One of the things that The (now) Ex used to tell me was my “problem” was that everything had to be “the same” – meaning if I moved or we moved, that I would tend to place my belongings in much the same place that they had been in my previous residence. I’m not going to deny this is very much the truth, however, I’m not sure that I necessarily see a “problem” with this.
For instance, I had bought this lamp at one point, specifically for my desk, so that I could see when I was working on my computer at home. This lamp was, therefore, my, all together now: desk lamp. Meaning that, when I moved, I tended to put this lamp – where? That’s right, on my desk. Weird, right? I know – clearly this makes me certifiable.
Guess what? It’s coming time to move once again (I know, I know…when will it END??) and you know something? I probably WILL put things in much the same places they had been before. Why? So I can find them. Again – weird…right?
Yeah, I know this makes me, again, practically certifiable, but I like to stay sane by putting things where I can find them. So, if, then, for the rest of my life, I want to put my desk lamp on my desk, that’s what I’m going to do. If that makes me crazy, fine. If that bothers YOU…then don’t come over.
Don’t get me wrong – I LOVE redecorating. LOVE IT. If I had the money, my house would look totally kick-ass. It would also be floor to ceiling Ikea (what's great is that you can literally do that to - Ikea? Sells FLOORING!) Still, some of the basics are pretty much going to end up in the same place essentially no matter how many times you move or redecorate. It can’t be helped. End tables go by the couch, the couch goes in the living room, the TV stand goes under the TV, your home office supplies will go by your desk and your desk lamp? Will go on your desk. That’s how it works. At least in my insane world where the sky is blue and the grass is green and that’s just how it works.
Showing posts with label It's my world you just live in it. Show all posts
Showing posts with label It's my world you just live in it. Show all posts
Monday, November 2, 2009
Thursday, August 6, 2009
Something I'm sure every mother in the world already knows but since I'm not really a mom I have a learning curve
For a long time I’ve always said that I’ll have kids when I can grow them in a tube and pick ‘em up when they’re hot and toasty and ready to come home. That way – no pain and no pregnancy gain. Everyone wins. Mostly me. But that’s really who counts the most anyway.
I’ve also said that were I to date someone with kids (and…here I am…doing just that) that it would be totally cool since then I don’t have to do the work myself – well the work of actually spewing them from my own loins.
See – I’m fairly certain I would hold a massive grudge against them for ruining my already not-as-perfect-as-it-could-be-damn-you-mountain-dew-addiction body. I don’t need any help not going to the gym and drinking too much soda. Also? I worked retail for a number of years and I just know I’d totally be one of those moms in there sobbing by the jeans and dreaming of when they were a size 2 and now they are a size 8 and omg NEVER HAVE KIDS THEY WILL RUIN YOU, DO YOU HEAR ME??
Guess what? Even when the children are not exactly yours – you can still blame them for gaining weight or not having enough time to get to the gym. I, personally, would do both, because that’s what kids are for: to do the stuff you don’t want to do around the house and take the blame for everything else. Neat, huh?
Due to my totally awesome work schedules (oh yes, that’s plural), one of them ironically at the gym, it leaves me with about two to three days of the week that I can work out. Sure, this sounds like enough time, until you factor in having a child 2-3 days of the week, on the exact same days that I am either not working both jobs, or am not working late at the first one.
Really what this boils down to is not having time to make it to any of the group exercise classes that typically start at either 5:40pm on weekdays and 5:15pm on Fridays, and then Saturday and Sunday mornings. I can do self-directed exercise, I have for years. However, to see actual results,I need someone up on a raised platform that looks like Bootcamp Barbie, yelling at me to feel the burn. Otherwise, two bicep curls with a five pound weight and I'm throwing in the towel.
What this usually means is that if the Daughter wants to play Frisbee like a mental patient, which is pretty much just throwing it around the yard randomly and then running to go get it and doing it all over again, count me in! You want someone to run around the park with you like a monkey on hot sand? I’m your gal. Don’t mind me if it sounds like I’m counting to myself, I’m just adding up all the calories I’m potentially burning.
I’ve also said that were I to date someone with kids (and…here I am…doing just that) that it would be totally cool since then I don’t have to do the work myself – well the work of actually spewing them from my own loins.
See – I’m fairly certain I would hold a massive grudge against them for ruining my already not-as-perfect-as-it-could-be-damn-you-mountain-dew-addiction body. I don’t need any help not going to the gym and drinking too much soda. Also? I worked retail for a number of years and I just know I’d totally be one of those moms in there sobbing by the jeans and dreaming of when they were a size 2 and now they are a size 8 and omg NEVER HAVE KIDS THEY WILL RUIN YOU, DO YOU HEAR ME??
Guess what? Even when the children are not exactly yours – you can still blame them for gaining weight or not having enough time to get to the gym. I, personally, would do both, because that’s what kids are for: to do the stuff you don’t want to do around the house and take the blame for everything else. Neat, huh?
Due to my totally awesome work schedules (oh yes, that’s plural), one of them ironically at the gym, it leaves me with about two to three days of the week that I can work out. Sure, this sounds like enough time, until you factor in having a child 2-3 days of the week, on the exact same days that I am either not working both jobs, or am not working late at the first one.
Really what this boils down to is not having time to make it to any of the group exercise classes that typically start at either 5:40pm on weekdays and 5:15pm on Fridays, and then Saturday and Sunday mornings. I can do self-directed exercise, I have for years. However, to see actual results,I need someone up on a raised platform that looks like Bootcamp Barbie, yelling at me to feel the burn. Otherwise, two bicep curls with a five pound weight and I'm throwing in the towel.
What this usually means is that if the Daughter wants to play Frisbee like a mental patient, which is pretty much just throwing it around the yard randomly and then running to go get it and doing it all over again, count me in! You want someone to run around the park with you like a monkey on hot sand? I’m your gal. Don’t mind me if it sounds like I’m counting to myself, I’m just adding up all the calories I’m potentially burning.
Friday, July 31, 2009
Part 2 of ? Of My Own Personal Soap Opera
Yesterday I had just finally left my house - at that point as quickly as possible because who doesn't want to hurry up and get to the hospital? Well me but only because the vising hours seem very restrictive when you're on a tight schedule. However, when I was IN the hospital ....no, scratch that, even when I was in the the hospital I would have liked slightly longer vising hours.
ANYWAY....
I visited with Best Friend and her new addition Little C. I also helped her "escape" from the hospital so we could walk half a mile away so she could smoke. So yeah, I'm so awesome I helped my friend break all sorts of New Mommy rules. But you know...when that "new Mommy" has had two other children and they turned out just fine, you don't get to have a say in "what's best".
Then it was off to collect my Benjamin's from my mom for my plethora of medical bills, hit the grocery store and head home. Only, when I got home, I realized I didn't want to be there quite yet, mainly because the more I looked around the more stuff I found tucked away or just plain hidden. I think the last straw was finding the "I Love You" post-it from the Boyfriend that was stuck to my bedroom mirror now stuck to the shoe rack in the closet!
