I was in a pretty good mood yesterday - well aside from the fact that I was unable to attend one of my kickboxing classes (seriously, if I don't get to punch something twice a week...well pretty much all bets are off). On the way home I started composing what I thought would have been a fairly spectacular (if I do say so myself) post.
It was going to be more like a work in progress until my birthday in August. You know, kind of like a "look how far I've come" type deal. I was getting pretty excited about it - I felt like for my age I've done some fairly cool stuff, seen some fairly cool stuff, and survived some fairy crazy stuff. Basically I thought I had a decent retrospective on my hands that would be at least somewhat amusing.
So I thought....
Then I read this and thought - mmaaaaaaybe notsomuch.
You guys - the woman who writes this blog is amazing. Everyday she had amazing experiences with her son in NY. She's probably not much older than me and she's just gotten to do things I can't even imagine. This particular post is about the indy record/clothing/dance club/coffee shop she opened at age 21.
At age 21 I was still in collage, I'd done an internship with the Peninsula Music Festival , which I still think is amazing, and then graduated and headed back up north to work at a theatre. A little ho-hum in comparison.
I still think my experiences are special and I believe that there are a few people out there who might think they are pretty amazing and might think I've been the one out there doing amazing stuff. I think I have.
Showing posts with label random thought by megan. Show all posts
Showing posts with label random thought by megan. Show all posts
Thursday, February 4, 2010
Wednesday, October 28, 2009
I'm BAAAAA-AACK and about to regale you with more stories from the WC. You're welcome.
So I pop into the bathroom at work and the first stall I try - the toilet is filled with pee and toilet paper. Which…gross. Especially at work. So I move on to the next one since It’s not my job to flush after you. But I’m sitting there and I get to thinking – how, exactly, does that even HAPPEN? I mean, were you peeing and then suddenly you were all “I’m supposed to be in a meeting!” and you just wipe and run? Did you simply forget that you had just peed, yet remembered to wipe? I just don’t understand this – it blew my mind.
THEN…
I’m still sitting there and someone else walks in and goes directly to the pee toilet. I assumed this person would turn and walk away, like I had, and choose another stall – there were three more open after all. But no. She enters. So ok – and this point I’m thinking she’s clearly a better person than I am (or just willing to put up with more gross co-workers). I’m assuming, however, that she will flush first, since….gross. I mean just…imagine. But…once again….nooo. She does her business, flushes…and goes to wash her hands.
So at this point – I’m thinking maybe it was already her pee, like maybe she came in the first time, does her thing, remembers this random meeting, or call, or whatever….wipes and runs planning, the entire time, to come back later and finish and flush.
Or maybe …. I’ve spent too much time contemplating this whole situation and should seek professional help. And apparently so should Ms. Multi-pee. You know, if you're asking me.
THEN…
I’m still sitting there and someone else walks in and goes directly to the pee toilet. I assumed this person would turn and walk away, like I had, and choose another stall – there were three more open after all. But no. She enters. So ok – and this point I’m thinking she’s clearly a better person than I am (or just willing to put up with more gross co-workers). I’m assuming, however, that she will flush first, since….gross. I mean just…imagine. But…once again….nooo. She does her business, flushes…and goes to wash her hands.
So at this point – I’m thinking maybe it was already her pee, like maybe she came in the first time, does her thing, remembers this random meeting, or call, or whatever….wipes and runs planning, the entire time, to come back later and finish and flush.
Or maybe …. I’ve spent too much time contemplating this whole situation and should seek professional help. And apparently so should Ms. Multi-pee. You know, if you're asking me.
Sunday, September 20, 2009
Deep thoughts, by Megan Handy
So you know that one - "There's a thin line between love and hate?"
I'm sure we've all been there at one time or another.
It still blows my mind how true this is.
How in the course of one day you can go from feeling completely in love to hardly even being able to look that person in the eye.
How one second you're absolutely sure they would do anything for you, to wondering when they became the most selfish person you know.
How far though, can you cross the line before you can't go back?
Could you ever go back?
Would you want to?
Sometimes you just keep straddling the line, hopping from one side to the other like you're on fire.
Eventually that fire is either going to go out, or completely consume you.
Either way you're going to go up in flames.
Is there ever a time you can get far enough away from the line? Far enough to not make that short skip to hate?
What happens then?
Do you still go up in flames?
Does the love consume you so completely that you can't go back to who you were?
Do you lose yourself?
Do you lose either way?
Do you have to?
Maybe this is all in vain - all this wondering, contemplating, analyzing.
Maybe I'll turn around and someone will say hey "Them's the rules"
Do they have to be?
How do you break the cycle?
Or does it even matter.
Once it's broken with one person, you'll surely enter it again.
The love, the hate, the love.
Back and forth
Like God's playing ping pong with your heart.
With your emotions.
Your life.
Why can't the game just stop without having to fall right off the table.
Can you control the fall?
Can't you just stand up and scream "Enough!"
Maybe if you scream loud enough everyone will finally just shut up and listen.
Maybe then you can get a handle on things.
Then again....
Maybe you won't.
I'm sure we've all been there at one time or another.
It still blows my mind how true this is.
How in the course of one day you can go from feeling completely in love to hardly even being able to look that person in the eye.
How one second you're absolutely sure they would do anything for you, to wondering when they became the most selfish person you know.
How far though, can you cross the line before you can't go back?
Could you ever go back?
Would you want to?
Sometimes you just keep straddling the line, hopping from one side to the other like you're on fire.
Eventually that fire is either going to go out, or completely consume you.
Either way you're going to go up in flames.
Is there ever a time you can get far enough away from the line? Far enough to not make that short skip to hate?
What happens then?
Do you still go up in flames?
Does the love consume you so completely that you can't go back to who you were?
