I keep running out of blog ideas. Yesterday I googled "Fun Things to Blog" and got page after page about how to do product reviews and interviews and political rants and household tips and all I could think was "WHO WANTS TO READ ABOUT THAT???" Actually, I guess a lot of people do, but they aren't the people reading my blog. Of course, if I blogged about those things, maybe they WOULD be the people reading my blog.
I could write about my current life's excitement, but last night I watched "Assault of the Sasquatch" on Chiller, and it was so bad I couldn't even heckle it, so I spent 2 hours stalking people on Facebook instead. This morning, I am sitting on the couch watching another movie and using a pile of unfolded laundry as a blanket because my hair is wet and I'm freezing and I don't want to get up and get dressed because I might miss the part where Stanley Tucci sucks his housekeeper's toes. It's quite disturbing. Using the laundry as a blanket, I mean. Stanley Tucci sucking on toes is a riot. (If you share my sense of humor, the movie "Big Trouble" is a must-see. Mike, this does not apply you.)
What I really should do, according to my mother, is write a book. At least 3 of you keep telling me I'm Erma Bombeck-ie, who was quite the best-seller back in the 70's. The rest of you, of course, have no idea who Erma Bombeck is, but she was hysterical, and wrote newspaper columns and multiple books ("If Life is a Bowl of Cherries, What am I Doing in the Pits?" and "I Lost Everything in the Post-Natal Depression") She shared the difficulties of being a stay-at-home mother and housewife. I, however, haven't been a stay-at-home mom in nearly 7 years, and my only difficulty as a housewife is figuring out how I'm going to afford a maid to clean my house once my son goes to college next year and I can't use him as free slave labor.
I'm now to the part of the movie where the guy who plays Kronk is running naked through the airport, Tim the Tool-Man Taylor is attempting to throw a nuclear bomb off a charter plane to the Bahamas, and the spirit of Martha Stewart is barking "Arugula!". In the meantime, though my toes are warm under the pile of towels, my wet hair has turned into icy dreadlocks.
Seriously, I have nothing to blog about.