I am trying to escape the black hole of Sunday blogging. It’s only a novelty once a month. Though that makes me think of Tampax adverts.
Oh, God. Did I actually just compare my blog to a tampon company?
Tell you what though, Geeks’ Night Out has seventy-nine views at last check, about ten minutes ago. I presume seventy of them are family members clicking the link I mass-emailed with the specification they forward it to anyone who likes the Macarena. Or hates it and wants to watch two twelve-year-olds dance to it, even though it is clear neither of them know it.
Da da-da da da-da da da-da da-da, da da-da da da-da da da-da da-da…
So, friends, this Saturday is very special. I will be wearing heels. High heels. Four-inch high heels. And a dress. With a netty bit at the bottom. And straps that aren’t straps. Yes. I will not be dressing like a man, a homeless person, Gerard Way, his wife, or a drug addict. This is new, exciting and VERY SCARY BECAUSE I CAN ONLY WEAR THE SHOES FOR FORTY MINUTES AND I HAVEN’T LEFT MY ROOM IN THEM YET.
You paying attention, Ellen? This is for you. Your birthday. Even though I shouldn’t have to get you anything because I am the reason for your existence. At least, my four-day old fluffy-haired self complete with tubes sticking out random places is. She made your parents all “Children, woot!” SO BE GLAD. That better be one frigging special barbeque, I’m telling you.
Be glad, Ellen. Remember me in your prayers.
Now reread that sentence in an ominous voice.