Do you lose yourself?
Do you lose either way?
Do you have to?
Maybe this is all in vain - all this wondering, contemplating, analyzing.
Maybe I'll turn around and someone will say hey "Them's the rules"
Do they have to be?
How do you break the cycle?
Or does it even matter.
Once it's broken with one person, you'll surely enter it again.
The love, the hate, the love.
Back and forth
Like God's playing ping pong with your heart.
With your emotions.
Your life.
Why can't the game just stop without having to fall right off the table.
Can you control the fall?
Can't you just stand up and scream "Enough!"
Maybe if you scream loud enough everyone will finally just shut up and listen.
Maybe then you can get a handle on things.
Then again....
Maybe you won't.
Monday, August 31, 2009
You got me feeling emotions
Once, long ago, my emotions were in check. There was a time, long ago, when I couldn't recall the last time I had cried. Could probably count on one hand the amount of times I cried in an entire year.
Then, Lord only knows what happened. Apparently someone took the cork out of the bucket.
Now, I'm as likely to cry about a schizophrenic homeless man getting a cello from Robert Downy Jr. as I am to go through a box of Kleenex watching the evil Sara McLaughlin homeless pet commercials.
What happened?
It's not so much that I mind that I've become more prone to cry at movies and long distance commericals now, but I do mind it at other times.
For instance, they tell you never to let your boss see you cry, or, if you really do need to cry at work you should excuse yourself for a minute, get it together and get on with your day. That would be a gigantic FAIL for me. Upon being told my sales aren't up to par, I had a melt down in my bosses office in front of HR. Yet, two and a half years ago when, at a different job, my boss returned from being gone all day, and promptly told me I was being let go effective immediately I sucked it in, looked her straight in the eye and said, simply, "Ok." When she asked me if I had any questions, I held my gaze and asked her "Why?". Then I found a box, packed up my stuff, got in my car, and THEN had a breakdown.
What happened to that person? Where's that internal stop that said "Hey! Buck up little camper! Get through this and THEN you can cry all you want in PRIVATE."
It would be an especially helpful thing considering the soap opera of a life I have. I'd love nothing more then to get in a fight with the Boyfriend, such as we recently did, and just get all quiet, then walk up to him real close, look him right in the eye and say, very quietly, "I think you know what you should do." and then just walk away. How fantastic? Let HIM sweat it out.
Instead there's crying (me), yelling (me), begging (me), pleading (me), complete inappropriateness (him), threats (him), yelling some more (me)...anyway it's quite messy. Then two or three days later it's cleared up.
Or in a business setting - such as the one where my route was to have a crying jag. Just sit there, unflinching, and when everyone is done saying their piece and expressing just how much I, apparently, suck at my job if you are simply basing it on sales report numbers in a slow economy, I just sit back and say "Is that all?" Nods all around perhaps, and I say "Alright then, I have some business to attend to, so if you're done wasting my time?..." and they say "Of course!" and apologize to me for further hindering my ability to service my customers since they had me sequestered in an office.
Maybe if I had a gene I'd ask for that ability. Then they'd be so confused when I wished for that that they'd just give it to me with none of those tricky gene caveat's because nobody would have ever asked for that before and it's not only completely unselfish but would benefit everyone in the long run.
You're welcome. From me AND my gene.
Then, Lord only knows what happened. Apparently someone took the cork out of the bucket.
Now, I'm as likely to cry about a schizophrenic homeless man getting a cello from Robert Downy Jr. as I am to go through a box of Kleenex watching the evil Sara McLaughlin homeless pet commercials.
What happened?
It's not so much that I mind that I've become more prone to cry at movies and long distance commericals now, but I do mind it at other times.
For instance, they tell you never to let your boss see you cry, or, if you really do need to cry at work you should excuse yourself for a minute, get it together and get on with your day. That would be a gigantic FAIL for me. Upon being told my sales aren't up to par, I had a melt down in my bosses office in front of HR. Yet, two and a half years ago when, at a different job, my boss returned from being gone all day, and promptly told me I was being let go effective immediately I sucked it in, looked her straight in the eye and said, simply, "Ok." When she asked me if I had any questions, I held my gaze and asked her "Why?". Then I found a box, packed up my stuff, got in my car, and THEN had a breakdown.
What happened to that person? Where's that internal stop that said "Hey! Buck up little camper! Get through this and THEN you can cry all you want in PRIVATE."
It would be an especially helpful thing considering the soap opera of a life I have. I'd love nothing more then to get in a fight with the Boyfriend, such as we recently did, and just get all quiet, then walk up to him real close, look him right in the eye and say, very quietly, "I think you know what you should do." and then just walk away. How fantastic? Let HIM sweat it out.
Instead there's crying (me), yelling (me), begging (me), pleading (me), complete inappropriateness (him), threats (him), yelling some more (me)...anyway it's quite messy. Then two or three days later it's cleared up.
Or in a business setting - such as the one where my route was to have a crying jag. Just sit there, unflinching, and when everyone is done saying their piece and expressing just how much I, apparently, suck at my job if you are simply basing it on sales report numbers in a slow economy, I just sit back and say "Is that all?" Nods all around perhaps, and I say "Alright then, I have some business to attend to, so if you're done wasting my time?..." and they say "Of course!" and apologize to me for further hindering my ability to service my customers since they had me sequestered in an office.
Maybe if I had a gene I'd ask for that ability. Then they'd be so confused when I wished for that that they'd just give it to me with none of those tricky gene caveat's because nobody would have ever asked for that before and it's not only completely unselfish but would benefit everyone in the long run.
You're welcome. From me AND my gene.
Wednesday, August 19, 2009
I guess August forgot to take its Prozac...or something
Nothing fun has happened lately.
Nothing.