With my stress and rage levels shooting off the charts at this point, I decided that obviously the very best option was to grab a blanket, pillow, book and radio and sleep on the living floor of my now unfurnished apartment across town. Oh yes - I was that mad. You can pretty much bet things have taken a pretty sour turn when I no longer want to be in the same house as you - unless you want to die in your sleep. Then the situation is most likely on your side.
Of course, I figured I'd be missed right away but apparently that didn't occur until the next morning . But, eventually we worked it all out once it was explained that the Boyfriend needed to keep the "separate living" lie alive for when the Daughter's mom came into our home. That's all well and good, but then you need to tell me these things. There is no way I'd have any idea to ask a question on like that. NONE. Besides, there's a whole issue with asking the Boyfriend questions in the first place, so usually unless information is readily provided it's best to just wait and see how it plays out. This can go one of two ways - like the way it went, or worse. Rarely does it end happily with complete understanding and nobody storming out of house. That would be nice though.
Moving on....
I still had quite the list to accomplish even though I had mange to cross a whopping three whole things off. It was really more like 1 thing since every time I turned around I was adding to the list rather then subtracting from it making it more of a two steps forward, one step back scenario.
Luckily, the Boyfriend decided to step it up in project "You Better Help Megan Reduce her Stress Levels Before Mass Destruction Ensues" meaning he cleaned out my car and washed it, and then obsessed over the water that was still mysteriously dripping down the sides every once in awhile. It's always such an adventure when you wash your car, especially when you feel like you did a pretty good job drying it only to find out 2 hours later that apparently steal is more absorbent than you realized and water continues to course down the sides of your windows and doors leaving ugly water marks behind.
Miraculously, we also managed to fit in a bunch of other errands I needed to get taken care of AND attend a pool party at Job #2, where we stuffed ourselves with brats, potato salad, soda, and chips. Then I went home to pack and make myself a collection of mix CD's cleverly entitled "Road Trippin" 1-5 (if you're wondering, yes I AM a certified genius...why ever do you ask?)
Sunday started out with a flurry of activity getting myself and my car ready for the trip and culminated in a huge lunch before I settled in for my 10 hour drive to Tennessee. Most people hear that and are pretty sure they would loose their minds around hour 4 or 5, but you really have to try it sometime. The first time I drove to TN alone I was terrified. I was mostly scared of something happening, like being attacked, or robbed or getting in an accident and nobody knowing what happened. However, after I successfully navigated the first trip I knew that this time would be a lot better. Besides that - it's 10 hours of complete ALONE time.
You get to listen to whatever music in what, in whatever order you want as LOUD as you want. You stop when you want, eat what you want and drive how you want. You don't have to entertain, speak to, listen to, or care about anybody else. It's pretty zen really - and possibly the best 10 hours you can spend. As long as you put yourself in the right mind frame to start out and you just settle in, the time goes fairly quickly.
The trip was nice. I didn't get to see as much family as I would have liked, but that's mainly my own fault for not calling people ahead of time. Which isn't really my fault so much as I just don't like calling people so if I could have simply e-mailed them I'm sure we could have avoided a miscommunication in the first place.
By Thursday I had re-established my Southern accent and was ready to head home.
Part Three most likely on Monday
ANYWAY....
I visited with Best Friend and her new addition Little C. I also helped her "escape" from the hospital so we could walk half a mile away so she could smoke. So yeah, I'm so awesome I helped my friend break all sorts of New Mommy rules. But you know...when that "new Mommy" has had two other children and they turned out just fine, you don't get to have a say in "what's best".
Then it was off to collect my Benjamin's from my mom for my plethora of medical bills, hit the grocery store and head home. Only, when I got home, I realized I didn't want to be there quite yet, mainly because the more I looked around the more stuff I found tucked away or just plain hidden. I think the last straw was finding the "I Love You" post-it from the Boyfriend that was stuck to my bedroom mirror now stuck to the shoe rack in the closet!
With my stress and rage levels shooting off the charts at this point, I decided that obviously the very best option was to grab a blanket, pillow, book and radio and sleep on the living floor of my now unfurnished apartment across town. Oh yes - I was that mad. You can pretty much bet things have taken a pretty sour turn when I no longer want to be in the same house as you - unless you want to die in your sleep. Then the situation is most likely on your side.
Of course, I figured I'd be missed right away but apparently that didn't occur until the next morning . But, eventually we worked it all out once it was explained that the Boyfriend needed to keep the "separate living" lie alive for when the Daughter's mom came into our home. That's all well and good, but then you need to tell me these things. There is no way I'd have any idea to ask a question on like that. NONE. Besides, there's a whole issue with asking the Boyfriend questions in the first place, so usually unless information is readily provided it's best to just wait and see how it plays out. This can go one of two ways - like the way it went, or worse. Rarely does it end happily with complete understanding and nobody storming out of house. That would be nice though.
Moving on....
I still had quite the list to accomplish even though I had mange to cross a whopping three whole things off. It was really more like 1 thing since every time I turned around I was adding to the list rather then subtracting from it making it more of a two steps forward, one step back scenario.
Luckily, the Boyfriend decided to step it up in project "You Better Help Megan Reduce her Stress Levels Before Mass Destruction Ensues" meaning he cleaned out my car and washed it, and then obsessed over the water that was still mysteriously dripping down the sides every once in awhile. It's always such an adventure when you wash your car, especially when you feel like you did a pretty good job drying it only to find out 2 hours later that apparently steal is more absorbent than you realized and water continues to course down the sides of your windows and doors leaving ugly water marks behind.
Miraculously, we also managed to fit in a bunch of other errands I needed to get taken care of AND attend a pool party at Job #2, where we stuffed ourselves with brats, potato salad, soda, and chips. Then I went home to pack and make myself a collection of mix CD's cleverly entitled "Road Trippin" 1-5 (if you're wondering, yes I AM a certified genius...why ever do you ask?)
Sunday started out with a flurry of activity getting myself and my car ready for the trip and culminated in a huge lunch before I settled in for my 10 hour drive to Tennessee. Most people hear that and are pretty sure they would loose their minds around hour 4 or 5, but you really have to try it sometime. The first time I drove to TN alone I was terrified. I was mostly scared of something happening, like being attacked, or robbed or getting in an accident and nobody knowing what happened. However, after I successfully navigated the first trip I knew that this time would be a lot better. Besides that - it's 10 hours of complete ALONE time.
You get to listen to whatever music in what, in whatever order you want as LOUD as you want. You stop when you want, eat what you want and drive how you want. You don't have to entertain, speak to, listen to, or care about anybody else. It's pretty zen really - and possibly the best 10 hours you can spend. As long as you put yourself in the right mind frame to start out and you just settle in, the time goes fairly quickly.
