampire (and not the sparkly kind).  But I was out of options.  I didn't know what else to wear.  So I wore the shirt.  And some black dress pants.  And my black Birkenstocks.  Oh, yeah, stylin!

Because I say, fuck you shirt!  If I have to wear you all day, then you have to be seen with my Birkenstocks.  That's right, naked unmanicured hammer bendy hairy toes say HOLLA.  No power suits for me.  80s middle-aged secretary on top, 70s earth mother on the bottom.

Once I figure out how to get Vogue to declare "frumpy clothes I bought while clearly tired/insane/distracted/possessed that don't suit me but I have to wear occasionally because I have to get my money's worth out of it" as the new hawt items for fall, I will be sitting pretty.  Me and my stanky toes.

What else can I say?  I might say don't even get me started, because I may not be able to stop.