Ok - well that's not entirely true. I made the Boyfriend go to a chi chi sushi restaurant with me on Saturday. That was fun.
Nothing else though.
I'm not sure what's wrong entirely. Apparently I'm not the only one. I'm ok with that as long as September and October get their shit together and shape up.
I think it started when I accidentally read something that was never probably intentioned for me. I didn't do it on purpose and I wasn't snooping, but now I wish I could take back what I saw. Just simply erase that tiny brain cell holding that information.
It's slowly destroying me.
I'm trying to act normal, but I don't think I'm doing a very good job. The Boyfriend is too perceptive of me. Damn it.
I'm also...just...tired.
I probably shouldn't be. I mean I just had two weeks of vacation. Suck it up buttercup! Right?
It's hard when you have to go back to your crappy job and all the...well...crap that you got to so briefly leave behind. Just for a little bit.
I came back and there it all was: the lawn that needed to be mowed, the weeds that needed to be pulled, the carpet that needs to be cleaned, all the extra stuff that just needs to get out of our house! Then there were the bills I can't pay, the two jobs that think I suck....
So when the Boyfriend went out for awhile on Friday night I should have been excited to get some menial stuff done. Poke around on the computer. Post those pictures I keep referencing but never do anything about.
So I showered and then realized I was so very hungry. I fixed some grub and then sat down. Then it was over.
Now the computer is so very far away! I mean all the way upstairs! Not to mention I was broken because of kickboxing.
Then the sitting/eating combo made me so very tired!
Next thing you know, the laundry is still sitting in the baskets, the dishes still need to be done, the scary place under the stairs is still crowded with all the crap we don't know what to do with, and all I can think about is how badly I just want to go to bed.
So here we are - another depressing post. Maybe you've all just ceased reading it at this point? Come back! I promise I'll be fixed very, very soon!
Until then - please to enjoy this litany of HILARITY I have assembled for you:
Those crazy kids
Now you can read OTHER PEOPLE'S drunken texts, FANTASTIC!
I'm not 100% sure what this is but I think I like it
The lighter side of "parenting"
Nothing.
Ok - well that's not entirely true. I made the Boyfriend go to a chi chi sushi restaurant with me on Saturday. That was fun.
Nothing else though.
I'm not sure what's wrong entirely. Apparently I'm not the only one. I'm ok with that as long as September and October get their shit together and shape up.
I think it started when I accidentally read something that was never probably intentioned for me. I didn't do it on purpose and I wasn't snooping, but now I wish I could take back what I saw. Just simply erase that tiny brain cell holding that information.
It's slowly destroying me.
I'm trying to act normal, but I don't think I'm doing a very good job. The Boyfriend is too perceptive of me. Damn it.
I'm also...just...tired.
I probably shouldn't be. I mean I just had two weeks of vacation. Suck it up buttercup! Right?
It's hard when you have to go back to your crappy job and all the...well...crap that you got to so briefly leave behind. Just for a little bit.
I came back and there it all was: the lawn that needed to be mowed, the weeds that needed to be pulled, the carpet that needs to be cleaned, all the extra stuff that just needs to get out of our house! Then there were the bills I can't pay, the two jobs that think I suck....
So when the Boyfriend went out for awhile on Friday night I should have been excited to get some menial stuff done. Poke around on the computer. Post those pictures I keep referencing but never do anything about.
So I showered and then realized I was so very hungry. I fixed some grub and then sat down. Then it was over.
Now the computer is so very far away! I mean all the way upstairs! Not to mention I was broken because of kickboxing.
Then the sitting/eating combo made me so very tired!
Next thing you know, the laundry is still sitting in the baskets, the dishes still need to be done, the scary place under the stairs is still crowded with all the crap we don't know what to do with, and all I can think about is how badly I just want to go to bed.
So here we are - another depressing post. Maybe you've all just ceased reading it at this point? Come back! I promise I'll be fixed very, very soon!
Until then - please to enjoy this litany of HILARITY I have assembled for you:
Those crazy kids
Now you can read OTHER PEOPLE'S drunken texts, FANTASTIC!
I'm not 100% sure what this is but I think I like it
The lighter side of "parenting"
Wednesday, August 12, 2009
This is probably why gym's shouldn't have TV's
The other day I managed to find a spare hour to hit the gym. While this is completely amazing just by its self, that’s not the story. The story is that I happened to see Donald Trump on one of the TV’s, kickin' it in his boardroom all The Apprentice style. He was with a young man (possibly his son. Does he have a son?) They were the only two people in the room, and were getting up from the table. Cut to a close up on T-Rump’s face. Cut back again to show T- Rump escorting the young man out of the boardroom.
Since I have no idea what was being said, it made me think: Does Donald Trump fire his family?
His kids for instance. Like when they were younger and they got in trouble for breaking curfew or whatever, instead of getting grounded, did T-Rump simply sit them down in a boardroom somewhere and just…fire…them?
Or his wives. Does he actually tell them he wants a divorce or does he also march them into the room, the table still wet from the tears of a firing earlier that day, and say “I’ve been really observing your performance these last few years and I don’t like what I see” and then he goes on to list whatever it is he’s sick of, then maybe he takes her hands and says “Dear, You’re Fired!”
Then she’s confused so she starts crying and T-Rump is all “Hey! There’s no crying in the boardroom, you take this outside missy” So she leaves and maybe gives a little confession in the elevator for T-Rump to watch later, maybe on You Tube, and then he calls his secretary to call maintenance to come wipe up this table for God’s sake, someone could slip and that’s just a lawsuit waiting to happen.
Since I have no idea what was being said, it made me think: Does Donald Trump fire his family?
His kids for instance. Like when they were younger and they got in trouble for breaking curfew or whatever, instead of getting grounded, did T-Rump simply sit them down in a boardroom somewhere and just…fire…them?
