The lengths for an Oxford Husband

It’s official, my neighbors across the street must think I am a nut job, with today confirming their suspicions.

I am a terrible procrastinator, especially with household duties. It explains why my apt looks like part pig sty and part college dorm room. —I get all ready to clean and put away my extensive shoe collection that sits in a corner of my living room, then suddenly I get distracted. Someone calls, I decide to go on an impromptu walk, or I decide to dance in my underwear topless. And I know we all dance around our living rooms naked. This would be fine and I would be just like all of you, except since I am a procrastinator, I have not put up curtains in my living room for the last ten and a half months I’ve lived here. My neighbors see all of this. Including my naked body scampering across the living room, and my obsession with the mirror, checking myself out all the time.

As part of my no-drinking-for-thirty-days-but-am-making-an-allowance-for-when-Lu -comes-into-town-and-maybe-if-my-strip-class-goes-to-a-strip-club sober promise, I've also decided to get into shape. Hence, I'’ve resurrected the BBA from college, the Beautiful Body Adventure. My commitment to the BBA knows no bounds and despite the fact that it was raining today and I couldn't go for a run along the Hudson, I decided to exercise in my living room. Except, my version of exercise is my strip-ilates. While wearing my seven inch platform shoes and tank top that barely covers my breasts.

So I treated my neighbors to a view of me gyrating in the middle of my living room, doing my hip shakes and pelvic thrusts into the ground. My neighbors must think that I am a sex starved stripper.

Or an attention starved girl.

And other news, lately I have been so motherfuckingly exhausted. Drinking with imagined impunity for two weeks straight will fuck with every single thing in your body. I haven'’t been able to get to fall asleep and stay sleeping for the last three days. I've been anxious at work. It'’s like I developed a physical dependence to alcohol.

Or it could be that I've cut out the ciggs too.

One thing is for certain, my system is in shock from this detox.

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And a reflection from Shannon past.

After reading this blog for anything longer than one post, it's obvious that I am an attention whore. I love being in the spotlight. What you probabley did not know, is that it actually came from somewhere, besides my mother having all four of us close in age and vying for her attention. When I was younger, I did diaper commercials. I think it was for either Luvs or Huggies. Some huge brand. Anyway, I've always harbored a grudge over my father for taking me out of showbiz because, "A baby shouldn't be under all of those bright lights." If I would have stayed in commercials I would probably be more famous than Paris Hilton.

But my mother conceded. She forced me to take all of my star power and channel it into such lovely endeavors as my church's Christmas play, the role of chorus member # 956 in my middle school musical and a whole host of other child actor reject roles.

Well, reading www.dlisted.com I ran across this on Candace Cameron's (DJ from Full House) website:

During my teenage years, I had what one would consider a very good life. I was on a hit TV show, was making lots of money and had a loving and supportive family. I also had a lot of fans that admired and looked up to me and I was considered a good role model. I traveled all over the world meeting people, fans, and other celebrities. I couldn’t complain about anything! But, aside from my busy and exciting life, church had become more of an after thought. I’d go when I had time, or when I wasn’t too busy. It wasn’t my first priority anymore.


What the fuck?! I thought to myself. Child actor stardom was wasted on her. I at the very least would have had a coke problem to keep fans entertained!!!

It's just not fair.

So instead I run around my office singing and creating pantomime for my co-worker's entertainment.

Since I've given my notice, I really do have too much time on my hands.