HER WEAPON OF CHOICE...

I'M MOVING!!!

Fri, 09 Jan 2009 20:38:15 -0800

Okay, I’m not moving so much as my blog is moving. Yes, it’s true. I’ve recently launched my own web site. Please change your bookmarks accordingly.

http://www.leslie-simon.com

THE BIG STORY: THE ALL-AMERICAN REJECTS

Wed, 10 Dec 2008 17:55:00 -0800

The piece is live! Finally. Hoof it over and be sure to leave a comment.

Must. Sleep. Now.

Photo

Wed, 10 Dec 2008 17:53:00 -0800

I MISS...

Fri, 05 Dec 2008 23:12:00 -0800

HAPPINESS IS...

Fri, 05 Dec 2008 00:14:18 -0800

Seeing this long and winding road is almost over. Hopefully, this time I can enjoy a couple minutes of the ride.

Photo

Fri, 05 Dec 2008 00:12:46 -0800

SELF-EXPLANATORY

Tue, 19 Aug 2008 19:24:00 -0700

Watch out, Brian Atwood. I’m coming to get cha!!!

Perhaps the most brilliant—and appropriate—thing I’ve ever...

Tue, 19 Aug 2008 19:23:46 -0700

Perhaps the most brilliant—and appropriate—thing I’ve ever heard.

EDITING MY WORDS

Wed, 13 Aug 2008 08:32:39 -0700

I’m a horrible blogger. I’m sorry. Okay, maybe I’m not horrible at blogging—I’m horrible at keeping the blogs timely. The last week has been a whirlwind of time zones, red eyes and Microsoft Word. I’m almost mid-way through National Editing Month* and I feel like I’ve just run a marathon, despite the fact that I actually haven’t worked out in over a week. Ugh. Just another thing to add to the To-Do list.

I’ve had an awful time sleeping for the last couple months and one of my talk ladies suggested that I start waking up at the same time every day and cut out my beloved naps from my daily sched. First of all, “talk lady” is a fancy word for therapist. My mom made it up and I think it’s pretty appropriate. Secondly, yes, I have two talk ladies. My head needs to be shrunk that much. Third, this no nap thing is driving me batty! I’ve been waking up between 6 AM and 8 AM the past couple days and it feels so unnatural. I can only imagine what it’s going to be like when I rejoin the land of the living and meet up with the rest of the Average Joe workforce. I wonder if it’s poor form to keep a cot in my next office?

After I wake up with the dawn, I go to Caribou Coffee and rape them for their free Internet. It’s kind of awesome. I’ve been super-duper productive the past three days and if I keep up this kind of momentum, I think I can actually make my editing deadline at the end of the month (not like I have a choice or anything). Plus, it smells really yummy in here and they have these things called French Toast muffins that have completely been flirting with me. So far, I’ve been able to turn down their advances, but I’m not made of stone, people. I have a feeling that it won’t be long before we live a nice, long, delicious life together.

GGRGRGRGLGEGLGLRGGLLL

That was my stomach. It’s almost feed-time. I wish I could get all my daily nutrients from Diet Coke. Then I wouldn’t ever need to worry about satisfying the beast—and by “beast,” I mean “my stomach.”

* I made this holiday up. It doesn’t exist but it totally should. Who can I talk to about that? I smell a letter-writing campaign.

IN AN IDEAL WORLD, THIS WOULDN'T BE ILLEGAL.

Mon, 04 Aug 2008 19:34:00 -0700

IN AN IDEAL WORLD, THIS WOULDN'T BE ILLEGAL.

MEMORY LANE

Sat, 02 Aug 2008 17:41:27 -0700

Do you think it’s possible to miss someone you’ve never met?

I do.

THERE IS A LIGHT THAT NEVER GOES OUT...

Tue, 29 Jul 2008 14:59:28 -0700

And it’s at the end of the tunnel. I think I see it! I think I see it!

INSPIRATION IN THE MOST UNLIKELY OF PLACES

Tue, 22 Jul 2008 10:39:58 -0700

Audio

Tue, 22 Jul 2008 10:33:25 -0700

"None of those cool rock boys, those skinny, pale-skinned beauties you see slouching down on the..."

Mon, 14 Jul 2008 23:11:00 -0700

“

None of those cool rock boys, those skinny, pale-skinned beauties you see slouching down on the street in their jeans and sunglasses and post-coital mussed and matted hair, are as cool as they seem to the untrained eye to be. But, of course, they won’t admit it.

But I have seen the truth. They’re not cool. I’m not cool. None of us ever was. We are all secretly freaking out.

”

- Juliana Hatfield

PICTURE THIS

Fri, 11 Jul 2008 20:44:00 -0700

The more a person’s relationship status changes, the more things stay the same.

DO I DOO RAG?

Thu, 10 Jul 2008 18:25:33 -0700

My hair is getting long and I can’t get my butt in gear to make an appointment for a cut. That said, I’ve been forced to wear a bandana to keep my sloppy-looking bangs and mop out of my face while I’m working and stuff. Okay, maybe it’s not a bandana, exactly. It’s more like a doo rag. There, I said it. It’s a bloody doo rag. Are you happy now? Geez…

So, okay, on the days when I don’t leave the apartment (which is, like, every day), I don’t change out of my pajamas (it’s one less thing to change into at the end of the night). If I manage to slap on a bra, it’s a big accomplishment. Needless to say, I look like the utterly tragic “befores” on What Not To Wear. It not that it bothers me. I actually kind of bask in it—except for the fact that my mail box is in the lobby of my apartment building and I like mail. Really like mail. I hardly ever get anything good but the temptation of what stands behind that tiny steel door never goes away. Thus, I am faced with the following dilemma on a daily basis:

“Do I leave my apartment as-is just to get my mail and risk scaring small children and the elderly, or do I tidy myself up to look mildly presentable and waste a perfectly good swab of lip gloss?”

Ah, the eternal question. Man, life is hard.

DON'T STOP

Tue, 08 Jul 2008 12:21:28 -0700

Here’s my latest British invasion. Enjoy!

Photo

Tue, 08 Jul 2008 12:21:00 -0700

F'REALS?

Mon, 07 Jul 2008 19:42:57 -0700

I hate myself for saying this but I can’t help but find this dude the teeniest, weeniest bit attractive. I think it’s my inner sorority sister talking. You know, the one who craves Sparks, insists on watching Titanic on a biannual basis, and goes out in public wearing sweatpants with the letters J-U-I-C-Y on my butt.

What can I say? Douchebags who have gross-me-out foursomes are the new black.