I Am Still Alive

I was toying with the idea of just retiring the blog, but I know how all three of you love to read it. Just don't expect the frequency I gave you back when I rode a desk. Right now, I'm coloring my hair, so I thought I would take this down time to throw you a bone.

Check it out: I went to Victoria's Secret the other day and dropped $177 on fancy underwear. You would to, if some angel approached you with a measuring tape and handed you a 34D bra. It's like a dream, a fantasy! I owe everything to the birth control patch, because puberty didn't do anything for me. Now all I have to do is whittle down the old tummy, and I'll finally be excited about swimsuit shopping.

Speaking of swimsuits (oh, yeah, I know how to segue), I'm going somewhere I never thought I would go. Somewhere I've hoped to never have to go. California. I know, it's horrible. But, I'm doing it out of love, so it shouldn't be that bad. Still, if sometime in the week following March 20, the Big One hits, you'll know why. Pray for me.

So, what's stuck in my craw lately? The Bloomberg administration was bandying about the the idea of a new nightlife license which would effectively close some bars at 1 am, but due to pressure from the New York Nightlife Association, Mike says they probably won't get to that this year. So, that's good. People still don't know how to walk down the street in the most efficient way, but I'm going to have to accept that this is an issue about which only I am concerned.

Oh, there's more, but it's time to rinse.