zombies, terminators, sexy secretaries of your dreams

Currently in CT with Lady --she is writing a paper and I am fiddling around on the interwob. There are probably about 15 things I could be doing (unpacking. emailing you back. working on my novel).

Instead, I've been debating about whether or not to write a new entry for this blog, which is very new and therefore shiny and fun to update. The debate goes like this: "Sure, this is shiny and new and therefore fun to update, but if I update three times a day now, then it'll only be more sad when it's old and dull and I never update except to say, 'gee, sorry interwob for not updating more often.'" It's sort of like when you are dating someone new, and they seem so fancy and awesome you want to spend every second with them, but are afraid to seem too desperate for attention. You know?

Then I came across this:



For serious, I want to be the woman in the glasses on the left. And I don't mean that I want to wear that outfit, 'cause I'm fully aware it would look stupid on me, I mean I want to be that woman for a day. Or maybe a week. You know she must have a cool job--something really specific and random that involves Dossiers and Number Two Pencils. She lives in a Modest Flat. She has a cat named Grover Cleveland. She might in fact be a spy--or, judging from the completely inhuman and incomprehensible location of her right leg, perhaps a Terminator From the Future(s). She appears to have tied Annie Hall there up with a thin leather thong (wrapped around her waist and then tying her wrists?). Will Annie Hall survive? Are her glasses some sort of hi-tech device? Are those polka dots inside polka dots? And stripes inside stripes?

And speaking of Zombies who want to eat your soul:



What is even happening here? Although (no lie) I kind of like those shorts. And that headband. No go on the matching striped shirts of doom, though.



As for this one--I don't even know. Roving artists/vampires/furies? I mean, clearly the "2-hour sampler" is warning you that if you cross these ladies, then your soul will become their appetizer platter du jour. Maybe the smocks are for easy clean-up after Red skewers your eyeballs with her threatening pointer finger.

That's all the pattern snark I can muster for the moment. More soon--perhaps about Christmas and its glories. Hopefully all of it at least a bit more substantive.

Happy Holidays!