The trip was nice. I didn't get to see as much family as I would have liked, but that's mainly my own fault for not calling people ahead of time. Which isn't really my fault so much as I just don't like calling people so if I could have simply e-mailed them I'm sure we could have avoided a miscommunication in the first place.
By Thursday I had re-established my Southern accent and was ready to head home.
Part Three most likely on Monday
Thursday, July 30, 2009
Part One of ? of the Last Two Weeks of My Soap Opera of a Life
Well hello there! So first we should address the issue of me being a horrible, filthy liar. Hey! Stop nodding your head over there! You don't even probably know why I'm calling myself a liar. Unless it's because, as you can probably see, there are STILL no pictures posted. What in the name of little baby jeebus tap dancing in the rain is wrong with me? How possibly hard can it be to post some damn pictures on a blog.
Normally probably not that hard, but with the two jobs, and all the pictures being on my home computer and no Internet access at job #2...well you see. PLUS there was the last two weeks of my life in there...which...well...let's take a look.
First of all probably shortly after I last posted waaaaaaaay back on July 10th, my completely insane mother calls me to tell me that my Great Uncle is on his deathbed and probably will not make it through the night. Obviously I'm immediately upset. I realize the "great" in front of "uncle" makes it seem like this is more of a distant relative, but I lived with my Great Aunt and Uncle for two years and they are simply amazing people.
So, I'm at work, upset, and having a panic attack about what the next move should be. I'm supposed to go to Tennessee to see my Dad on Sunday...do I go? Should I leave for the big D.C. to see my Great Uncle tonight? Where will I stay? Will my Dad understand? What about job #2?
By the time the Boyfriend comes to get me from work I'm a mess. Or, I supposed you could make that MORE of a mess. PLUS the Best Friend goes and decides that it was also a SUPER day to pop out her third kid. So in addition to figuring out the aforementioned paragraph there this to do:
* Must pick up prescription from Walmart before 10pm
* Must get money from mom and make deposit at bank before Sunday
* Pay bills
* Go see Best Friend and Little C in the hospital
* Figure out what in the Holy Hell is going on with my house - specifically where the hell is all my stuff?
Oh yeah - did I forget to mention that the Boyfriend forgot to mention to his daughter's mom that we live together?? Yep. So, since she was dropping of the Daughter and was apparently touring our home (which I didn't know - it turns out it was all MY FAULT for not asking the right questions? Whatever) so all my stuff had to be shoved out of way so he wouldn't look like a big fat liar. Which, in that case, he was.
You wanna know what the really best way to push me over the edge when I'm panicking and feeling really rushed and stressed out? MOVE ALL MY STUFF ALL OVER THE DAMN PLACE SO I CAN'T POSSIBLY FIND IT. Yeah - see how THAT goes.
Oh and did I mention that I had T-minus 2 weeks to make, and mail 30 wedding shower invites??
Breath
I had assume (obviously completely wrongly) that the Boyfriend had gone to get my prescriptions already that day, it was the one thing I asked that get done. NOPE. So he went to go do that and I decided before continuing to have a panic attack to call my family in D.C. and see what the deal was.
Turns out my Great Uncle was "fine" meaning he wasn't going to die during the night, was stable, and, in fact, the kids were planning a fish boil for his birthday the next Saturday.
Once the Boyfriend returned, I gave him the updated situation, and, right before I could make a more graceful and less noticeable exit from my own home, an entire barrage of people came in, with gift for his Daughter. Which, is normally totally ok, but I'm in the middle of having a breakdown, I still have a legal sized to-do list, and now, apparently, I'm going to have to try and entertain people? Right.
I end up completely overwhelmed by the unexpected company, annoyed that the Boyfriend is now completely ignoring me, and pissed because I still can't find any of my stuff. I'm waiting for the Boyfriend to acknowledge the fact that I need to leave - like 15 minutes ago, but since that time never comes, I stomp around trying to find my misplaced items, since some of those are things I need to bring to the hospital for Best Friend.
I grab the rest of my stuff and get to the car only to realize guess who left it on dead empty? Now I have to go back inside and get my debit card. That done, I finally manage to leave the house - finally!
This concludes part one - if you would like to hear the parts two through who knows, because this is apparently getting much longer than I anticipated, you may tune in all the subsequent days to read them!
Normally probably not that hard, but with the two jobs, and all the pictures being on my home computer and no Internet access at job #2...well you see. PLUS there was the last two weeks of my life in there...which...well...let's take a look.
First of all probably shortly after I last posted waaaaaaaay back on July 10th, my completely insane mother calls me to tell me that my Great Uncle is on his deathbed and probably will not make it through the night. Obviously I'm immediately upset. I realize the "great" in front of "uncle" makes it seem like this is more of a distant relative, but I lived with my Great Aunt and Uncle for two years and they are simply amazing people.
So, I'm at work, upset, and having a panic attack about what the next move should be. I'm supposed to go to Tennessee to see my Dad on Sunday...do I go? Should I leave for the big D.C. to see my Great Uncle tonight? Where will I stay? Will my Dad understand? What about job #2?
By the time the Boyfriend comes to get me from work I'm a mess. Or, I supposed you could make that MORE of a mess. PLUS the Best Friend goes and decides that it was also a SUPER day to pop out her third kid. So in addition to figuring out the aforementioned paragraph there this to do:
* Must pick up prescription from Walmart before 10pm
* Must get money from mom and make deposit at bank before Sunday
* Pay bills
* Go see Best Friend and Little C in the hospital
* Figure out what in the Holy Hell is going on with my house - specifically where the hell is all my stuff?
Oh yeah - did I forget to mention that the Boyfriend forgot to mention to his daughter's mom that we live together?? Yep. So, since she was dropping of the Daughter and was apparently touring our home (which I didn't know - it turns out it was all MY FAULT for not asking the right questions? Whatever) so all my stuff had to be shoved out of way so he wouldn't look like a big fat liar. Which, in that case, he was.
You wanna know what the really best way to push me over the edge when I'm panicking and feeling really rushed and stressed out? MOVE ALL MY STUFF ALL OVER THE DAMN PLACE SO I CAN'T POSSIBLY FIND IT. Yeah - see how THAT goes.
Oh and did I mention that I had T-minus 2 weeks to make, and mail 30 wedding shower invites??
Breath
I had assume (obviously completely wrongly) that the Boyfriend had gone to get my prescriptions already that day, it was the one thing I asked that get done. NOPE. So he went to go do that and I decided before continuing to have a panic attack to call my family in D.C. and see what the deal was.
Turns out my Great Uncle was "fine" meaning he wasn't going to die during the night, was stable, and, in fact, the kids were planning a fish boil for his birthday the next Saturday.
