My brain is mush these days. There are a million things going on, and I’m trying to make some deadlines so I can take some time off. Trying to work on three month’s worth of seasonal projects simultaneously leaves me exhausted at the end of the day. But enough of the whining already!
If I post this in bullet form will you think less of me?
Will you still love me?
Please say yes.
Thoughts from the past week:
1.Your metabolism does indeed change as you get older. ##^@%!%^@%?.
3. I love Australians. Always have. And Tim Tams, too. No, really. Love love love love love them both. And an afternoon spent tasting Australian food and wine at this year’s G’Day LA event in Century City only makes me want to pack a suitcase and visit. To the folks at Austrade – thank you!
4. Next month we’ll be frolicking on the beaches along the southern hemisphere for a few weeks. Don’t be surprised when you turn on the news and read how groups of South Americans all fainted and went blind because I took my shirt off. I’ve warned you.
5. Fellow bloggers and public relations firms, if you’d like me to read what you have to offer then introduce yourself. Say hello. Strike up a friendship. But please don’t blindly send emails where you’ve cut and pasted mattbites into the contents. You really know how to make a boy feel special. Who ordered the Tsk tsk with a side of Disingenuous?
8. Brrrr. It’s no secret that I can’t stand cold weather, but our recent dips into the 20s and 30s will most likely affect California’s citrus crop this year. If you’re at the market, stock up and enjoy now. My produce contacts tell me it might slim pickings from here on out.
9. A few have asked about this "super secret" project I’ve alluded to in the past few posts. While I’m sworn to a big fat non-disclosure form, I can tell you it involves technology. And no, I’m not going to be recreating Orville for another commercial.
10. Victoria Beckham is wearing me out! Between home hunting in Bel Air, daily visits to Sprinkles and Pinks (don’t listen to what you’ve heard–the bitch can eat!) and every little shop in town for gifts for the kids, I can’t stand it any more. Posh, I have a life. Please quit calling me. Straight to voicemail, girl. I mean it.