I can trace my internet absence directly back to the day I began streaming Netflix live (shakes fist in the direction of Netflix headquarters).
Two hundred episodes into 30 Rock, I began dreaming as Liz Lemon (she's such an anti-hero and yet everyone claims to relate to her...how does she DO that?)
A personal high point was the episode where her Mexican Sabor de Soledad chips caused a false-positive pregnancy test because they were flavored with bull semen.
Also a must: the jury duty and "night cheese" clips here (although a huge fan of night cheese, I had never thought to give a name to that particular activity...)
In other world news, I scored a fabulous (and dirt cheap) antique Italian bed on Craigslist (see this previous intriguing post about teen son room re-do). Yes, that's right. An antique Italian bed for a teenage boy. It looks like an Italian grandmother's deathbed, minus crucifix nailed into chipping plaster above headboard.
I won't tell him, but the kid looks a little like Liberace propped up on pillows and surrounded by his dogs. Don't worry, I'm going to paint a wall black and get him some Weezer posters...you know, man it up a bit. So Novogratz of me, don't you think?
And of course I've been both auctioneering and auctionee-ing. El Hombre de Ascot (from my racially-charged and controversial last auction report) made an appearance as a shadow of his former self. His ascot hung limply at his neck and his cheap romance novel hair was lifeless and more gray than I remembered. He didn't even try to bid against me in an effort to reinforce gender and cultural stereotyping. I guess his machismo has left the building. I recommend a bag of Sabor de Soledad.
And, possibly most interesting, is my transformation from cute hair person to Ringo Starr/Hasidic Jew in four short weeks. Short-haired people like me live in a dangerous world, walking a fine line between cute and absurd. Mere millimeters of hair away from ugly every day. Pray for us. For despite our heroic appearance, we suffer from self-doubt and unattractive side-poufs constantly.
Here is a picture of me and Ringo at the park just the other day:
(I'm just kidding...and this picture is from a movie...no actual Hasidic Jews were harmed in the making of this dumb joke).
So it's your turn to embellish mundane activities for our entertainment. What have you been up to? Do tell!