Or his wives. Does he actually tell them he wants a divorce or does he also march them into the room, the table still wet from the tears of a firing earlier that day, and say “I’ve been really observing your performance these last few years and I don’t like what I see” and then he goes on to list whatever it is he’s sick of, then maybe he takes her hands and says “Dear, You’re Fired!”
Then she’s confused so she starts crying and T-Rump is all “Hey! There’s no crying in the boardroom, you take this outside missy” So she leaves and maybe gives a little confession in the elevator for T-Rump to watch later, maybe on You Tube, and then he calls his secretary to call maintenance to come wipe up this table for God’s sake, someone could slip and that’s just a lawsuit waiting to happen.
Friday, August 7, 2009
I have a secret...you see there's this club, and I'm not in it
I have a secret. It’s something I didn’t even realize myself until recently. In fact, I couldn’t even really put a finger on it until I was ready to admit it to myself first. It’s not a big secret and I know I’m not alone, well,l I know at least one other person that had this secret too. You’d probably never even guess if I told you to – even if I said I would wait, and I would…wait that is.
See, there’s this sort of… “club” and I’m not in it. Not really. Sure, I get invited to hang out, but I’ll never have the membership card to prove anything. Nobody will ever sit me down and show me the secret handshake, or teach me the special knock. I realize there’s really nothing I can do about this, the club is closed to me and that’s understandable, but it doesn’t stop me from being jealous. Just a tiny bit.
I’m not jealous all the time, just some of the time. And it’s not really jealously, but a sort of twinge in my heart that’s there to remind me, to keep me in check. The twinge says: “You may have been invited to the party but you don’t get to stay for the show”. It reminds me of all the things I’m not really a part of. It reminds me of all the things, that no matter how hard I try, will never be reciprocated back to me. They just can’t, and that’s ok, that’s the way it should be because some of those things aren’t mine to have. Not yet.
It’s that love between a parent and child, father and daughter. It’s the thing that’s not mine to either have, or understand. Yet, it makes you want to be part of its warm embrace, keeping you safe. That unconditional love that can only occur in those very special relationships, the ones that go much deeper than us non-parents can sometimes understand.
I had a friend who already had two children when she met her boyfriend. After awhile, he started talking about wanting children of his own, much to my friend’s surprise. She didn’t get it...but I did. I never told her though. I never told her how it’s all about being in the club, about not only having that special parent-child bond, but that parent-parent bond as well. How you want to be able to look at a child doing something amazing and then reach over and take the hand of the person who created that amazing thing with you.
There’s someone else I can’t tell this too. I think he senses it, but he’s getting it wrong. He’s misinterpreting the jealously as a competition for his love. That’s not the case. There is no competition, and the love isn’t created equal, nor should it be. He doesn’t understand the way my friend didn’t understand. He’s already in the club. I’m still standing outside the gates, watching it all happen from between the iron bars.
See, there’s this sort of… “club” and I’m not in it. Not really. Sure, I get invited to hang out, but I’ll never have the membership card to prove anything. Nobody will ever sit me down and show me the secret handshake, or teach me the special knock. I realize there’s really nothing I can do about this, the club is closed to me and that’s understandable, but it doesn’t stop me from being jealous. Just a tiny bit.
I’m not jealous all the time, just some of the time. And it’s not really jealously, but a sort of twinge in my heart that’s there to remind me, to keep me in check. The twinge says: “You may have been invited to the party but you don’t get to stay for the show”. It reminds me of all the things I’m not really a part of. It reminds me of all the things, that no matter how hard I try, will never be reciprocated back to me. They just can’t, and that’s ok, that’s the way it should be because some of those things aren’t mine to have. Not yet.
It’s that love between a parent and child, father and daughter. It’s the thing that’s not mine to either have, or understand. Yet, it makes you want to be part of its warm embrace, keeping you safe. That unconditional love that can only occur in those very special relationships, the ones that go much deeper than us non-parents can sometimes understand.
I had a friend who already had two children when she met her boyfriend. After awhile, he started talking about wanting children of his own, much to my friend’s surprise. She didn’t get it...but I did. I never told her though. I never told her how it’s all about being in the club, about not only having that special parent-child bond, but that parent-parent bond as well. How you want to be able to look at a child doing something amazing and then reach over and take the hand of the person who created that amazing thing with you.
There’s someone else I can’t tell this too. I think he senses it, but he’s getting it wrong. He’s misinterpreting the jealously as a competition for his love. That’s not the case. There is no competition, and the love isn’t created equal, nor should it be. He doesn’t understand the way my friend didn’t understand. He’s already in the club. I’m still standing outside the gates, watching it all happen from between the iron bars.
Thursday, July 9, 2009
The Chinese Zodiac is trying to tell me my life is a lie
The boyfriend and I occasionally talk about the Zodiac, or really, usually just me when I'm trying to explain that I can't help that I wipe down the counters right after him because my Zodiac sign pretty much demands that I do it. That's not my fault it's the universe's fault so take it up with The Big Guy. Us Virgos are a little OCD. I'm sorry if that makes me hard to live with, but on the plus side, there is no way the house will ever be in complete chaos, so really he should be thanking me. You're welcome.
So there's the Western Zodiac, and then there's the Chinese Zodiac, which assigns you to certain animals based on the year you were born. I happen to be a Rooster, while the boyfriend is a Rabbit.
Since I couldn't remember what exactly the Rooster is known for...I assumed just being freaking annoying because have you ever been rudely awakened by a rooster? There is not sleeping when a rooster is around. Let me give you an image you can probably relate to: it's like being the next door neighbor of someone who owns a diesel truck. Just, you know...for instance.