Once the Boyfriend returned, I gave him the updated situation, and, right before I could make a more graceful and less noticeable exit from my own home, an entire barrage of people came in, with gift for his Daughter. Which, is normally totally ok, but I'm in the middle of having a breakdown, I still have a legal sized to-do list, and now, apparently, I'm going to have to try and entertain people? Right.
I end up completely overwhelmed by the unexpected company, annoyed that the Boyfriend is now completely ignoring me, and pissed because I still can't find any of my stuff. I'm waiting for the Boyfriend to acknowledge the fact that I need to leave - like 15 minutes ago, but since that time never comes, I stomp around trying to find my misplaced items, since some of those are things I need to bring to the hospital for Best Friend.
I grab the rest of my stuff and get to the car only to realize guess who left it on dead empty? Now I have to go back inside and get my debit card. That done, I finally manage to leave the house - finally!
This concludes part one - if you would like to hear the parts two through who knows, because this is apparently getting much longer than I anticipated, you may tune in all the subsequent days to read them!
Monday, June 29, 2009
This isn't a real post, because it's Monday, and everybody knows that nothing real happens on Mondays
Last night I pretty much had the perfect opportunity to really improve on the looks of this blog, but then I got all lazy and crabby and decided that if the boyfriend could sleep the evening away then I didn't want to do anything either! Besides, who told him he could sleep when I wanted to be entertained. It surely wasn't me because that's just wrong. If I'm home and I want to talk to you, even if it's about nothing you better be awake. And...hey! Why are you leaving the room again?? GET BACK HERE!
Apparently he thought I was being crabby too, but guess what? I get to be crabby when I had to work for 7 1/2 hours on a Sunday while standing the whole time (in the rain! Uphill! Both ways! omg!!)Besides, while I was trying to move the printer off the desk and onto a nearby table-like thing, I knocked over a lamp whose light bulb then hit my finger and burned it. THEN, while I was trying to locate some more batteries for my camera I stepped on a tack which promptly went right into my foot, as sharp objects are wont to do.
That's when I decided to just stop doing stuff because evidently doing stuff is bad for my health. Also, I didn't want to turn gimpy like M from the gym who stubbed like all her toes and had blisters and all kinds of stuff, which, in turn, caused her to work in her socks all day. Which, I could care less about, but still, gimpy.
So back to this blog...
I was going to write about how Transformers doesn't really suck despite what all the critics say like this guy and Willie Waffle. I'm not sure what movie they saw but obviously it was not the same one I saw, so I'm assuming they must have been drunk because I know I wasn't.
I will admit though that the first little bit of the movie was highly confusing since I had no clue what was going on since the only time I saw the first Transformers movie I was sleeping, so I wasn't really watching it so much as hearing it and that's not really the same.
Eventually (maybe Wednesday if I'm not completely unconscious the entire day - I'll probably explain later) I want to post some cool pics from the very first gig the boyfriend had at this coffee shop on Saturday.
The pictures are complete flukes for the most part. I only took them trying to get the settings right on the camera so I was randomly shooting art on the wall, potted plants, and the counter. So, of course, when the boyfriend, et al, finally got up there to play my stupid camera let me get one picture off then absolutely refused to do anything else.
When I went to edit the pictures last night I figured I'd just do a bunch of crazy stuff over and over to the same picture and hope nobody would notice. I'm sure they wouldn't have either except now I just told you, so it's going to be glareingly obvious. Obvious only if I ever actually post them. I'm going to try really hard. Sometimes the lazy just gets to be too much. Plus the room with the computer is like an oven it's so hot in there so that really detracts from the amount of time I want to spend in there. If it was a laptop and I had wireless internet, then I would just do it somewhere cooler. It's not though, so here we are, pictureless.
Plus I have this wicked picture of the gluton free mac & cheese that I turned smurf blue. At first I thought it was just regular mold, but then it would really have to be some sort of super mold because it really just looked like the noodles had turned blue randomly. Now I think it has something to do with the blue cheese I put in there. So the moral of that story is do not add blue cheese to mac & cheese that you don't intend to eat right away.
Things to come:
Random gig pictures, plus one of the boyfriend that I re-did like 10 times to make it seem like I didn't run out of battery power on the camera
Smurf blue, gluton free, mac & cheese pictures, plus one I added like every possible effect to in an effort to make it seem less freaky-food and more ART!
Awesome pics of some of the super pretty flowers growing in our yard that I wish I could take credit for planting but I can't, but I can take credit for the awesome pictures because I did take those all by myself! Props!!
So enjoy...eventually
Apparently he thought I was being crabby too, but guess what? I get to be crabby when I had to work for 7 1/2 hours on a Sunday while standing the whole time (in the rain! Uphill! Both ways! omg!!)Besides, while I was trying to move the printer off the desk and onto a nearby table-like thing, I knocked over a lamp whose light bulb then hit my finger and burned it. THEN, while I was trying to locate some more batteries for my camera I stepped on a tack which promptly went right into my foot, as sharp objects are wont to do.
That's when I decided to just stop doing stuff because evidently doing stuff is bad for my health. Also, I didn't want to turn gimpy like M from the gym who stubbed like all her toes and had blisters and all kinds of stuff, which, in turn, caused her to work in her socks all day. Which, I could care less about, but still, gimpy.
So back to this blog...
I was going to write about how Transformers doesn't really suck despite what all the critics say like this guy and Willie Waffle. I'm not sure what movie they saw but obviously it was not the same one I saw, so I'm assuming they must have been drunk because I know I wasn't.
I will admit though that the first little bit of the movie was highly confusing since I had no clue what was going on since the only time I saw the first Transformers movie I was sleeping, so I wasn't really watching it so much as hearing it and that's not really the same.
Eventually (maybe Wednesday if I'm not completely unconscious the entire day - I'll probably explain later) I want to post some cool pics from the very first gig the boyfriend had at this coffee shop on Saturday.
The pictures are complete flukes for the most part. I only took them trying to get the settings right on the camera so I was randomly shooting art on the wall, potted plants, and the counter. So, of course, when the boyfriend, et al, finally got up there to play my stupid camera let me get one picture off then absolutely refused to do anything else.
When I went to edit the pictures last night I figured I'd just do a bunch of crazy stuff over and over to the same picture and hope nobody would notice. I'm sure they wouldn't have either except now I just told you, so it's going to be glareingly obvious. Obvious only if I ever actually post them. I'm going to try really hard. Sometimes the lazy just gets to be too much. Plus the room with the computer is like an oven it's so hot in there so that really detracts from the amount of time I want to spend in there. If it was a laptop and I had wireless internet, then I would just do it somewhere cooler. It's not though, so here we are, pictureless.
Plus I have this wicked picture of the gluton free mac & cheese that I turned smurf blue. At first I thought it was just regular mold, but then it would really have to be some sort of super mold because it really just looked like the noodles had turned blue randomly. Now I think it has something to do with the blue cheese I put in there. So the moral of that story is do not add blue cheese to mac & cheese that you don't intend to eat right away.
