My Fellow Bloggers

My kingdom for a hangover cure.

I should note that my kingdom largely consists of too many books, two loving hoodlum cats, a collection of fake fur coats, a decent laptop, and a now-broken mp3 player. But one person's trash is another person's treasure, so it's up for sale if someone can help me get rid of this headache and general sense of sluggish disenchantment.

It's always difficult, even on the best of days, when you wake up to make coffee and the cat vomits on your gorgeous Chinese silk duvet. Ozzy and his twin brother Rocco are my babies, and though they are filled with dog-like affection and almost spiritual playfulness, I wish they would be little more...useful...to my existence. Or, at least, act a little less like the dancing thugs in West Side Story.

Last night was fun, a bit of a comedy of errors given my cellphone, which is the AT&T equivalent of two tin cans attached by a highly dubious shoestring. And I got the date wrong for Hair Supply, the heavy metal Air Supply cover band. Nonetheless, a good night, from what I remember.

I did remember meeting a fellow blogger, a journalist who has recently started her own blog. We had an instant connection, the commonality of being part of a new writing endeavor. Blogging is such an odd activity, a kind of self-publishing that is always confessional, even when the subject isn't cat vomit. It's a place without edits, where you can write about yourself with absolutely no outward influence--if you like, that is. And yet, unlike a diary, it is still an act of communication, and, as all four of my lovely readers should know by know, I do believe the quality writing must take into account its audience.

Am now going to slap on one of those cooling blue gel masks. I do have plans to see a band tonight, and a business meeting with my former High Times editor, but mostly it will be a day of--yes, you guessed it: repentance and recovery.

(p.s. for those of you worried about the gorgeous Chinese silk duvet cover, it's fine. Just scrubbed it and dropped it into the wash and it's already good as new).

(p.p.s. for those of you worried about Ozzy, he has been given a crushed Pepcid in his food and seems to be doing fine)

(p.p.s.s. my fellow blogger's blog, which is sharply written and covers our fun-loving obsessions with fashion and shopping, can be accessed at the left, or here.