Turns out, the Rooster is, among other things, a spotlight loving ego maniac! Which, sure, I'll admit I'm a bit of a stage whore, but I certainly don't mind sharing said stage. I just like performing, but usually with a group or at least one other person. That part didn't make a whole lot of sense to me, but everything else was pretty much right in line with my Western Virgo status.
Then it starts talking about who your animal is compatible with, and, it turns out that my MORTAL ENEMY (that is the exact verbiage used!) is the Rabbit...better known as....the boyfriend. That's interesting, because I certainly don't feel like he's my mortal enemy. I rather enjoy having him around, which, were we actually MORTAL ENEMIESI would assume would not be the case. I probably never would have started dating him and we most certainly wouldn't be living together. Because oh my God! Who would LIVE with their MORTAL ENEMY?? Me, apparently.
I told the boyfriend of course, since maybe I was missing something. He informed me that he knew and had been plotting for the last year. I was all "So you're just waiting for the right moment then?" He's like "Well Yeah." So I was like "Well I guess I better get on installing those surveillance cameras then eh?" He just laughed and asked me with what money I had purchased them with.
Gah! Touche young grasshopper.
So then I was all "Well I also knew a year ago and that's when I bought the cameras. I was also waiting for the most opportune moment...and I think we've finally come upon it". He really didn't seem all that concerned. Probably because I've been telling him that I've been slowly poising his coffee but he continues to live. He's not even sick. Sometimes it's like we're Mr & Mrs. Smith but without being actual assassins or having any ninja skills. Except for me because I kickbox. Although it's not like ninja style kickboxing, because that would be way cooler.
To recap:
I have no surveillance cameras and I'm apparently living with someone who, according to the Chinese Zodiac, is my MORTAL ENEMY. Awesome.
So there's the Western Zodiac, and then there's the Chinese Zodiac, which assigns you to certain animals based on the year you were born. I happen to be a Rooster, while the boyfriend is a Rabbit.
Since I couldn't remember what exactly the Rooster is known for...I assumed just being freaking annoying because have you ever been rudely awakened by a rooster? There is not sleeping when a rooster is around. Let me give you an image you can probably relate to: it's like being the next door neighbor of someone who owns a diesel truck. Just, you know...for instance.
Turns out, the Rooster is, among other things, a spotlight loving ego maniac! Which, sure, I'll admit I'm a bit of a stage whore, but I certainly don't mind sharing said stage. I just like performing, but usually with a group or at least one other person. That part didn't make a whole lot of sense to me, but everything else was pretty much right in line with my Western Virgo status.
Then it starts talking about who your animal is compatible with, and, it turns out that my MORTAL ENEMY (that is the exact verbiage used!) is the Rabbit...better known as....the boyfriend. That's interesting, because I certainly don't feel like he's my mortal enemy. I rather enjoy having him around, which, were we actually MORTAL ENEMIESI would assume would not be the case. I probably never would have started dating him and we most certainly wouldn't be living together. Because oh my God! Who would LIVE with their MORTAL ENEMY?? Me, apparently.
I told the boyfriend of course, since maybe I was missing something. He informed me that he knew and had been plotting for the last year. I was all "So you're just waiting for the right moment then?" He's like "Well Yeah." So I was like "Well I guess I better get on installing those surveillance cameras then eh?" He just laughed and asked me with what money I had purchased them with.
Gah! Touche young grasshopper.
So then I was all "Well I also knew a year ago and that's when I bought the cameras. I was also waiting for the most opportune moment...and I think we've finally come upon it". He really didn't seem all that concerned. Probably because I've been telling him that I've been slowly poising his coffee but he continues to live. He's not even sick. Sometimes it's like we're Mr & Mrs. Smith but without being actual assassins or having any ninja skills. Except for me because I kickbox. Although it's not like ninja style kickboxing, because that would be way cooler.
To recap:
I have no surveillance cameras and I'm apparently living with someone who, according to the Chinese Zodiac, is my MORTAL ENEMY. Awesome.
Tuesday, July 7, 2009
Guiding the Days of All My Bold Lives to Live
If you didn't get that title? It's a sad (very sad, I can admit that, I'm a big person) conglomeration of soap opera names*. I'd give prizes for who can guess them all correctly and first, but I'm poor, so your prize would probably be the not-so-yummy chocolate Skittles I attempted to eat at lunch yesterday. Now don't all go clamoring for them at once. Keep it civilized people!
* In case you just really have to know, or are confused because I did such a poor job the soaps are, in order: Guiding Light, Days of our Lives, All My Children, Bold and the Beautiful, One Life to Live
**Ahem!!** This is great because I don't even really have a post to get back to really, I mean at this point I could most likely just ramble on and on about soap operas, but I won't because I only watch Bold and the Beautiful and that's simply by default. Also? I'm bad with names, and this post would get very long, very quickly if I had to describe all the characters without names and with physical features only. In fact it's making me tired, and bored, and where was I going with any of this?
Sadly it's not even Monday anymore so I can't just write this whole thing off as a Monday occurrence which, obviously, everyone would understand. Nope - it's Tuesday so I'm supposed to be getting my shit together at this point right?
Right?
**tap** **tap**
**AHEM!!**
So let's see, I realized I promised some pictures, which, sadly, still have not happened. Not for lack of time really, more lack of motivation. Motivation and any sort of artistic inclination. Honestly, I was only out of it that one day, after that it was just sheer ennui that prevented me from doing anything else. That, and the list of crap I need to do that's quickly becoming extremely overwhelming, and where or where are those anxiety pills when you need 'em?? Clearly not here where they should be, keeping me breathing, and all the hair on my head and not in my clenched fists.