Things to come:
Random gig pictures, plus one of the boyfriend that I re-did like 10 times to make it seem like I didn't run out of battery power on the camera
Smurf blue, gluton free, mac & cheese pictures, plus one I added like every possible effect to in an effort to make it seem less freaky-food and more ART!
Awesome pics of some of the super pretty flowers growing in our yard that I wish I could take credit for planting but I can't, but I can take credit for the awesome pictures because I did take those all by myself! Props!!
So enjoy...eventually
Friday, June 19, 2009
Friday Bonus Edition: Awesome Shit I Just Found
It's probably painfully obvious that on Fridays I don't feel so much like working as I do obsessivly cruisin' the 'net. Don't judge me! Besides it's win-win because then I come back here and tell you about it too. Plus I've heard something about procastinating alone being like drinking alone. I don't know if that's true (probably because the bird that keeps knocking its head on my office window told me and even if he doesn't seem all that bright, he's very determined, and dogged persistance must prove something....right??)
Basically since I set foot inside the building today I've been pretty much doing nothing right and at this point I give up. Now we're coming to the part of the day where people are tending to fight with me about nothing, which ,I discussed the other day and I'm totally over that.
Anyway!
I was doing my daily (read: hourly) puruse of my regular blog haunts, and came across this posted on Good Mom/Bad Mom who finds the coolest stuff possibly ever. Seriously. If you did not check out that link (either of them, really) you're missing out. And that's not my fault.
For once.
Honestly though, would you not buy that for your kid? Or your friend's kid? Who doesn't want to be known as the coolest parent/aunt/uncle on the block? Nobody.(You see what I did there? I put the link in twice that's how bad I want you to go look at "it. Look! There it is again. Will you just click on it already??)
One of the other sites I read is PostSecret. This site only posts on Sundays. And they don't archieve. So bascially if you miss a week, you miss a week. Tough titties.
Well, unless you're me and you decide to google it juuuussst to make sure and then you find one of the most hilarious sites that you've seen in a long time.
If you don't know how PostSecret works, here is the explaination directly from their site:
"PostSecret is an onging community art project where people mail in their secrets annonymously on one side of a postcard."
They even have a multitude of books which I would purchase were I not so poor and they didn't cost, in some cases, over $20 a pop. Yikes. So anyway...for now I'll stick with reading my Sunday Secrets.
Ok! So this other site is Post-It Secret and according to that site:
"Post-it Secret was an ongoing blog where post-it notes came to confess their dirty and not so dirty secrets!"
Awesome.
I read a few pages of posts, they got a little repetitive after awhile but I still think it's a hilarious rip-off of, or tribuite to, depending on how you look at it, PostSecret.
Where PostSecret is a collection of annoymously sent postcards that people have written secrets on, sent in from all corners of the world. Post-it Secrets are essecntially the dark, secret thoughts of your post-its. Yes. Like those little yellow squares that sit innocently on your desk. They have a whole lot to say and it's not always pretty.
Here are a couple of examples to cut down on the anticipation of it all:
Basically since I set foot inside the building today I've been pretty much doing nothing right and at this point I give up. Now we're coming to the part of the day where people are tending to fight with me about nothing, which ,I discussed the other day and I'm totally over that.
Anyway!
I was doing my daily (read: hourly) puruse of my regular blog haunts, and came across this posted on Good Mom/Bad Mom who finds the coolest stuff possibly ever. Seriously. If you did not check out that link (either of them, really) you're missing out. And that's not my fault.
For once.
Honestly though, would you not buy that for your kid? Or your friend's kid? Who doesn't want to be known as the coolest parent/aunt/uncle on the block? Nobody.(You see what I did there? I put the link in twice that's how bad I want you to go look at "it. Look! There it is again. Will you just click on it already??)
One of the other sites I read is PostSecret. This site only posts on Sundays. And they don't archieve. So bascially if you miss a week, you miss a week. Tough titties.
Well, unless you're me and you decide to google it juuuussst to make sure and then you find one of the most hilarious sites that you've seen in a long time.
If you don't know how PostSecret works, here is the explaination directly from their site:
"PostSecret is an onging community art project where people mail in their secrets annonymously on one side of a postcard."
They even have a multitude of books which I would purchase were I not so poor and they didn't cost, in some cases, over $20 a pop. Yikes. So anyway...for now I'll stick with reading my Sunday Secrets.
Ok! So this other site is Post-It Secret and according to that site:
"Post-it Secret was an ongoing blog where post-it notes came to confess their dirty and not so dirty secrets!"
Awesome.
I read a few pages of posts, they got a little repetitive after awhile but I still think it's a hilarious rip-off of, or tribuite to, depending on how you look at it, PostSecret.
Where PostSecret is a collection of annoymously sent postcards that people have written secrets on, sent in from all corners of the world. Post-it Secrets are essecntially the dark, secret thoughts of your post-its. Yes. Like those little yellow squares that sit innocently on your desk. They have a whole lot to say and it's not always pretty.
Here are a couple of examples to cut down on the anticipation of it all:
Friday, June 12, 2009
Canes of mass destruction
You ever notice how old people who are using a mobile aid seem to be just fakin’ it half the time? Like, rather than pushing their walker they are practically carrying it? Or that cane they suddenly use as a dance prop? Filthy liars. I’m pretty sure they’re just vying for more attention. Obviously. That or they just want to mess with you simply because they can.
Like yesterday – I had to go to Wally World to pick up a prescription (shut it! It’s like $30 cheaper than Walgreens!) Of course, right as I’m walking in, this ancient women in this mobile wheelchair-connected-to-a-shopping-cart thing gets in front of me. And. Goes. Very. Very. Slowly. Like you’d think the thing hadn’t been charged since Moses parted the Red Sea or something.
Of course where do old people go? If you said anything other than the pharmacy, Robert Goulet is gonna be at your house tomorrow at 3pm to mess with your stuff. And you deserve it. Yeah, I’m an asshole, but cutting off biblically old people at the Wal-Mart would probably result in some sort of lynch mob. I really don’t want to find out.
So, I’m behind her. Walking. Very. Very. Slowly. I mean like snails and turtles and stuff were flying by us. We get to the pharmacy area and I also now have to buy a razor because I look like a French Hippie my legs are so hairy. What does this woman do? Oh that’s right, she hits turbo on her chair and **zoom** literally takes off leaving me in a cloud of Wal-Mart floor dirt. The hell?
Why exactly didn’t this happen like 10 years ago? Whatever – shake it off.
Theeeen about 15 or so minutes later, the boyfriend and I are pursing the shampoo isle (yeah I didn’t do so good with the dirt-ass cheap shampoo) and guess who’s blocking my view of half of the products? Yep – the first woman on earth. Still in her mobile wheelchair/shopping cart thing. This time, another woman is with her as well. Of course I smile and act like it’s totally no big deal that I can’t even look at half the shampoos. Who cares? I’m already rockin’ the Hippy thing from it taking half a century to get to the pharmacy so who needs clean hair right? I’ll just mash it into dreads so that’s totally cool.
