“It was a day like any other…”
That’s how all those gritty, hard-nosed PI film noir narrations start, right? Well that’s kinda how I feel about this blog. I kept holding off cuz I wanted to make this very organized, eloquent entrance into the world of bloggery. But then that’s not very bloggy, is it? Also, I really hate blogs for the most part, so I thought, “Why would anyone wanna read mine?” That’s when I remembered how hard I rock. So here goes…
So yeah this is called BazBizBlog, and there will be lots of stuff about Bazaar Bizarre (the events, my book, and so forth) but it’s also just kinda my little breath of the ether in which I can rant and rave and babble, as is my wont.
So at this very moment, my lovelies, I am in a Panera Bread in Portland, Maine. I came home to Massachusetts from Los Angeles for my Grandma’s funeral this week. She passed away somewhat suddenly, so shit’s kinda gloomy with the fam. As it turns out, my folks had planned this big family trip to OOB (Old Orchard Beach), ME for this very week. I had bowed out of the original trip, but I think my Grandma musta had other plans, cuz her timing is pretty spot-on. It’s not like super swell or anything to come home for a funeral, but it is nice seeing the family. I got to meet the newest Der Ananian, Stephanie, this week, too. She, her sister Ashley and my sis-in-law Jen will be joining us in Maine later today. It’s rainy out and my folks are mall walking nearby. I am trying hard to nurse my 4-dollar lemonade as slowly as possible so they don’t boot me. But hey, if they don’t want people hanging out blogging and looking at copious amounts of donkey porn, they shouldn’t advertise “free wi-fi.”
I have been working on sorting out all the applications, vendors, fees, and questions for this year’s Bazaar Bizarre. Just in case you don’t already have it marked in your Swarovski-encrusted Blackberry, the dates are as follows: Cleveland is gonna be Saturday December 2nd, while Boston & LA will be Saturday December 16th. You really should come. Anyway I am on the verge of pulling out what little hair I have (buzzed, not balding) trying to get all this shit figured out. As my best friend and punk-rock-nurse Shannon LaBoskey likes to point out, I am something of a gadget queen, and I love to automate any task I can. So of course in the interest of simplifying the process of curating and administrating BazBiz, I inevitably end up with many headaches. However, I am convinced that I am only partially responsible for the hassles. I get it that not everybody wants to be as techie as I am, but hey – I make the rules, so I guess they have to be. Of course, wishing doesn’t make it so. Good thing I don’t really enjoy just sitting around on the beach, so I can spend this “vacation” working on shit. Needless to say as a fuller-figured gal I am less than jazzed at the thought of prancing around on the sand in my Speedo. I do love prancing though.
Ok so there is a freaking huge line in Panera Bread and the crystal meth smile of gayer-than-gay cashier, Chad, is starting to crack. I better bust a move on outta here and find my folks at the Portland Mall.
Smell ya later, suckers.
That’s how all those gritty, hard-nosed PI film noir narrations start, right? Well that’s kinda how I feel about this blog. I kept holding off cuz I wanted to make this very organized, eloquent entrance into the world of bloggery. But then that’s not very bloggy, is it? Also, I really hate blogs for the most part, so I thought, “Why would anyone wanna read mine?” That’s when I remembered how hard I rock. So here goes…
So yeah this is called BazBizBlog, and there will be lots of stuff about Bazaar Bizarre (the events, my book, and so forth) but it’s also just kinda my little breath of the ether in which I can rant and rave and babble, as is my wont.
So at this very moment, my lovelies, I am in a Panera Bread in Portland, Maine. I came home to Massachusetts from Los Angeles for my Grandma’s funeral this week. She passed away somewhat suddenly, so shit’s kinda gloomy with the fam. As it turns out, my folks had planned this big family trip to OOB (Old Orchard Beach), ME for this very week. I had bowed out of the original trip, but I think my Grandma musta had other plans, cuz her timing is pretty spot-on. It’s not like super swell or anything to come home for a funeral, but it is nice seeing the family. I got to meet the newest Der Ananian, Stephanie, this week, too. She, her sister Ashley and my sis-in-law Jen will be joining us in Maine later today. It’s rainy out and my folks are mall walking nearby. I am trying hard to nurse my 4-dollar lemonade as slowly as possible so they don’t boot me. But hey, if they don’t want people hanging out blogging and looking at copious amounts of donkey porn, they shouldn’t advertise “free wi-fi.”
I have been working on sorting out all the applications, vendors, fees, and questions for this year’s Bazaar Bizarre. Just in case you don’t already have it marked in your Swarovski-encrusted Blackberry, the dates are as follows: Cleveland is gonna be Saturday December 2nd, while Boston & LA will be Saturday December 16th. You really should come. Anyway I am on the verge of pulling out what little hair I have (buzzed, not balding) trying to get all this shit figured out. As my best friend and punk-rock-nurse Shannon LaBoskey likes to point out, I am something of a gadget queen, and I love to automate any task I can. So of course in the interest of simplifying the process of curating and administrating BazBiz, I inevitably end up with many headaches. However, I am convinced that I am only partially responsible for the hassles. I get it that not everybody wants to be as techie as I am, but hey – I make the rules, so I guess they have to be. Of course, wishing doesn’t make it so. Good thing I don’t really enjoy just sitting around on the beach, so I can spend this “vacation” working on shit. Needless to say as a fuller-figured gal I am less than jazzed at the thought of prancing around on the sand in my Speedo. I do love prancing though.
Ok so there is a freaking huge line in Panera Bread and the crystal meth smile of gayer-than-gay cashier, Chad, is starting to crack. I better bust a move on outta here and find my folks at the Portland Mall.
Smell ya later, suckers.
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