What's going on you may ask? A quick recap...as a side note I should warn you that this might sound a bit soap operaesque, you know, without all the evil twins and the resurrections and such, but still, if it didn't happen then this blog would be uber boring (or maybe just more uber boring) and I'd have to regal you with stories about kittens, or unicorns, or how keep getting this hangnail on my one finger that keeps turning into an infection and I wish that would just stop happening...and ANYWAY:
Wednesday: Have small bowel biopcey. Sleep for the rest of the day, except for the hour I was awake to make myself a sandwitch and take a couple of phone calls
Thursday: Have upsetting realization while talking to my financial advisor, but nothing that other people haven't already had to do, luckily it also means I don't get to work until 10am.
Manage to hit the gym for a Power Pump class at which point my stomach starts to get very angry
Pretty sure the discharge papers said I could "resume normal activity", guess it's a good thing I didn't go to spin instead
Best friend comes over with her two boys, who are happily entertained by the boyfriend, who, among other things: gave them two bottle of silly string that ended up all over a tree and the back porch (read: cement slab), make a bonfire and roast hot dogs, take a walk to the river and plan a fishing trip. Luckily my best friend and I did pretty much nothing but leisurly watch it all from the safety of our chairs.
Finish watching movie from Saturday night with the boyfriend
Cue intense and riducliously painful stomach cramps. Until 1am when I finally fall asleep.
Friday: Stomach cramps continue. After a few phone calls with the nurse/doctor/clinic it's decided I should probably just to go the ER.
Normally I would just let this slide and deal with it myself, but two pieces of my stomach/small bowel were just removed (ok albit SMALL pieces) and apparently stomache pain should NOT still be happening at this point.
Spend 2 hours in the ER to be told it's just the surgical gas stuck in my innards. Fun.
Go back to work for 45 minutes then race back to town to my second job, breaking untold amounts of traffic laws only to find that the person who was supposedly waiting for me to arrive with baited breath....is already gone.
Work until close. Which actually isn't that late.
Get home. No boyfriend.
Call cell phone, no answer.
Text, no response.
Call cell phone, nada.
Start to get worried.
I'm not saying he can't leave the house of his own accord, but typically I at least have some sort of idea about what's going on.
Start to get annoyed.
Call cell phone, leave message.
Get call back!
No, you did not tell me which friend's house you were at. No big deal, I'm just a stickler for info...much like the KGB.
Feel much better, but now lonely....and bored.
We canceled the digital cable.
We get channels 2-24.
Do you know what's on channels 2-24??
News
Simpsons
Becker
News
News
Weather
News
Try and work on computer - as now would be the perfect time to upload promised pictures on blog. Get frusterated because I can't listen to decent television in the computer room (I hate you channels 2-24!!) Get dramatic because I feel like nothing in the room is mine aside from the computer and the desk it's sitting on. Even though this isn't true, and also because I just have less stuff so you just don't see as much of it in general. Take Tramadol for stupid surgical gas stomach cramps and try to sleep (dramatically!) on the couch in front of Uptown Girls. (Shut it)
Boyfriend finds me, upon his arrival home, and correctly assumes I'm crabby and bored due to stupid no good TV channels. Luckily he brought home an awesome movie which we both managed to stay awak to watch. Yay us!
Saturday (July 4th): Comes to a crashing halt with a rather upsetting visit. We know we'll get around the this new situation (which isn't actually all that new for us), but, still, in light of the earlier part of our week...this just addds to the problems.
I suggest we go to the Farmers Market. Even when I realize it's spitting rain I never suggest we stay home. The sacrifices I make. They are intense.
Manage to get some awesome buffalo steaks practically for free (yay coupons!), discuss upcoming King of Pop's funeral with coffee shop owner, buy an amazing flower arrangement for $5.
Go home, and I realize I cannot continue living without some sort of food. Make eggs. Clean microvwave, stove, counters, and mop floors in kitchen, entryways, and bathroom.
Head upstairs to see what the boyfriend is up to, which I suspect is sleeping. Which is when I decide to take a break and, rather then upload pictures (because that would be silly!) I fall asleep too.
Finally get back up, finish cleaning, the boyfriend finds his way downstairs and makes up\s buffalo steaks, and we pretty much proceed to lounge around the rest of the day.
At no point did updating el bloggo seem like a good idea. Sorry!
Sunday: Back to work! Bright and early at 9am! Turns out it's not so bad when you have a fun co-worker.
Stop at the 'rent's afterwards to borrow the weed wacker since I've decided I cannot live one more minute staring at the weeds threatening to overtake the lawn.
Arrive home to find the boyfriend has been haaaaarrrddd at work mowing, weeding, planting tomato plants, transplanting other plants from our "ravine" to the side of the hosue and generally fixing stuff....color me shocked! And totally stoked!! We spend the rest of the day in a battle against the yard - and we totally win!
Monday: Day starts off ok until I realize I have a doctor's appointment (yes, once again!) Which puts the boyfriend in a condundrum since he wants to use the car but doesn't want to have to take me to the doctor's. In the end he decides using the car and dealing with my doctor's appointments are more beneficial.
Have panic attack when I realize I am leaving for Tennessee next week, I still have to plan a bridal shower with money I don't have and supplies I don't have since I returned most of them to pay for rent, still have another apartment to clean before the end of the month, the car is a junk heap on the inside, need OIL CHANGE....BREATH!!
The boyfriend picks me up at 2pm and tells me he finally was able to pick up the brand spankin' new electric guitar the music store was holding for him!
My neurologist actually doesn't yell at me or call me poor! Plus gives me medicine that might help my headaches AND my crazy panic attacks. Yay!!
Decide I really need to do at least one thing (finish cleaning old apartment, get oil change for car, clean car inside and out, get new bridal shower invites, get new bridal shower EVERYTHING, pay rest of the rent, BREATH) each night this week so I feel like I'm accomplishing something.
