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July 29, 2011

It's time to clean the desk

The dust balls are getting huge.


Yes, I'm alive, I've just been working my little snausage fingers to the bone. Which, with snausages, means you end up with normal-sized fingers at the end. Fairy tale updated!

I would also like to tell you about online dating but that would imply I have broken my years-long anti-online-dating stance and I shall admit no such thing. So let us all do it hypothetically and say the following:

1) Hypothetically, it seems that online dating is no different from real-life dating. The guys prefer to make the first move. If the female makes first contact the female gets sent to the death star.

2) The Death Star is fine, that's where I meet most guys in real life anyway. Though I call it "the grocery store."

3) However, this one aspect of online dating takes away from its catalog-esque appeal. Being window dressing is boooooring.

4) It's actually much more fun to go shopping at Amazon or Zappos or Etsy because you find something you like, you give it your address and it shows up and doesn't try to murder you or tell you you're fat. No wonder online shopping feels so good. It's practically therapeutic.

5) Mind you, I haven't actually gone on a date. I've only been caught in the (hypothetical) electronic web of blabbery that precedes a date.

Remember when it was considered pervy and creepy and flat-out pathetic to date online? Well if you don't remember that far back in time then get up off your chair right this second and go peer into a mirror and appreciate your poreless, unlined skin with no crow's feet and think about that time last week when you got carded.

The rest of us will be over here thinking that maybe we should run off and start a country called Old Fashioned Iowa where people meet through mutual friends, bake sales and whatever other Leave It To Beaver dating fantasies we hold from tenth grade.

Not that it's impossible to meet people in Metropolis. I got hit on last week while pumping gas. He had a teardrop etched underneath his left eye. Perhaps it was a symbol of his deep emotional maturity?

Ah, city life. You are so funny with your freeways and psychopaths.

I do have some good news for you today. Remember that terrible haircut I got back in May that I paid $13 for and then felt completely unable to complain about because it was so cheap and yet so bad? No? Probably because I felt dumb complaining about a bad $13 haircut. ANYWAY. It's grown out enough that I can go sheepishly visit my real hair magic man and get it fixed. And I'm in one of those "maybe I should get a beehive as a tribute to Amy Winehouse" moods so you have no idea what this day may bring.

Keepin' it fresh, people.

Posted by laurie at July 29, 2011 9:18 AM