Wordy Rappinghood

No, I haven’t been engulfed by Okefenoke wildfires, or run off with the pool boy, or “followed” R.E.M. to Vancouver to take advantage of major stalking opportunities. I’ve just been swamped at work. About 70 percent of my job involves writing, and I’ve written nearly 8,000 corporate words since May 1. I just can’t muster up the energy to blog (or read blogs) when I’m home … which, in itself, is a rarity, as my dance card is filled these days.

I’ve written some great posts … in my head. Too bad y’all can’t peek beyond the wild black locks. Maybe I’ll get them down on keyboard and screen in the next week. Maybe.

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I get a kick out of Jane Fonda. Still damn sexy, and being nearly seventy hasn’t slowed down her flirty li’l self. (Have you seen either of her sizzlin' appearances on “The Colbert Report”? I'd crawl up in his lap, too, if given the opportunity.) Plus, Jane lives in Atlanta, so she gets two more points on the Cup Coolness Chart. (And isn't her haircut adorable?)

Jane hosted the world premiere of her new movie, “Georgia Rule,” in Atlanta last week to benefit her favorite charitable organization, the Georgia Campaign for Adolescent Pregnancy Prevention. During the benefit auction, she bid $100,000 for a weeklong trip to her “favorite ex” Ted’s Argentinean ranch. When she won the trip, she told Turner — and the rest of the crowd at Symphony Hall — “See what I’ll do to keep other people out of your bed?”

Jane’s my flirtin’ hero.

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Have you seen the commercial for some bag o’ nuts, the one that claims when you get that 3 p.m. crash, Robert Goulet comes in and messes with your stuff? Maybe my brain is drained from the recent word output, but I giggle every damn time I see the commercial. I’ve started using Goulet as my excuse at work.

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I believe a couple of you asked for five questions during my latest e-disappearance. Promise I’ll get them to you by Wednesday, if you’re still interested in an interview.

I was in Grant Miller’s dream. I feel special ... and a little dirty ... and I kind of like that feeling. For the sordid details, read the comments to the previous post.

Thanks to those who e-mailed and checked on me. You like me, you really like me!

And now I must sign off to read the backlog of your blogs …

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Enough Is Enough

I love Target. LOVE it. Loyal to the core. I don't step foot in the far inferior Walmart, but I cross a Target threshold at least once a week (there's a store by my office ... it opens an hour before I'm due at my desk ... you do the math).

If the title of this post left you singing that Streisand/Summer classic, you just got two points on the Cup Coolness Chart. I'm betting Dale and Brat scored.

I can discuss in detail the product lines of Isaac Mizrahi and Todd Oldham (don't you love him on Top Design?), Thomas O'Brien and Michael Graves (someone from his office hit this blog last week, which was a mega-thrill for me) ... and show you lovely samples of their work in every room of my home. I'm wearing Target-bought yoga pants and a cute Merona T-shirt while I type this on the keyboard I got at ... yup ... Target.

But now my beloved bull's-eye has gone too far. Have you seen the commercial that bastardizes The Beatles' "Hello Goodbye" into "Goodbuy"? Tacky. Inappropriate. Just plain wrong.

Not too far to keep me out, of course. The new Mizrahi spring line is due.

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