Tray Shopping in the South of France?

Photo Credit: how the Hell do I know, I'd knocked back a bottle of Pinot Grigio by the time I found this


Dear Diary,

July 8, 2010, 8:00 am

Tossed and turned all night, unable to sleep. No, it wasn't the vajazzling (though that is the last time I take beauty advice from a magazine with that white trash Brittney on the cover, and if there is a next time, I definitely won't use hot glue).

No, I'm trying to decide on vacation plans. God, I hate summer--that Angel baby brat is home all of the fucking time (except those brief 8 hours of peaceful bliss a day when he's at art camp--that reminds, me I need to have another little chat with him about his palette--if he wants his stupid drawing to be allowed on the fridge, especially in blog photos, I need tasteful neutrals, dammit--i've told him over and over again, "Mommy likes robin's egg blue, beige, a nice dark, but not too dark, taupe and a slight hint of pink----cultivating a taste for pink is so useful for doing the occasional "j'adore pink" post---if the brat insists on using primary colors, his stuff is hanging on the fridge in the garage--at least until I revamp that for a "Doesn't My SUV Deserve a Pretty Room, Too?" post) and because of this fucking humidity I have to stop and flat iron my hair before every "candid" outdoor living photo---that reminds me, I need to send a check to my photographer. If that stupid Boobear would just let me order the new Nikon I want-sure it's $600 dollars, but what's that really? a pair of toss pillows--I could take my own photos and stop using the Olan Mills moonlighter.

My real problem---where do we go for a vacay? Unfortunately, I need to take Boobear and Angel Baby--god, I remember the good ole days of single gal blogging when all I had to do was sucker the boyfriend du jour into taking my photo in hideously expensive clothing---note, need to change number to unlisted, so that fucking VISA will stop calling...and not have to worry about co-ordinating the outfits of three people and their surroundings---God, Anna Wintour, no one else knows how we suffer.

Back to the vacation plans? I need somewhere expensive enough to impress, but not so expensive that it alienates the "little people" readers, scenic, but neutral enough to go with my existing wardrobe--that asshat boobear says that I already have enough summer tunics and caftan coverups_---and I really need to go somewhere I can do some major tray shopping. I've run out of trays to artfully arrange with random clutter, and I'd like to get a start on the garage post---(wouldn't it be clever to arrange python trays with wrenches? or would wrenches do better with lucite?)--the south of France, maybe---I hear the French have great trays..