Taking Self-Indulgence to a Whole New Level

Yes, yes, it's been a while. Can I consider that point addressed now? Awesome, thanks.
So, I've pretty single-handedly proven my theory (OK not so much a theory as just something I say which is already kind of obvious) that blogs are the ultimate form of self-indulgence. How? you ask. Well, as most of you know, I'm doing pretty much nothing right now. My life has been reduced to planning my wedding and begging Barrie to come home and eat French fries with me. (At least I've stopped forcing her to watch Veronica Mars on DVD, although I still think she, and the rest of you, are missing out.) As such, my life is mostly about two things - weddings, and Veronica Mars.
I will not address the latter because I feel rather pathetic about it, but oh, the former...I mean, I'm not alone - pretend if you like, but you've alllll done the wedding talk. Anyway, I more than most have endless amounts to say on the subject, mostly because I'm neurotic and love anything that involves a tremendous amount of listmaking. Also, I like obsessing. (See: My cosmetic bags; My Sweet Valley collection; my stack of photo albums, etc.)
But now, instead of boring everyone who never wants to listen to me talk about this asinine crap (which I've tried really hard not to waste lots of blogs on), I can totally indulge myself and babble on about it for hours with nobody listening. How? you ask, again. Oh, I made myself a totally other blog in which I talk about nothing but wedding advice an etiquette.
How stupid! you say. And you are right! But it doesn't matter, because you don't have to read it! No one does! But I can spew all the advice no one ever wants non stop without fear of people hating me because I've become the most boring, wedding-obsessed person on the planet. I can get it out of my system without making anyone contemplate following in Van Gogh's footsteps. This is fabulous, I think. Utterly, utterly fabulous.

Of course, now I just made everyone read about how you don't have to read about my blog. Ha. It's funny how that works. I feel I must make up for it by providing some insight into something, or some sort of deep thought. Unfortunately, I have none. I am really really boring. Also, I'm dreading the Three Weeks. Now that I'm doing nothing, that seems like a really long time to not be able to buy new clothes or go to a movie. The hope is that my niecephew (3 weeks till you'll all know which!) will be born early and entertain me with its nonstop crying over nothing and tiny little feet. I've already purchased a onesie, tiny little socks, and a reversible rattle for the little rugrat, but oh I want more. I love baby presents. They're totally fun.
Also, my dad is awesome. (And it's his birthday! Or at least it was, until 45 minutes ago. Now, happy birthday Tani!) He built a beautiful crib, changing table, and cradle for the future niecephew and its...whatever the opposite of predecessors is. How do you say things that come after? Man, this is gonna bug me. I should really post pictures of them online, but I'm a little lazy. Maybe I'll do it when it has sheets on. Or maybe not, since my parents sort of ignored the "gender-neutral" theme Tamar and Jonathan had planned and bought stuff in "gender-glaringly-obvious" instead.

I wish summer TV didn't suck so bad. The only bright spots are new episodes of Big Love and Entourage, but Big Love has a tendency to be mind-numbingly slow, and Entourage to be mind-numbingly stupid. They're running Veronica Mars reruns of season 3 which I actually haven't seen, and while I like them because I like the actors and think it's well-written, etc., I do see how fans of the earlier seasons find season 3 awful in comparison. Now that I've watched seasons 1 and 2, I kind of agree. Which is funny, because I only got into the show in the first place from watching season 3. Just goes to show how good the first two seasons are...
Also, Degrassi is coming back, and I can't believe I'm not more excited but I just don't really care. I know that if Yoni ever reads this, he will gloat so loudly they'll hear it in Guam, but I can't help it. Oh well, maybe I'll feel differently when it actually returns.
I really wish I was reading. I don't know what happened to that. I read like half of The Year of Magical Thinking by Joan Didion but I just wasn't into it, and I started Snow by Orhan Pamuk (thank you obsession with Istanbul) but I don't care much about that either. I never even finished Absurdistan by Gary Shteyngardt - just picked it up and put it down, picked it up and put it down...and that was kind of it. I'm waiting for A Thousand Splendid Suns to come out in paperback, but somehow, I can't seem to bring myself to read anything else until then. Why?? Someone recommend something that will make me want to read again, please! Melissa de la Cruz, Robert Parker, and James Patterson are making my IQ go down, and shockingly, reading new books from Robin Wasserman's Seven Deadly Sins series isn't helping, but Sloth is the only new book I've bought this summer!

I really, really need college.