The epiphany

In When Harry Met Sally, Sally explains that she broke up with her ex-boyfriend because he did not believe that there were no Sundays in her days of the week underwear.  She says that they don't make Sundays "because of God."  Sundays are a holy day in which you should do no work and whatever.  I guess that translates to underwear.  And to blogs.  This Sunday was the first time I have skipped a day since starting the thing.  And I picked the holy Sabbath to do it.  Uh, but as a Jew, my Sabbath is on Saturday and this rational makes zero sense.  But I needed some sort of excuse.

It has come to my attention recently that I have been labeling my different entries as if they were episodes of a TV show.  You know, with a twist on a movie title or song.  The original "pilot" was intentional, but after that, I guess my incessant tv watching just inspired me.  I don't really mind the whole TV format, but only if they don't become too predictable.  No one style.  This post is in the style of The O.C., always beginning with "The".  Next up, maybe a Friends, with a "the one where..."  But if I ever pull a Degrassi and start labelling each post after an 80s pop song (with the exception of the first season masterpiece, "Jagged Little Pill", hellooo 90s), please stop me.  I need the variation.  

Speaking of variation, I want to jump to a new topic.  I wish that I could write a novel. Like a really silly, fun one.  Cecily von Ziegesar isn't even good and she got a hit TV spinoff of her bestselling series.  I just finished Something Borrowed, written by Emily Giffin and encouraged by Liz Skale (from the carousel).  It was so cute and girlie that I think that I could totally do it.  Better right about being young when I still am.  Well, sort of young.  No more teenager.  Hello wrinkles and gray hair.  But yeah, I would be a fab chicklit author.  I have certainly read enough of it.  The best is Sophie Kinsella, in case you were wondering.  Hello new career.  I welcome you.