Firstly, a note on comments. I love love love your comments and you can all attest to the fact that I NEVER allow a one to go unanswered. I’m sorry about this week. This is a very isolated incident having to do with difficulty maintaing a wifi connection long enough to reply. I promise that will not continue, and I read and hold dear all of your words.
Have I mentioned my body is rejecting Europe time? Like, middle fingers up rejection. Apparently I’m supposed to be asleep now, yet my every physically present function says “bitch please”. Oh Monsieur Sandman, bring me a dream, bong, bong, bong, bong…
Ok so let me begin by saying that I’m posting for the first time on my phone. I’m ordinarily entirely too high maintenance a blogger for that sort of poppycock. I mean, there are photos and resizes and links and re-reads and – ok I’m stopping.
Point to this here opening oratory is that this post shan’t have pictures. Or links. I know. I’m twitching. This should not even be allowed and I’m sorry (follow along on Instagram, see this should be a link, dagnabit!). But here’s what. The wifi here is medieval. Add to that, on Sunday my blog just went toes to the sky. Not that I panicked or anything (SOPANICKED). We swiftly informed my very not-cheap hosting company that we were at the airport and my blog could simply NOT go down. Like, ever. They return emailed saying they’d reset it for now, however, I was at 94% of my photo limit.
Say what again now?
This is a blog. A photo heavy blog. With pictures that I begrudgingly resize to a piddly 570 pixels across before posting (which will change as I’ve got a dizzyingly exciting announcement regarding a dream collaboration on a new blog design, coming soon). I pay on the monthly 3 times what every other person I know with a website pays for hosting. So let me have that one more time, in my good ear.
My PHOTO LIMIT?
Ugh. Any of you website/blog owners ever encounter this problem?
So, now I’m in Europe. And I’m afraid. I’m afraid if I post one more photo that the whole blog will go kerplooey again.
That means… No pictures until next week. I know, I know. The sorrow is palpable. I’ve got pictureful posts at the ready! Detailed recantings of all of the Parisian whos and whats! And I can’t post a one!
Damn you, hosting company! A pox on your household!
For now, I leave you this, a crunchy little nibble so delightful, it may just hold up without a photo.
When you are seated at dinner near the foot of the Eiffel Tower, and one at the table of British teachers to your left is discussing giving out every last rubber she’s got to her students and laments having none left for herself, be not alarmed, for you would do well to remember, in the United Kingdom, a “rubbah” is an eraser.
(I was 100% alarmed)