Those measly lines were all I needed to convey my general attitude about life:
Carolyn Wallach is bribing the kids to get what she wants. Parenting 101.
Carolyn Wallach is The Road. Wow.
Carolyn Wallach thinks her toxic assets might be shovel-ready.
Now, you see, I thought that last one was brilliant - a witty commentary on the overuse of certain phrases in the media. Bleh. No one had anything to say. No one wanted to comment on my toxic assets or even seemed to know what "shovel-ready" meant.
And so, slowly but surely, as my facebook friends failed to give me the stroking necessary to keep this delicate ego aloft, I have started to feel that I need more than short third-person status reports to keep me sane. I can't sort out or unravel what's in my head in one sentence.
There's so much I want to write. Spring is here and, in classic Carolyn fashion, I'm dropping balls left and right.
I'd like to tell you about it - about the social engagements and niceties that I've totally fucked up, but my glass, the same one that brought me back to this blog, is empty.
Damn you, red wine. And thank you.