Even though we are poor I want to treat us to a decent meal, so Red Lobster it is! I even cheat and have some of their delicious bread! Oh bread how I've missed you!!!
Feeling full and happy, I know spending my gas money on food was still a good idea.
Arrive home and play with new electric guitar. This is probably the one instrument I've never played, and never had an opportunity to mess around with. And. It. Is. FANTASTIC!! I think I'm addicted.
Pry the guitar out of my own hands and load up to go clean the apartment. It's one dinky bathroom and some vacuuming. I'm pretty sure I can handle this.
Miss two calls from the boyfriend.
Call, no answer
Call, no answer
Text, no response
wait.
clean toilet
clean counter
clean mirror
Call, no answer.
Even though I KNOW everything is probably fine, I feel like I need to just go home and see what's up. I try and tell myself I'm being stupid but I just don't care. I also realize I can just say I forgot to grab the stainless steel cleaner.
Get home. The boyfriend is ok - one of his friends is having some problems though. We decide that he'll finish helping me clean the apartment then we'll deal with the friend.
On the way over, we discuss another friend, and the boyfriend decides to give him a call, only to find out some extremely bad news, at which point I know we're not going to be cleaning the bathroom, but will be going directly to the friend's house.
Arrive, with friend et al at ER around 9:30pm.
Leave ER around 1am.
I contimplate calling in to work for the morning, but realize that's probably not going to fly since I have enough of my own doctor's appointments I need to miss for.
That's that. I tried to make it as short as possible. I'm pretty sure I lost most of my 3 readers at this point anyway. If nothing else it was theraputic for me! So thanks!! I'm not so good at the short recaps - I'd try and get better but then I'd probably end up leaving out some curcial words and then it would look like a drunken monkey on crack typed this up rather than just dictating it to me.
The pictures - they are a commin. Not tonight (work until 10pm), maybe tomorrow? (although after kickboxing I think that the apartment MUST. BE. CLEANED.) Not Thursday (work again until 10pm) Potentially Friday (that might end up being bridal shower invitiation night tho), Potentially Saturday (assuming I don't go to the 2nd Job Summer Par-tay!)
I'll try and get it done before the big Tennessee trip at any rate!! :-)
* In case you just really have to know, or are confused because I did such a poor job the soaps are, in order: Guiding Light, Days of our Lives, All My Children, Bold and the Beautiful, One Life to Live
**Ahem!!** This is great because I don't even really have a post to get back to really, I mean at this point I could most likely just ramble on and on about soap operas, but I won't because I only watch Bold and the Beautiful and that's simply by default. Also? I'm bad with names, and this post would get very long, very quickly if I had to describe all the characters without names and with physical features only. In fact it's making me tired, and bored, and where was I going with any of this?
Sadly it's not even Monday anymore so I can't just write this whole thing off as a Monday occurrence which, obviously, everyone would understand. Nope - it's Tuesday so I'm supposed to be getting my shit together at this point right?
Right?
**tap** **tap**
**AHEM!!**
So let's see, I realized I promised some pictures, which, sadly, still have not happened. Not for lack of time really, more lack of motivation. Motivation and any sort of artistic inclination. Honestly, I was only out of it that one day, after that it was just sheer ennui that prevented me from doing anything else. That, and the list of crap I need to do that's quickly becoming extremely overwhelming, and where or where are those anxiety pills when you need 'em?? Clearly not here where they should be, keeping me breathing, and all the hair on my head and not in my clenched fists.
What's going on you may ask? A quick recap...as a side note I should warn you that this might sound a bit soap operaesque, you know, without all the evil twins and the resurrections and such, but still, if it didn't happen then this blog would be uber boring (or maybe just more uber boring) and I'd have to regal you with stories about kittens, or unicorns, or how keep getting this hangnail on my one finger that keeps turning into an infection and I wish that would just stop happening...and ANYWAY:
Wednesday: Have small bowel biopcey. Sleep for the rest of the day, except for the hour I was awake to make myself a sandwitch and take a couple of phone calls
Thursday: Have upsetting realization while talking to my financial advisor, but nothing that other people haven't already had to do, luckily it also means I don't get to work until 10am.
Manage to hit the gym for a Power Pump class at which point my stomach starts to get very angry
Pretty sure the discharge papers said I could "resume normal activity", guess it's a good thing I didn't go to spin instead
Best friend comes over with her two boys, who are happily entertained by the boyfriend, who, among other things: gave them two bottle of silly string that ended up all over a tree and the back porch (read: cement slab), make a bonfire and roast hot dogs, take a walk to the river and plan a fishing trip. Luckily my best friend and I did pretty much nothing but leisurly watch it all from the safety of our chairs.
Finish watching movie from Saturday night with the boyfriend
Cue intense and riducliously painful stomach cramps. Until 1am when I finally fall asleep.
Friday: Stomach cramps continue. After a few phone calls with the nurse/doctor/clinic it's decided I should probably just to go the ER.
Normally I would just let this slide and deal with it myself, but two pieces of my stomach/small bowel were just removed (ok albit SMALL pieces) and apparently stomache pain should NOT still be happening at this point.
Spend 2 hours in the ER to be told it's just the surgical gas stuck in my innards. Fun.
Go back to work for 45 minutes then race back to town to my second job, breaking untold amounts of traffic laws only to find that the person who was supposedly waiting for me to arrive with baited breath....is already gone.
Work until close. Which actually isn't that late.
Get home. No boyfriend.
Call cell phone, no answer.
Text, no response.
Call cell phone, nada.
Start to get worried.
I'm not saying he can't leave the house of his own accord, but typically I at least have some sort of idea about what's going on.
Start to get annoyed.
Call cell phone, leave message.
Get call back!
No, you did not tell me which friend's house you were at. No big deal, I'm just a stickler for info...much like the KGB.
