Category Archives: am i the only one who thinks this is funny?
Reflecting on 2009
2010 is in less than 13 hours. HOLY SHIT Y’ALL!
Wow! This year has totally flown by. It really does seem like we were just at the beginning of 2009. But a lot has happened this year too. I started thinking about everything and came up with a pretty good list of major events(good AND bad) from 2009:
And with all of that going on, I finally began to find my voice. It took a while, and it’s absolutely a work in progress, but it’s been a lot of fun so far. I look forward to see where the journey leads in 2010.
I wish all of you a safe and Happy New Year! I sincerely hope that 2010 brings you lots of joy! Bottoms up!
All my love,
Fifi saved me from another possbly embarrassing situation.
Husband: Why is the TV screen all slobbery and gross?
Me: Umm…..I dunno. I can tell you what it WASN’T from. It was NOT from me making out with Tom Selleck last night.
Husband: Huh?
Me: Cuz that totally didn’t happen. It must have been the dog.
Husband: What dog? We don’t have a dog.
Me: WTF? What do you mean we don’t have a dog? How could you forget Fifi?
Husband: Fifi?
Me: Yes, Fifi! Our little cockapoo? The one that bit you on the leg last week?
Husband: YOU bit me on the leg last week.
Me: Nooooo. I was pulling Fifi OFF you. She was upset cuz you were ignoring her. I was trying to protect you. Your welcome.
Husband: We do NOT have a dog.
Me: HOW CAN YOU SAY THAT? It’s bad enough that you ignore her. Now you’re just being cruel.
Husband: *sigh*
Me: Shhhh! Magnum PI is coming on.
Now that I think about it, I’m not sure if any of that really happened. Except maybe the part about the TV screen being all slobbery and gross. Cuz I don’t need yet another restraining order.
What? You think Tom Selleck would make out with me in real life?
Yeah, me too.
Wordless Wednesday
Now if only I could remember what I did with the disk…..
Hell really has frozen over and I can prove it.
Theorem – Hell has frozen over.
Proof – According to Miriam-Webster’s Dictionary, one of the definitions of hell is:
2 a : a place or state of misery, torment, or wickedness.
Misery.
Torment.
Wouldn’t living in a state I loathe for the past 7 years (7 YEARS? WTF?), dealing with the end of my marriage, and getting laid off from my job in two months qualify for being in a state of misery and/or torment? Yeah, I think so too. *snort* (I promise you there’s more to that list, but then we totally go off-topic and skirt the realm of TMI, so it’s best for me to just keep those to myself.)
Therefore, I am in hell.
And since this is what it looks like today:
We can conclude that hell has truly frozen over.
Purge, purge again, and just when you think you’re done, purge some more.
I wouldn’t consider myself a pack rat. Now. When I was younger, though, I started to come pretty darn close. I kept EVERYTHING.
You, know how it is. You keep every little thing because you just KNOW that someday you will need it or be able to use it.
You need more space to store every little thing you keep because you just KNOW that someday you will need it or be able to use it.
You need a bigger home to get more space to store every little thing you keep because you just KNOW that someday you will need it or be able to use it.
You need more money to pay for the bigger home to get more space to store every little thing you keep because you just KNOW that someday you will need it or be able to use it.
Etcetera, etcetera, etcetera. (There was an old lady who swallowed a fly. I don’t know why she swalloed the fly. Perhaps she’ll die.) I guess you could say the things I have kept are my fly.
Moving has always offered an opportunity to get rid of some stuff. Why pack it when you can purge it, right? Right. But no matter how much I get rid of, I think I only get through the surface and maybe 2-3 underlying layers. Tops.
And then I just start amassing NEW stuff. Such a vicous cycle.
Well, I’m getting closer to breaking the cycle. The downfall of my marriage, my impending “over the hill” status, and getting thrown out on my collective career-ass, just to name a few, have me thinking of ways to simplify my life. FAST.
I’m starting with closing my MK business. Honestly, it’s time. I’ve been trying to decide what to do with it ever since I started, but never actually DOING anything with it. On any level. I just don’t see that getting any better in the near future, so I’m kickin’ it to the curb for now.
Another purge category that is long overdue is my craft items. For years, I was a psychotic craft shopper. Let me clarify something, though. SHOPPING does not imply CREATING. I had ideas of really cool craft projects out the wazoo! Sadly, the ideas never quite panned out or didn’t look as good in real life as they did in my head. Man, everything looks/sounds/feels/is SO much better in my head. Maybe I should just go live there!