Eventually they leave and I zone in on the area they were previously blocking. But what’s that sound off to my right there? Oh! It’s Grandma Moses in the chair hittin’ it in reverse. Then forward. Then reverse. Then forward. The hell??
I’m trying to avoid eye contact because I have a sneaking suspicion that she wants me to move so she can just barrel down the isle and go positively **zooming** on her way. In fact, I half expected the boyfriend to be all “Hey asshole, move your giant butt and let the woman through” (you know, to me, not to the old woman). He was apparently too intent on finding just the right hair gel though. Luckily for me. Not so lucky for Grandma Moses.
Also? Why she just didn’t pull a U’ey in the isle? I have no idea. Again: whatever, because soon enough I hear her kick it into turbo once again and **zoom** away. Seriously.
Listen up old people – I’m not sure what game you’re playing at out there – but apparently it’s working cuz I’m so mad I’m blogging about it. So you win for now. For now.
Old people:2 Me: 0
Like yesterday – I had to go to Wally World to pick up a prescription (shut it! It’s like $30 cheaper than Walgreens!) Of course, right as I’m walking in, this ancient women in this mobile wheelchair-connected-to-a-shopping-cart thing gets in front of me. And. Goes. Very. Very. Slowly. Like you’d think the thing hadn’t been charged since Moses parted the Red Sea or something.
Of course where do old people go? If you said anything other than the pharmacy, Robert Goulet is gonna be at your house tomorrow at 3pm to mess with your stuff. And you deserve it. Yeah, I’m an asshole, but cutting off biblically old people at the Wal-Mart would probably result in some sort of lynch mob. I really don’t want to find out.
So, I’m behind her. Walking. Very. Very. Slowly. I mean like snails and turtles and stuff were flying by us. We get to the pharmacy area and I also now have to buy a razor because I look like a French Hippie my legs are so hairy. What does this woman do? Oh that’s right, she hits turbo on her chair and **zoom** literally takes off leaving me in a cloud of Wal-Mart floor dirt. The hell?
Why exactly didn’t this happen like 10 years ago? Whatever – shake it off.
Theeeen about 15 or so minutes later, the boyfriend and I are pursing the shampoo isle (yeah I didn’t do so good with the dirt-ass cheap shampoo) and guess who’s blocking my view of half of the products? Yep – the first woman on earth. Still in her mobile wheelchair/shopping cart thing. This time, another woman is with her as well. Of course I smile and act like it’s totally no big deal that I can’t even look at half the shampoos. Who cares? I’m already rockin’ the Hippy thing from it taking half a century to get to the pharmacy so who needs clean hair right? I’ll just mash it into dreads so that’s totally cool.
Eventually they leave and I zone in on the area they were previously blocking. But what’s that sound off to my right there? Oh! It’s Grandma Moses in the chair hittin’ it in reverse. Then forward. Then reverse. Then forward. The hell??
I’m trying to avoid eye contact because I have a sneaking suspicion that she wants me to move so she can just barrel down the isle and go positively **zooming** on her way. In fact, I half expected the boyfriend to be all “Hey asshole, move your giant butt and let the woman through” (you know, to me, not to the old woman). He was apparently too intent on finding just the right hair gel though. Luckily for me. Not so lucky for Grandma Moses.
Also? Why she just didn’t pull a U’ey in the isle? I have no idea. Again: whatever, because soon enough I hear her kick it into turbo once again and **zoom** away. Seriously.
Listen up old people – I’m not sure what game you’re playing at out there – but apparently it’s working cuz I’m so mad I’m blogging about it. So you win for now. For now.
Old people:2 Me: 0
Wednesday, June 10, 2009
If you post it, it will become radio fodder
Yesterday I posted part one of what I think will be a three part series regarding the current parking war occuring in my shared driveway.
Today on Connie & Fish's morning show on Z104, guess what they were talking about? Annoying neighbors! And guess what else? I can't wait for you to guess so I'm just gonna tell you: Fish made a comment about house neighbors being more annoying than apartment neighbors for the exact reasons I talked about.
It's like the Twilight Zone but for blogs.
Or I'm just far ahead of my time. By like a day.
Today on Connie & Fish's morning show on Z104, guess what they were talking about? Annoying neighbors! And guess what else? I can't wait for you to guess so I'm just gonna tell you: Fish made a comment about house neighbors being more annoying than apartment neighbors for the exact reasons I talked about.
It's like the Twilight Zone but for blogs.
Or I'm just far ahead of my time. By like a day.
Thursday, May 14, 2009
Hey "My Name is Earl" producers...I'll be expecting my royalty check any day now. By the way - you're welcome
This is probably super creepy to most people, but I’ve been planning my funeral for some time now. I’ve attend a fair amount of funerals now and I’m pretty sure of what I want and don’t want going on at mine. Mainly this includes good music – of MY choosing and no tacky dressers. There will be no “Christmas Sweaters” or any other “holiday sweaters” worn to my funeral. Just no. Honestly, they shouldn’t be worn anywhere, and especially not at my funeral. You shall be clad in all black or you’re not getting in. End of story. So plan accordingly.
So anyway – a few weeks back the boyfriend and I were driving, and we happened to pass a funeral home. Suddenly the best idea ever popped into my head: what if….instead of being all boring and laying in a casket….I was sitting up in a CHAIR to greet people as they walked in? Fantastic! And totally unexpected. But mainly fantastic!
Then last night I was pretty convinced I was going to die, so I reminded the boyfriend about my chair plans, but I told him I guess if he wanted to throw my cello in front of me, that would be ok too. This led to a discussion regarding the use of animatronics to simulate my actual playing of the cello, as well as a cello track playing to enhance the effect. Just so long as the track playing is like Yo-Yo Ma or someone equally amazing. I mean people might as well remember me for the awesome cello player that I was – even if I was never anywhere near that level of good. It’s my funeral and you’ll remember me how I want damn it!
Well in between these two conversations occurring, I happened to randomly catch an episode of “My Name is Earl”. It was fairly uneventful to start, more of the “cross this person off my list and earn some good karma” yada yada…and then….then I saw John Waters. If you don’t know who John Waters is you need to leave now and go figure it out. I’m not going to explain it here because he’s just that awesome that I shouldn’t even need to. Go ahead…I’ll wait.
Ok! Awesome right? I know. Yeah so I see John Waters playing this "creative" funeral director and get this – it’s the same idea I had about mine! At this particular funeral home they set the people up doing the things that they loved in life – like sitting in a Lay-z-Boy, watching “the game” and eating chips. Or sitting at a computer and playing games. Whatever.
