Getting Back To Business

What I did last week: read some books, ate some cake, watched the Olympics, surfed the Internet, did some laundry, Twittered (a lot), did laundry (a lot), contemplated the futility of ever having any real authority in my household, coined the term ‘boobaphobe,’ defended the term ‘boobaphobe,’ read some more books, worried that I should be reading better books given my limited amount of reading time, worried that I might have more in common with ‘Twilight Moms‘ than is strictly comfortable, dismissed idea that I should be reading better books given fact that I’ve read Livy’s Ab Urbe Condita in Latin and liked it, got the song ‘Sherry’ by Journey stuck in my head, ate more cake, watched more Olympics, did more laundry, Twittered some more, read my own blog without ever once having to worry about becoming calcified by narcissism because, hey, it wasn’t me writing the blog last week! and just generally contributed nothing to the betterment of the world other than care for my lovely children, who, as it happened, managed to not kill me. Barely, but still.

All things considered, it was not a bad week. I don’t feel any more rested now than I did last Sunday night, but whatever. I didn’t really expect to. Until someone gives me a few days off from everything, I’m pretty much resigned to existing in a perpetual state of functioning exhaustion.

So I’m ready to commence this week. There’re just a few small matters of business to take care of first:

1) You read my guest posters? You totally should. They were amazing. They talked vaginas, more vaginas, the radicalness of mommyblogging (from a dad’s perspective), the reasons why the road more medicated is sometimes the road best travelled, corpses in bathrooms, team building and swallowing cameras, how to be almost sort-of always sometimes Canadian, and – because it wouldn’t be a well-rounded week of guest posts if it didn’t come full circle back to genitalia – balls and porn. A round of applause, please.

2) So, it came to my attention in a round-about way last week that there are maybe a few people who wouldn’t mind having the opportunity to vent a little bit about persons and things that make them crazy. But on the down-low, right? Because sometimes, you can’t vent openly without risking big trouble. The Basement is always available for that kind of thing, of course, but it occurred to me that sometimes we need to be invited to spill our guts, to be welcomed to vent and rant and get all messy. So, I was wondering, would any of you be interested in a sort of ranty, venty Bitchin’ Bitchfest Blog Exchange? Where we arrange some swapping of blog spaces so that we can all blog openly on a theme that isn’t entirely appropriate for our own blogs? Like, say, ‘Things (Or People) That Make You Go ARGH’? (Not that I would know anything about this, but, say, family members? In-laws? WHOMEVER?) Would you be interested in that? Leave a comment. Maybe I can arrange something.

3) I did a lot of reading last week. I liked it. But I’ve run out of books to read, and have exhausted my list of recommended reads and must-reads and Things To Read Just Because Everyone Else Is Reading Them And One Must Keep Up With The Culture Even If It’s Being Driven By Lovelorn Fifteen Year-Olds With Vampire Fixations. So, um… you got any recommendations? Fiction, please. And note that I’m not – as I discovered this past week – above reading books that are marketed to lovelorn fifteen year-olds with vampire fixations. But I’ll read anything, other than comic books. Unless they’re Archie comics. But I’ve read all of those. ANYWAY. You got any recommendations for end-of-summer book consumption?

4) I missed you.

This? Is my happy place. And also, the place in which I exist in a state of perpetual mental and physical exhaustion, and from which there is no vacation, but also, from which I have no real desire to vacate. Life is beautiful, and complicated. Or something like that.

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