You might also be thinking, "Maybe Deb hasn't had time to blog because she met a delicious, beardy man and has been too busy having sexual relations to blog." In my dreams.
Perhaps you thought, maybe Deb has reverted back to her Senior year at Redlands/Grad School/BU Job/Tanglewood Summer of '09 days and is drunk all the time and so cannot blog because she is nursing a consistent hangover, and is in the process of becoming a functioning alcoholic. Alas, this too is not the case. On Saturday I had two sips of wine and almost fell asleep. If my mom is reading this (which if you are, Mom, when you call me and I miss the call and then I call you back two seconds later, why don't you ever answer the phone? I mean really. In two seconds, have you put the phone down, put it on silent and sprinted into another room of the house?") she will find this very familiar.
But since I have now dis-proven all of these theories, perhaps you are now thinking, "Oh no. Deb is sad and depressed and hence loves nothing." Not to fret!
Really what I was doing was waiting for the ultimate thing to love to return to a more frequent blog schedule. And here it is. Today, on Monday, September 6, 2010 Deb loves...
I mean it COULD NOT have been more beautiful the past two days. It is almost unreal. We were supposed to get a hurricane and instead, what do we get? Three dry, sunny days. I mean, COME ON.
On Saturday I walked outside with Penny for about 9 hours and every hour on the hour we would say, "This is the best day ever." Then I sat on a bench by Jamaica Pond with my friend Nicole and said, "This is the best afternoon ever." And then on Sunday, my other friend Nicole and I wandered around and bought fake eyelashes and ate sushi, and I said, "THIS is the best day ever."
And then today, the day of labour, where in fact no one has to labour at all (except my dear hetero selling her fancy yoga pants), I will be riding in a swan boat with my Sies and my Mologna and probably about 30 tourists in a man-made pond so shallow I could probably wade in it with my half-calf hunter boots and still have dry feet.
But my boots aren't shaped like swans. And I like sitting down better than wading.