This did two things: 1) Scared me into wondering if secretly the producers of “My Name is Earl” have my car bugged and 2) Solidified that fact that sitting in a chair and greeting people at my funeral would, in fact, be, like, the coolest thing ever.
Basically expect my royalty check from “My Name is Earl” any day now. It’s really only fair – especially since I had the idea first….oh wait – I just looked this up and I guess I wasn’t technically first since that episode ran in like 2007. Still…..I think I at least deserve a check to acknowledge my awesomeness at coming up with it on my own!
So anyway – a few weeks back the boyfriend and I were driving, and we happened to pass a funeral home. Suddenly the best idea ever popped into my head: what if….instead of being all boring and laying in a casket….I was sitting up in a CHAIR to greet people as they walked in? Fantastic! And totally unexpected. But mainly fantastic!
Then last night I was pretty convinced I was going to die, so I reminded the boyfriend about my chair plans, but I told him I guess if he wanted to throw my cello in front of me, that would be ok too. This led to a discussion regarding the use of animatronics to simulate my actual playing of the cello, as well as a cello track playing to enhance the effect. Just so long as the track playing is like Yo-Yo Ma or someone equally amazing. I mean people might as well remember me for the awesome cello player that I was – even if I was never anywhere near that level of good. It’s my funeral and you’ll remember me how I want damn it!
Well in between these two conversations occurring, I happened to randomly catch an episode of “My Name is Earl”. It was fairly uneventful to start, more of the “cross this person off my list and earn some good karma” yada yada…and then….then I saw John Waters. If you don’t know who John Waters is you need to leave now and go figure it out. I’m not going to explain it here because he’s just that awesome that I shouldn’t even need to. Go ahead…I’ll wait.
Ok! Awesome right? I know. Yeah so I see John Waters playing this "creative" funeral director and get this – it’s the same idea I had about mine! At this particular funeral home they set the people up doing the things that they loved in life – like sitting in a Lay-z-Boy, watching “the game” and eating chips. Or sitting at a computer and playing games. Whatever.
This did two things: 1) Scared me into wondering if secretly the producers of “My Name is Earl” have my car bugged and 2) Solidified that fact that sitting in a chair and greeting people at my funeral would, in fact, be, like, the coolest thing ever.
Basically expect my royalty check from “My Name is Earl” any day now. It’s really only fair – especially since I had the idea first….oh wait – I just looked this up and I guess I wasn’t technically first since that episode ran in like 2007. Still…..I think I at least deserve a check to acknowledge my awesomeness at coming up with it on my own!
Wednesday, May 13, 2009
An informational and unathorized study in summer traffic patterns. Yeah it's pretty much as riveting as it sounds
I'm going to just say right off the bat here, that if you are from Illinois or Minnesota, or you know someone there, or you just feel really friendly about either state and their respective drivers, then you might want to just stop reading now. Or, actually keep reading and maybe take some notes, because you might learn something. Or, you might send me hate mail. Either way. I just thought you should know.
That said.....I do a lot of driving, especially since all of my doctors are in a city 30-40 minutes away. I spend a lot of time on the interstate. I wish this wasn't the case. This is why: Wisconsin is too damn close to Illinois and Minnesota (see headlines over the winter declaring it Minniconsin - I don't think so).
Typcially, this doesn't bother me - especially when I decide I want to go to Chicago or the Mall of America (because what's better at M of A then no sales taxes on clothes!) Then summer and the traveling season rolls around again, and I get all stabby at the thought of having to drive with those people.
I personally feel like there should be a toll for entering Wisconsin, but only if you are from Illinois. And in the travelin' season - Minnesota. I'm not 100% sure what exactly happens once the border is crossed, but obviously it's no good. No good AT ALL.
It's much like the phenomenon that occurs in Door County where, apparently, all tourists must check their brains once they cross the bridge in Sturgeon Bay. You can pick 'em up on the way out, but, my understanding is, once you cross that bridge you basically lose your mind. Litterally.
Back on task here - **ahem** there are two ways that people from Illinois drive. One way I can deal with because it pretty much mirrors the way I drive. The other is just plain insane.
Method 1: Just drive really fast at all costs. Yeah you'll probably end up riding someone for a bit until you can finally manage to pass them, or, they get the hit and get out of the way. I pretty much drive like this most of the time so I can respect this method. I suspect that these drivers are from the Chicago area. Or former Milwaukee dwellers, because this is also how everyone on the expressway drives.
Method 2: Basically this methody entails driving like the biggest asshat KNOWN TO MANKIND. You pretty much just work really hard at making my blood pressure just completely skyrocket which is fairly hard because I have really really low blood pressure. So good job. This is what it looks like:
Step one: Get in the left lane and act like you are going to pass everyone in the right lane
like you should be doing
Step two: Come up along a semi. This is probably why you got in the left lane in the first
place.
Step three: Once you are along side the semi - rather than speeding up, or at least staying
above 70, slow waaaay down. Like to 65 or slower. Do this completely inexplicibly. It works
best if you not even behind anyone because then you just deepen the mystery. I'm not sure
what you're doing during this time. Examining the possible "art" on the semi bed? Admiring
the mud flaps? Day dreaming about life on the open road??
Step four: Feel pretty smug knowing that you have now just completely enraged the 20 or
so cars that have built up behind you in the meantime. Hahaha - yes, you are king of the
assholes now!
Step five: Once you have finally passed the semi, put on your turn singal indicating that you
now intend to move to the right lane - finally. Do you hear the sound of cheers behind you?
Step six: Leisurely change lanes while the first car behind you practically runs you off the
road because they are so glad you are mercifully getting out of the way.
Step seven: Now that you are in the right lane, and are sure that the car trying to pass you
for the last eternity is going to now try and blow by you at the speed of light they are so mad,
you must speed up to that same speed. More points if you go so fast that you know they
won't make an attempt to keep up.
Bonus step!: If you do this correctly, you can keep passing the car now desperate to pass
YOU, in the right lane because, you know that unlike youself they probably aren't going to go
100 miles an hour(!!) just to play your game. So, the bonus is that pretty soon you are going to
come up on either a semi or much slower moving car in the right lane, so off you go to the left
once again and can now start the entire process over!
Such FUN!!
Minnesota pretty much employs the same driving style as method 2, but are typically less dedicated so they'll piss you off for awhile for sure, but probably not as long. Which is slightly better.
So - as the gas prices rise this tourist season, so may your blood pressure. Enjoy the ride!
That said.....I do a lot of driving, especially since all of my doctors are in a city 30-40 minutes away. I spend a lot of time on the interstate. I wish this wasn't the case. This is why: Wisconsin is too damn close to Illinois and Minnesota (see headlines over the winter declaring it Minniconsin - I don't think so).
Typcially, this doesn't bother me - especially when I decide I want to go to Chicago or the Mall of America (because what's better at M of A then no sales taxes on clothes!) Then summer and the traveling season rolls around again, and I get all stabby at the thought of having to drive with those people.
