My alter-ego wrote this...pay no attention to the chick behind the curtain.

Catching up
Been awhile since I've bloggded. Nothing much to talk about; which seems to be epidemic here on the Myspace lately. We're all out of topics, are we? And of course, myspace blogs must be topical because, really, who wants to read someone's random stupid daily boring crap?

Haha, you do. Right? Here you go.

So, speaking of MySpace: where is everyone? Oh yeah, you're all on Facebook and Twitter. Me too. I love how I can now find all the same people and follow them somewhere else, getting different little glimpses into their lives.
Why is that? Why isn't Myspace enough anymore? I mean, really, how different are the other social networks? Twitter is basically just like the "status updates" here. Facebook is just one big comment page with a notebook attached and photo albums, right? Are we that capricious and bored that we fool ourselves into thinking that it must be waaaaayyyy more happenin' at another url?
My facebook name is Vanessa Fravel
My Twitter name is NessaLuv.
Just sayin'.

Maybe Tom should poke Rupert and remind him that the little people of the Unwashed Masses don't like to have Big Brother peeking over their shoulder. Just a thought.

I got a job, again. After my happy little four week stint as a "Holiday Cashier' at the Barnes & Noble, I was more than okay being let go, released back into the wild of non-responsiblity and relative autonomy of the housewife gig. Not bored, that's for sure. Nope. Not lonely. Not back to wearing sweats that were chosen based on smell. No, I was just fine.
So I can't really explain why I was so excited when they offered me a 1-hour-per-week position as the Story Lady. I might have yelled something like "Hell Yes!" and bought more new shoes.
It's pretty fun. I get to read a couple of books to the kids whose desperate stay-at-home parent bundles them up and trudges to the upper floor of the bookstore. We do a craft. (Toddlers with scissors; always a good time.) We read some more. I give them sugar and send them back to their glassy-eyed mums who are huddled in a semi-circle trying to remember how to have a conversation with an adult.
I have to admit: I was a little nervous about it. I'm not really "Story Lady" material, you know. But once I put the little martini shakers in their hands and taught them all how to tell the difference between the word "fuck" and the word "buggar", we got on just fine. I might have wanted to choose a book other than "My Life In Gay Porn" from the "Alternative Lifestyles" shelf, but it's a learning process. Apparently those are NOT the picture books that were expected.

What else...what else....Oh! Yeah! I almost forgot.

I wrote a book.

Haha!