Is it wrong that I think Maria Bamford is freaking hilarious? I'm almost afraid for some of you to watch the above clip (I do have some staid readers after all and I am really not into shocking anyone-- NOTE: she is a comedian, proceed at your own risk--)

But, if you like it-- there's so much more at youtube-- she's got a whole show she is doing "post nervous breakdown wherein she leaves L.A. and goes home to live with her parents in Minnesota" . . here's a link to the first in the series: The Maria Bamford Show

Anyway-- so the whole I'm gonna comment on each post thing? Yeah, glad you all gave me an out on that one seeing as there's no way in hell I can keep up. I'm already like days behind and it's stressing me out, so-- no, that was a bad idea-- I'm going back to being a really lousy blogger who doesn't care if people hate me because you know what?<-- it turns out THAT is my essential nature.

*hand to god*

For my birthday, T gave me a number of lovely (and thoughtful) gifts. Among them was a book titled, What French Women Know where it clearly states (and I quote) "It's not the shoes, the scarves, or the lipstick that gives French women their allure. It's this: French women don't give a damn. They don't expect men to understand them. They don't care about being liked or being like everyone else. They generally reject notions of packaged beauty. They accept the passage of time; celebrate the immediacy of pleasure; like to break rules; embrace ambiguity and imperfection; and prefer having a life to making a living."

Phew.

And here I thought there was something wrong with me. Turns out? I'm just French.

So, Operation Post On Every Comment-- cancelled. wheeeee-- more time to make rice krispie treats.

But seriously? I would love to share some details of my life since last we met. However, seeing as I (most thrilling) took the day off Thurday which kind of slid into doing precious nada on Friday and then of course it was Saturday, i.e. the weekend and next thing I know I'm lounging about all day Sunday trying to find my mojo to get just one blessed thing done--

Sad truth? Putting up a post here will constitute the only thing I have actually done in three days. I haven't even walked the dogs.

And it's rather troublesome because instead of all this rest giving me new and fresh energy, oddly-- it's making me MORE tired and less able to even think about acting like a human being and doing things like getting dressed or washing my face.

No need to worry though-- I have a fail safe routine to get my Mondays in gear with all pistons pumping (do note the orange suit against the blue boat . . I'm just sayin'):

Bisous, E

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