I personally feel like there should be a toll for entering Wisconsin, but only if you are from Illinois. And in the travelin' season - Minnesota. I'm not 100% sure what exactly happens once the border is crossed, but obviously it's no good. No good AT ALL.
It's much like the phenomenon that occurs in Door County where, apparently, all tourists must check their brains once they cross the bridge in Sturgeon Bay. You can pick 'em up on the way out, but, my understanding is, once you cross that bridge you basically lose your mind. Litterally.
Back on task here - **ahem** there are two ways that people from Illinois drive. One way I can deal with because it pretty much mirrors the way I drive. The other is just plain insane.
Method 1: Just drive really fast at all costs. Yeah you'll probably end up riding someone for a bit until you can finally manage to pass them, or, they get the hit and get out of the way. I pretty much drive like this most of the time so I can respect this method. I suspect that these drivers are from the Chicago area. Or former Milwaukee dwellers, because this is also how everyone on the expressway drives.
Method 2: Basically this methody entails driving like the biggest asshat KNOWN TO MANKIND. You pretty much just work really hard at making my blood pressure just completely skyrocket which is fairly hard because I have really really low blood pressure. So good job. This is what it looks like:
Step one: Get in the left lane and act like you are going to pass everyone in the right lane
like you should be doing
Step two: Come up along a semi. This is probably why you got in the left lane in the first
place.
Step three: Once you are along side the semi - rather than speeding up, or at least staying
above 70, slow waaaay down. Like to 65 or slower. Do this completely inexplicibly. It works
best if you not even behind anyone because then you just deepen the mystery. I'm not sure
what you're doing during this time. Examining the possible "art" on the semi bed? Admiring
the mud flaps? Day dreaming about life on the open road??
Step four: Feel pretty smug knowing that you have now just completely enraged the 20 or
so cars that have built up behind you in the meantime. Hahaha - yes, you are king of the
assholes now!
Step five: Once you have finally passed the semi, put on your turn singal indicating that you
now intend to move to the right lane - finally. Do you hear the sound of cheers behind you?
Step six: Leisurely change lanes while the first car behind you practically runs you off the
road because they are so glad you are mercifully getting out of the way.
Step seven: Now that you are in the right lane, and are sure that the car trying to pass you
for the last eternity is going to now try and blow by you at the speed of light they are so mad,
you must speed up to that same speed. More points if you go so fast that you know they
won't make an attempt to keep up.
Bonus step!: If you do this correctly, you can keep passing the car now desperate to pass
YOU, in the right lane because, you know that unlike youself they probably aren't going to go
100 miles an hour(!!) just to play your game. So, the bonus is that pretty soon you are going to
come up on either a semi or much slower moving car in the right lane, so off you go to the left
once again and can now start the entire process over!
Such FUN!!
Minnesota pretty much employs the same driving style as method 2, but are typically less dedicated so they'll piss you off for awhile for sure, but probably not as long. Which is slightly better.
So - as the gas prices rise this tourist season, so may your blood pressure. Enjoy the ride!
Thursday, April 23, 2009
Well This Certainly Isn't Going as Planned!
Originally I started this blog so that I could post the ideas that stike me while I'm supposed to be working. Othewise they may or may not be written and if they are they usually sit in my e-mail waiting to be edited until such a time when I either delete it or post it anyway on my MySpace blog and it's almost not even relavant anymore.
I wanted to start posts over here though with past posts from my MySpace blog. Yet the only time I have time to access my MySpace blog is at work, which my company has blocked because apparently they feel that were you to have access to MySpace you would cease being productive. Little do they know that I've since come up with hundreds of new ways to stay unproductive. So I still win.
This isn't the only deterrant though. After realizing that I probably wasn't going to be taking the necessary time to repost MySpace posts here I thought maybe this could be the blog where I address all the nasty issues (hey - head out of the gutter people!!) that I can't on MySpace since people would inevidable realize who I was talking about (possibly them!) and get upset. While it's nice to vent, I don't want to risk ticking anybody else off either. Then I lose.
THEN I thought hey! This could become the place where I basically hold Alanon meetings for myself and work though those issues. But, I mean, how depressing is that! First of all - who wants to read the depressed rantings of well, me? Second - I don't think I want to put that kind of negativity out in the universe. There's already enough out there and I doubt I need to add to it.
Basically what it comes down to is that I want this to be as much fun as I think my MySpace blog is (most of the time), and I want people to want to read this. And I want to eventually break the news to everyone else that I have this thing going on over here and they should come check it out.
Here's the plan: I'm just going to move forward as if this blog has been existing for some time...and if I ever get around to posting old MySpace posts on here then yay me! If not...so what?
Enjoy!
I wanted to start posts over here though with past posts from my MySpace blog. Yet the only time I have time to access my MySpace blog is at work, which my company has blocked because apparently they feel that were you to have access to MySpace you would cease being productive. Little do they know that I've since come up with hundreds of new ways to stay unproductive. So I still win.
This isn't the only deterrant though. After realizing that I probably wasn't going to be taking the necessary time to repost MySpace posts here I thought maybe this could be the blog where I address all the nasty issues (hey - head out of the gutter people!!) that I can't on MySpace since people would inevidable realize who I was talking about (possibly them!) and get upset. While it's nice to vent, I don't want to risk ticking anybody else off either. Then I lose.
THEN I thought hey! This could become the place where I basically hold Alanon meetings for myself and work though those issues. But, I mean, how depressing is that! First of all - who wants to read the depressed rantings of well, me? Second - I don't think I want to put that kind of negativity out in the universe. There's already enough out there and I doubt I need to add to it.
Basically what it comes down to is that I want this to be as much fun as I think my MySpace blog is (most of the time), and I want people to want to read this. And I want to eventually break the news to everyone else that I have this thing going on over here and they should come check it out.
Here's the plan: I'm just going to move forward as if this blog has been existing for some time...and if I ever get around to posting old MySpace posts on here then yay me! If not...so what?
Enjoy!
Thursday, February 26, 2009
Alright - time to get this party started - hey take that lamp shade off your head!
Greetings! After about 2 or 3 years of fairly regular MySpace blog posts I've decided it's time to expand - afterall everyone needs some breathing room right? AND if I'm being completely honest, I tend to get most of my super spectacular must be published RIGHT NOW blog ideas while I'm at work - and do you ya think I can access MySpace at work? Nope. I can't even Twitter. It's like God hates me. Or thinks I need to be a more productive employee....huh. At any rate! Guess what I can access at work? Oh yeah! So welcome....if you've followed my MySpace blog - many thanks. While I intend to keep that one up - so as not to disappoint my many adoring fans **ahem** this will give me the opportunity to reach you quicker and more frequently. I know you're excited. I am too. Welcome - and please to enjoy!
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