Reblogging Julia

It isn't always about you, Daddy.

The shortened week finds our Lady of Introspection in an especially manic state, and clearly, the days of her wanting to go Thoreau are long behind her.  Few people are as ill-equipped to be alone as Our Lady anyway [Ed. Note: good decision not to room with Leven, as the tartly teen would have probably actually developed autism, but not before nailing your ex], and in the lonely 4am hour, nothing fills the hole of abject vapid emptiness like posting to one’s legions of friends on the internets. 

Onward to the recap!

• The sleepless Sunday night, during which she wrote a groundbreaking essay deconstructing rap lyrics, naturally led to thoughts of bridesmaid dresses.  She clearly doesn’t want to get married for years.
• The noon hour brought a crap email from a dude, and JA was kind enough to post his full name.  It is unclear whether it was #6 (‘6. Not being well-rounded. Most women’s lives involve: gossipping, shopping, talking and worrying about their looks. Where are the really “deep” women?!!’) or the familiar style of overpunctuation that provoked her ire.
• Six hours later, she had a self-described “aha” moment.  Lindsay Lohan’s problems arise from her unoriginal style.  Star Magazine readers will be enriched by this observation.
• As the witching hours approached, Our Lady dug deep into the 2004 archives for happier times, posting four pictures of her college graduation, mentioning she was engaged for most of that year.  Clearly, she doesn’t want to get married anytime soon. 
• Obligatory pursed picture pose.   So unoriginal - beware the Lohan curse.  [Ed. Note  Meghan remains the hot one in Our Lady’s world.]
• A moment of agesim strikes Our Lady, as she lamented the sorry state of senior citizen blogging.  She has since deleted it, of course, but I couldn’t help but wonder:  Wouldn’t you think a fabulous, nearly 30 something would have something better to do with her time than blogging?  Especially when her musings are particularly casual, vapid and grammatically incorrect?
• When the witching hour arrives, Our Lady of Introspection becomes Our Lady of Desperation.  A lack of Valentine’s Day attention has apparently prompted her to post a wish list for her devoted readers. [Ed. Note:  Christ, way too much to parse here.]  She wants a pink tampon case and a karma necklace (“By the transitive properly, I am obviously obsessed with this necklace.”), and she is still pissed that the most recent guy who dumped her didn’t buy her a Mac Air.  Aren’t promises sacred??!?!?!
• After a good night’s sleep, Our Lady apparently awoke to a less than adoring inbox, and solicited reader advice on where to entertain her parents in her adopted city.   If only Our Lady had actual friends in Manhattan who were familiar with area attractions and hotspots, or access to a publication that featured such things.
• Nothing quite honors your father at his college reunion weekend like a glorified personal ad for a booty call.   How proud he must be, and how dare he think the weekend was just about him.  [Ed. Note:  I tend to agree with your father when he said by the transitive property, you’re irritating. Properly, even.]
• If, by bad ass, you mean you will continue to post passive aggressive barbs on the internet, I can believe it.
• Nothing quite says “don’t crash my party and give me an excuse to post pictures of all those turned away” like posting the date, time, and location of your uber exclusive party on the internets.  It is like you aren’t even trying anymore, JA. 
• You know what?  I can’t see you two as friends..  I wonder why that is?
• Absolutely no one is laboring under the impression that you are having great sex or that you have any idea how to enjoy it.