Feel much better, but now lonely....and bored.
We canceled the digital cable.
We get channels 2-24.
Do you know what's on channels 2-24??
News
Simpsons
Becker
News
News
Weather
News
Try and work on computer - as now would be the perfect time to upload promised pictures on blog. Get frusterated because I can't listen to decent television in the computer room (I hate you channels 2-24!!) Get dramatic because I feel like nothing in the room is mine aside from the computer and the desk it's sitting on. Even though this isn't true, and also because I just have less stuff so you just don't see as much of it in general. Take Tramadol for stupid surgical gas stomach cramps and try to sleep (dramatically!) on the couch in front of Uptown Girls. (Shut it)
Boyfriend finds me, upon his arrival home, and correctly assumes I'm crabby and bored due to stupid no good TV channels. Luckily he brought home an awesome movie which we both managed to stay awak to watch. Yay us!
Saturday (July 4th): Comes to a crashing halt with a rather upsetting visit. We know we'll get around the this new situation (which isn't actually all that new for us), but, still, in light of the earlier part of our week...this just addds to the problems.
I suggest we go to the Farmers Market. Even when I realize it's spitting rain I never suggest we stay home. The sacrifices I make. They are intense.
Manage to get some awesome buffalo steaks practically for free (yay coupons!), discuss upcoming King of Pop's funeral with coffee shop owner, buy an amazing flower arrangement for $5.
Go home, and I realize I cannot continue living without some sort of food. Make eggs. Clean microvwave, stove, counters, and mop floors in kitchen, entryways, and bathroom.
Head upstairs to see what the boyfriend is up to, which I suspect is sleeping. Which is when I decide to take a break and, rather then upload pictures (because that would be silly!) I fall asleep too.
Finally get back up, finish cleaning, the boyfriend finds his way downstairs and makes up\s buffalo steaks, and we pretty much proceed to lounge around the rest of the day.
At no point did updating el bloggo seem like a good idea. Sorry!
Sunday: Back to work! Bright and early at 9am! Turns out it's not so bad when you have a fun co-worker.
Stop at the 'rent's afterwards to borrow the weed wacker since I've decided I cannot live one more minute staring at the weeds threatening to overtake the lawn.
Arrive home to find the boyfriend has been haaaaarrrddd at work mowing, weeding, planting tomato plants, transplanting other plants from our "ravine" to the side of the hosue and generally fixing stuff....color me shocked! And totally stoked!! We spend the rest of the day in a battle against the yard - and we totally win!
Monday: Day starts off ok until I realize I have a doctor's appointment (yes, once again!) Which puts the boyfriend in a condundrum since he wants to use the car but doesn't want to have to take me to the doctor's. In the end he decides using the car and dealing with my doctor's appointments are more beneficial.
Have panic attack when I realize I am leaving for Tennessee next week, I still have to plan a bridal shower with money I don't have and supplies I don't have since I returned most of them to pay for rent, still have another apartment to clean before the end of the month, the car is a junk heap on the inside, need OIL CHANGE....BREATH!!
The boyfriend picks me up at 2pm and tells me he finally was able to pick up the brand spankin' new electric guitar the music store was holding for him!
My neurologist actually doesn't yell at me or call me poor! Plus gives me medicine that might help my headaches AND my crazy panic attacks. Yay!!
Decide I really need to do at least one thing (finish cleaning old apartment, get oil change for car, clean car inside and out, get new bridal shower invites, get new bridal shower EVERYTHING, pay rest of the rent, BREATH) each night this week so I feel like I'm accomplishing something.
Even though we are poor I want to treat us to a decent meal, so Red Lobster it is! I even cheat and have some of their delicious bread! Oh bread how I've missed you!!!
Feeling full and happy, I know spending my gas money on food was still a good idea.
Arrive home and play with new electric guitar. This is probably the one instrument I've never played, and never had an opportunity to mess around with. And. It. Is. FANTASTIC!! I think I'm addicted.
Pry the guitar out of my own hands and load up to go clean the apartment. It's one dinky bathroom and some vacuuming. I'm pretty sure I can handle this.
Miss two calls from the boyfriend.
Call, no answer
Call, no answer
Text, no response
wait.
clean toilet
clean counter
clean mirror
Call, no answer.
Even though I KNOW everything is probably fine, I feel like I need to just go home and see what's up. I try and tell myself I'm being stupid but I just don't care. I also realize I can just say I forgot to grab the stainless steel cleaner.
Get home. The boyfriend is ok - one of his friends is having some problems though. We decide that he'll finish helping me clean the apartment then we'll deal with the friend.
On the way over, we discuss another friend, and the boyfriend decides to give him a call, only to find out some extremely bad news, at which point I know we're not going to be cleaning the bathroom, but will be going directly to the friend's house.
Arrive, with friend et al at ER around 9:30pm.
Leave ER around 1am.
I contimplate calling in to work for the morning, but realize that's probably not going to fly since I have enough of my own doctor's appointments I need to miss for.
That's that. I tried to make it as short as possible. I'm pretty sure I lost most of my 3 readers at this point anyway. If nothing else it was theraputic for me! So thanks!! I'm not so good at the short recaps - I'd try and get better but then I'd probably end up leaving out some curcial words and then it would look like a drunken monkey on crack typed this up rather than just dictating it to me.
The pictures - they are a commin. Not tonight (work until 10pm), maybe tomorrow? (although after kickboxing I think that the apartment MUST. BE. CLEANED.) Not Thursday (work again until 10pm) Potentially Friday (that might end up being bridal shower invitiation night tho), Potentially Saturday (assuming I don't go to the 2nd Job Summer Par-tay!)
I'll try and get it done before the big Tennessee trip at any rate!! :-)
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
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
