The Post in Which I Still Manage to Say Nothing

Well hello, there! Don't you just love when I disappear for a week or two? Such absences typically indicate that (a) there's nothing exciting going on, (b) I'm too busy to write or (c) some combination thereof.

This time around, my absence can be blamed on two things. Firstly is the rather pedestrian excuse that work is kicking my ass. This leads to scenario (c) above, wherein there's nothing exciting happening and in the event that something noteworthy does occur, I'm far to busy/exhausted to tell you about it.

Exhibit A: Last Friday I got up at 4 AM to edit a memo. At 6:22 when I hit "send" on the associated e-mail, I thought to myself, "Perfect! Just enough time for me to shower and blow dry my hair before my 7 AM conference call." 7 AM call on a Friday -- these people secretly hate me. Or maybe not so secretly. A good day lately is one that doesn't start at 4 AM. A really good day is 8-6, without stopping for lunch.

Exhibit B: Lori left me a message last week stating, among other things, "I hope you're out on a date right now, or doing something else blog-worthy!" Sadly, no, I was working. But see how smart Lori is? Rather than equating being out on a date as doing something "fun and exciting," she instantly equated it with being blog-worthy. Much more apt.

Secondly, and this is one that I certainly could not have foreseen, Blogger suspects that this blog is a spam blog and has essentially locked me out of my account. Now, based on their definition, I understand how the confusion could occur ("spam blogs...can be recognized by their irrelevant, repetitive, or nonsensical text"), but really, people? Because I have nothing better to do with my time than create irrelevant text and spew it forth onto the worldwide web? Please. I have important drivel to spew forth, uninvited and repeatedly, on highly relevant topics like women's footwear, why TSA is the bane of my existence, and how I'd rather brand myself with a hot iron bearing the University of Michigan logo than date 99.999994% of the men I meet.

So, until I can convince the good people at Blogger that I am not a computer/robot/extra-terrestrial being, there can be no posting. Much to Lori's dismay, I have to admit that I'm not actually a fembot. I know! I'm bummed, too, as I suspect that the ability to fire high-powered artillery from my cleavage would be rather effective in convincing my colleagues not to schedule 7 AM conference calls.

The good news is that I managed to leave work at work for the entire weekend and instead spent two days skiing on some of the best snow all year. And, for the first time all season, I actually felt like I knew what I was doing. Woo! If I'm not careful, Northern California is going to suck me into its evil vortex of good weather (74 degrees today) and accessible mountains (2 hours or less) and comfortable standard of living (don't even ask)...if only I could do something about the time zone.