Did I just up and ditch this sweet blog?
Wait -- no. That can't be right.
That sounds like what some girls do when they get a boyfriend-- they're all 'sorry I can't call or write or stay in touch cause you know I have this BOYfriend and I don't care what you are talking about because what could possibly be more interesting than this mad teenage crush I'm having-- but wait, I gotta take this call I think it is HIM calling me' . . .
Right? You know what I'm talking about.
For the record, my friends know that I have a cardinal rule about dinner parties: under penalty of death, do not seat me next to someone who A) has just fallen in love or B) is in the middle of a divorce because I will climb into the middle of the dinner table and carve out my lower intestine with an oyster fork.
Seriously. People in category A or B are definitively the most boring people on earth as they have exactly one topic of concern -- a topic that no matter how dextrous a conversationalist you may be, you will never succeed in turning or changing as all roads lead back this one-- and, as their dinner partner, you can only be set free if you happen to have an oyster fork at the ready.
Oh hang on a sec--- I think that's my boyfriend calling me . ..
You know I would never share private updates in such a public forum. I am not the bare-all blogger. I know it's been awhile but remember me? I'm here to bore you with endless photos of walks with my aging dogs and to help you wean off the Ambien, Lunesta and Rozerem with the non-habit forming, non-narcotic wonder of my deep thoughts about growing your soul.
Actually, I came in here to tell you that I'm having a dinner party this weekend and was hoping one of you would want to sit next to me at the table?
All my IRL friends have declined, how odd . . .