I still like the title's vertical cursive font

I've been anticipating Issue No. 2 of Martha Stewart's new magazine, Blueprint, since I tore through Issue No. 1 many moons ago. Today was my lucky day, I learned, as husband called me this afternoon to deliver the good news that, yes, indeed, Martha's new gospel was here.

Then I arrived home and got a good look at the cover.

Standing next to a wall that's been painted a saturated, marine shade of blue is a thirtysomething woman, looking over her shoulder and smiling. Her hair is pulled back in a neat pony tail, not unlike Charlotte York-Goldenblatt. She is wearing an impossibly stylish outfit on her impossibly skinny frame: some sort of yellow puffy-sleeved blouse and a scallop-hem skirt that looks like it's made from gray suede. Her earrings could be pearl; they could be silver. They are understated and perfect. Her teeth, gleaming. Her eyebrows, attractively arched.

To her right is an obedient Jack Russell Terrier, standing happily on a wooden bench. Hung on the wall just to the right of the model's head is a round mirror with a thick, dark wood frame.

Reflected distantly in the small mirror is the woman's perfect life. A handsome man is seated on a tailored sofa. He is more presentable than most husbands and, as such, appears a little gay-looking. On his lap, a cute little smiling child. Another Jack Russell reclines calmly under the sofa. The table behind the sofa holds several books displayed horizontally and topped with some sort of anvil-shaped bowl. I'm certain the books' topics are worldy and sophisticated. Next to this intellectual still-life is a small vase from which protrudes a few artfully placed branches in an austere arrangement. I'm sure the rug underneath it all is sisal. And I'm sure the apartment is meant to be in Manhattan.

Notice I said that this vignette of a perfect life is reflected "distantly." It is not the focus. The focus is on her, and how happy all those things over there make her. How they inspire her to train her dog and sew her suede skirt and lose all her baby weight and whiten her teeth and singlehandedly revive the puffy shirt and choose perfect paint colors.

Then you reach page 6. Where Blueprint's new editor-in-chief, Sarah Humphreys, tells you all about her new apartment. It is less than 300 square feet, and she has not yet unpacked her belongings. She's photographed sitting in a slouchy white chair with some books, boxes and newspapers strewn about. No (gay) husband and cooing tot for her; no Jack Russell, let alone two. You can't possibly actually have all that, even if you are the EIC of a Martha Stewart Living Omnimedia publication.

This cover, with its round mirror and its flawless imagery, is a porthole to a better life, one you can't have even if you're the freaking editor-in-chief of Blueprint. What chance do the rest of us have?

Desire to blog remains strong despite recent shift in priorities

So it's been awhile since I've posted on this here blog, and I hear that my reader (singular) has grown tired of clicking on his Sympathetic Weather bookmark only to see the same ol' languishing page. I've been rather mercurial over the past month(s), what with a family emergency that has yet to sink in (bad) and the purchase of and move into our first home (good). February and March were at once tragic and exhilarating, despairing and hopeful. It's hard to blog at such times, let alone care about The Bachelor: Paris and Best Week Ever and Obi-Wan Kenobi and all the other crap to which the 'Weather is dedicated.

But it all just goes on, and so must I. The dot-com don't stop for nobody. However, I don't really have anything to say at the moment:

1. I am five episodes behind on Lost and Desperate Housewives (thank God for TiVo).
2. I have not watched The Soup in ages.
3. I have no idea what Martha Stewart is making that I should be purchasing, beyond Blueprint (my trial issue -- yay! -- should be in the mail).
4. I have not purchased tickets to the INXS show in Cleveland in May, even though I was willing to drag husband to Detroit to see them in February.
5. I haven't watched Rachael Ray open a store-bought pound cake and call it a "recipe" since at least '05.

Instead, given my status as a new homeowner, I'm now focused on a completely different set of things:

1. Oak leaves do not decay in any sort of timely manner, and must be raked in spring if the prior owner failed to do so last fall.
2. 10%-off Lowe's coupons do not apply to Fisher & Paykel or John Deere products.
3. In many cases, lamp shades are more expensive than they should be -- worse even than king-size bed sheets.
4. Old English Scratch Filler is a miraculous product.
5. We have two water meters: one to measure indoor use, one for outdoor. Sewer usage is based on the indoor meter reading.
6. Even after I remove the dead battery, the smoke detectors in the house keep chirping. Just like what happened to Phoebe that one time on Friends.
7. Pedestal sinks are somewhat impractical.

I need to find a way to reconcile these varied interests and foci so that this blog remains fascinating and not weighed down by tedious tales of painting shutters or re-keying dead bolts. Perhaps there will soon be an episode of Lost where Hurley begs Sawyer for a bottle of Milsek from his stash, because Locke asked Hurley to polish the stainless steel appliances in the Swan Station. But Sawyer won't relinquish it unless Hurley promises to spackle, tape and otherwise prep his tent for a new paint job. (Sawyer wants to create interest by painting an accent wall in his tent, making a focal point that draws the eye when you enter the space.) Hurley obliges, and is inspired to reupholster his salvaged airplane seat with cotton matelasse that he found in Ethan Rom's craft room in Caduceus.

Someone please alert J.J. Abrams and HGTV. If you thought Bad Twin was a brilliant if manipulative marketing ploy, just wait until the island-themed home makeover spin-off.

Ah, it's good to be back.