Okay, so this blog has just become the Official Blog of the Tracy Berna Website - that is to say, I’ve just changed the links from my main site so that they go here, instead of to my old blog. It’s still got a ways to go - I still plan to import the old entries from that blog to this one, and make some links pointing out a few entries that may interest. Plus I’ve got a feature or two in mind to add in the future. It’s finding its feet, little by little.

As for the main site, I’m currently working on updating a whole bunch of little things (and a couple of big ones) there. So for those of you who check by occasionally and despair that anything will ever be different (hi, Orchid! ::waves::), hope is on the horizon.

Okay, these guys rock, because they’re so damn INTO it. Click the pic to be serenaded.

And dude! Why doesn’t the guy behind them ever turn around??

Oh, hell, I’m just going to post all these big ass photos, I don’t care if it bumps my blog layout all out of whack. I may just have to fix that anyway. By the time you see this, it may not even be a problem.

This is my bed. And my cats. They’re the perfect decorating accent, aren’t they?

And here is the more demanding of my two cats, Gromit. He has evidently deigned to approve of his new Kitty Kube, even though it came from Big Lots.

These are my friend Kathy’s feet. She and I went out to eat at The Grove. I show you these feet because of the shoes. They show that, although Kathy is a mom, she’s a cool mom.

And since we were at The Grove, of course there were L.A. Hipper-Than-Thou-sters there. And of them, I managed to sneak in this photo.

Look, everybody, it’s Yukon Cornelius!

This is a store in my neighborhood.

A very useful store, obviously.

I’m currently working on updating a whole bunch of little things (and a couple of big ones) about this web site. This blog, for one thing, is going to be converted to a whole different thingamabob. (Hey, there’d be a blog title - “Thingamablog”. Sorry, this stuff has been occupying my brain lately…)) So for those of you who check by occasionally and despair that anything will ever be different (hi, Orchid! ::waves::), hope is on the horizon.

(And since I just spent a bit of time clearing away the inevitable filthy-titled comment spam from a couple of recent entries, all I can do is look at this entry and think of all the words I’ve used that’ll innocently act as glaring beacons in the spam-comment night to attract robots to send more. Le sigh.)

(Edit: I just Googled the term “thingamablog” and it turns out it’s actually a blogging software that claims to be incredibly easy and not to need half the crap that makes this one work. Hmm. Learn somethin’ new every day.)

I wish rampant oversleeping were an Olympic event. Then I could either win a gold medal, or else, knowing me and the rest of my life, the pressure to achieve would make me unable to keep doing it.

Bless me, Ngoc Anh, for I have sinned.
It has been over a month since my last mani/pedi.
I stand before you humbly, spotty and unwashed.
My cuticles are ragged
My heels dry and cracked
The polish on my toenails has been allowed to remain
Until the surfaces underneath are yellow-blotched from lack of oxygen.
Yes, I did try, by myself, to trim the cuticle on my left big toe.
It wasn’t bleeding last night, I swear.
I’d tell you so, but realize that my language is insufficient.
I see the righteous anger as you dab with the elixir
And hope you will forgive an ordinary mortal
An honest mistake.
I admit that I have sinned
Against you, myself, and most importantly, L.A.
I pray thee, my Goddess, use your power to silence my shame
As it echoes around the room between you and the others
In sing-song hen’s chatter.
Grant me the blessing of your Nagel prints,
Your dusty fake flowers,
Your discount Tommy Jeans t-shirt.
I beseech, oh Goddess who’s named herself Marie but can’t pronounce it,
To get the fuck over it,
And wash me clean.

So, after several months off due to mild discouragement, moderate panic and massive No Idea What I’m Doing-Itis, I’m turning some attention back to my online personals life — it seems to be the only way I get asked out anymore, and I’ve decided it’s not worth wondering what that says about me. I’m just going to keep in mind that I do get asked out that way. I got contacted by a fairly cool English guy the other week. We went out once. He was kind of good looking sitting down, but oddly schlubby-looking when he stood up. And he lied about his height, or else my heels did more damage than I intended them to, because I felt towering. He, in my opinion, didn’t need a girlfriend because he was married to tennis. He also assaulted me with conversation about himself and Every Plan For The Future He Ever Had for the first hour of our time together, which made me lose interest. It got better and more relaxed later, but sadly I miscalculated how “over” my wretched, phlegmy cold I was, which undoubtedly slaughtered a good deal of interest for him. I consider it a draw.

(Jealous?? Why wouldn’t a person want to get involved in this activity, huh? HUH?? :-/)

Oh well. Thing is, it pays to change the headline on your ad fairly regularly - at least on The Onion Personals, the service I’m on. And now, I shall regale you with a whole bunch of very insightful thoughts about personals headlines. And GOD I’m fascinating. You’ll laugh, cry, learn, I mean it.
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