futile efforts

hi again. this would be peter, of course. my mom quit. strange, isn't it, how five minutes ago i was sitting in this same place, complaining to the world about how i never wanted to blog, but my mom bribed me into it, and now here i am again, drawn by the irresistible pull of another dollar to my name. anyway, i was thinking about how my mom tries to sell us on the idea that designing toddlers clothes was "cool." you should hear her at dinner. "so, who wants to see my new dress design?" (utter silence) "hey, i think i'll show you my new dress design." (groans) "hey, guys..." and so on. what this goes to show, i can't figure out, so i'll think about it and write again later...

maybe sometime in the next century, if you're lucky. - P.W.

taking over

hi. peter wilson here. recently, my mom told me that she was too lazy to run a blog, and i could take over if i wanted. so, i'll give it a try. now, of course she wants me to write something real deep about the trauma of being the kid of a fashion designer. yeah, right. half the time, i barely know what's going on in that mysterious "sewing room" of hers. anyway, i decided to take the job, though without the generous offer of a buck per blog, it probably wouldn't have happened. scratch that. it definitely wouldn't have happened. but, here i am, so i might as well resign myself to the inevitable.