and I'm back. . .

Alrighty folks. after a long break due to absolute madness, I am back to reporting. And boy do I have some juicy stories...maybe some I shouldn't share.

Yeah, best hold on to some of those for now.

Doing this blog has brought to my attention just how often I actually shop, and it's been kind of shocking. So, I've resolved to cut it down this year. Just a little.

So, there was lots of shopping over Christmas. I had fun at Canal Place and shopping in the Quarter. However, I was unable to find (while on foot and without internet on phone) a bookstore in the Quarter. Such an anomoly. The old stand-bys of Virgin and Tower being seemingly closed forever, and no books for sale in Canal Place, I had to get more creative to secure a gift for my mother. She ended up with a cookbook that was more history than cooking--which is good because she doesn't cook and was a history major in college.

Lately, the sole object of my shopping extravagnaza has been to find an ivory silk charmeuse dress, strapless, notched top, and black across the bust. There is an ABS dress at Hemline that is pretty much it, but it's not this season and Hemline is offering it at full price. I could be tempted to just go ahead and pay twice what it's worth now, but they only had it in a 6. Oh, well.

All attempts to find it online have failed.

Speaking of online, I found a close substitute, however the rest of that story must get cleared with my attorney before I disclose the details. (o, the intrigue)

And on a slightly related note, I just picked up my car from the body shop yesterday, and I was sooooo happy to have the hotness back until I took a close look at the work done.

O my f'ing god! All they had to do was put on a new mirror and front panel, but apparently they also had to get all up inside the car and get their grubby mitts all over everything. Grease on the shifter, the knob was crooked, some kind of crap on the stereo dial, they had changed my radio station, turned it way up and changed the bass level. HOW DARE THEY! That's my car, with my settings, my personal space. DON'T TOUCH MY THINGS. O, and I forgot the best part. The mirror they put on was on crooked, and they managed to scratch the center console big time on both sides. I hate them, and if anybody's looking to get body work done don't use a particular shop on Vets right by the airport. It's my opinion and I can say what I want.

In thier defense, after I had to persuade the manager to even look at the damage--she didn't want to because it was too dark outside (as if cars don't have lights on the inside!)--she decided to have some interior paint people fix it on Thursday. We'll see, and I really don't trust them. It would almost be worth it to just never deal with them again.