This postcard came in the mail a few days ago:
I can just picture myself hanging out on that balcony at night…sipping a mint julep (why not?), being eaten by mosquitoes, and missing the balconies in the Quarter, probably.
Mail Call
All I want for Christmas is….blue? Oh, yes. The most gorgeous blue.
Tis the season…for Christmas and my birthday.
I think I’m going to have to splurge and get this entire set. I want the corset, the skirt and garter combo (!!!!), the stockings, the bra…wow. Just…yeah. Wow.
Is it wrong that I’m turned on just THINKING about wearing this? Ummmmm…
I’m not even exaggerating, yall. Wow.
Short Stories (Fiction) in The New Yorker
I’m not the biggest fan of the gym, so I make it more enjoyable by bringing along an issue of The New Yorker (one of my lovely clients bought me a subscription!) so that I can read the short fiction while I work out. It works pretty well.
So I found a cool blog: New Yorker Story Critiques
And now, when I finish a story, I get out my phone and look at the blog to see what they thought. So I guess this blog is indirectly contributing to my overall health, seeing as I end up staying on the elliptical for a few extra minutes, lol.