The last on my list right now are my collectibles. The Bradford Edition plates that hung on a wall for a mere year out of the decade and a half that I have had them. Oh, and my Cherished Teddies. What the HELL was I thinking? Sure, they are freakin cute as hell, and did manage to be on display in my house(s) for a little longer than the plates. But ever since the hostage crisis began (I really do need to explain that sometime, don’t I?), they have been nothing more than garage dust collectors. I don’t really think that was the artist’s intention and it certainly wasn’t mine either.
eBay/Craigslist/KSL.com and the like are prolly gonna become my temporary best friends here soon. And hopefully things get a little (or a lot) simpler in my life. Think I can sell the husband? Cuz that would REALLY simplify my life lemme tell ya.
So, I’m curious who else out there is a closet pack rat? Come purge with me peeps! You know you want to.
Gigglesnort of the week
I totally have dain bramage, but it’s not from playing foot-bawl without my hehmet and my showdah-mah-pads.
Thanks Tanya for this blast from the past.
The flashback that made me want to get physical.
nd here’s where I let on to just how old I might be…..
I absolutely heart me some ’80s music. Love it. In fact, if I’m in need of something to help keep me motivated on a task, you will either find me listening to music from the ’80s or disco. No…that is NOT a typo. (Remember that age thing I mentioned at the beginning of this post? Well…there you go.)
Sidenote: As far as I’m concerned, disco will NEVER be dead. You can’t shake your ass to anything else like you can to disco. And don’t think I don’t know that you do it too. In your home. When nobody’s watching (at least so you think). You put on Donna Summer’s Last Dance and boogie down. Until you hear someone nearby and you run to switch it to Metallica and start headbanging. Cuz that’ll totally throw them off the trail of what you were REALLY doing in there. You can admit it now. We all know. DON’T WE.
My most recent ’80s flashback had me searching for the video to Olivia Newton-John’s Physical. I found what I was looking for and much more. I got two flashbacks for the price of one. (Then again since it didn’t cost me anything, it was actually two flashbacks for the price of none. But I digress yet again.)
Remember Solid Gold? (Cue the “ooooo”s and “ahhhh”s here.)
That weekly music countdown show that was only just a small step up from American Bandstand. Where lip synching songs was the ONLY option and was paired with a bunch of HAWT dancers in spandex (Spandex? In the ’80s? NAH!). I vaguely seem to remember having a HUGE crush on one of the male dancers. Couldn’t tell you which one, though.
That’s just some awesome shit right there. She never made a mistake. Her performance was flawless. She never had to take a break in the middle of the song bcuz she was out of breath from her dancing workout (or those steamy hunks dancing with her *fanning self*). And I have absolutely NO idea how my simple little ’80s song flashback morphed into poking fun at Solid Gold. I loved that show growing up.
Spooky Six Word Saturday? Perhaps not.
I’ve missed that past few SWS (so sad) and my six words today are not spooky (well, I guess they could be depending on how you look at them LOL), but here they are:
Getting a spider put on your fingernail is a bad idea. Cuz you’ll probably die. Or go to prison. Where you’ll die. Or become someone’s bitch.
Basically, nothing good can come of it, so just don’t do it.
I have acrylic nails. I have had them forever and I maintain them RELIGIOUSLY. I really don’t have a choice. I have to keep them up. If I don’t, I will have no nails. None. Cuz I’m a nail biter. No, you don’t understand. I’m a BAD nail biter (or would that be a good one?). I’ve been one as long as I can remember. I even think I remember my mom saying once that I came out of the womb with no nails. Which means I probably had it from conception. I totally blame my mom. And she is a former biter too, which supports my case. Thanks so much for the genetic defect MOM!
I go in last Saturday for a backfill, like clockwork. The nail place I go to has a HUGE display table full of examples. Anything & pretty much everything you can think of, they’ve got. Plus they rotate in some seasonal examples cuz they’re greedy mothers cuz it’s just good business. I head over to the display table looking for something Halloweeny (WTF is wrong with me? Halloweeny?). But anything I remotely give a second glance to is like an additional $30+. I don’t THINK so. Then my nail tech comes over to ‘help’ and I know I’m in trouble. Actually, ‘in trouble’ doesn’t really cut it. I’m screwed. I just can’t say no to her. So, I let her talk me into getting a spider on one of my nails. Great. Just great.
She gets the backfill done first just like normal. Then it’s time for the spider. She puts a big glob of black acrylic goo in the middle of my nail. I just KNOW that there’s an egg sac in there that’s just waiting for Halloween night to bust open and take me as a human sacrifice. But how do I tell her NOOOOO! I’m not ready to die yet! without coming across as rude? I just can’t do it. I just can’t tell her that her idea scares the living shit outta me. So I suffer in silence. And while the end result is quite attractive and season appropriate, it does nothing to calm the horrific fears I have of what is to come on Halloween.
And since then…..
I have to hide that fingernail. I have noticed the spider eyeing people around me looking for more potential victims. YIKES! I can’t let that happen! I’d go to prison for murder cuz who in their right mind would believe that a spider on my nail killed people? Plus, I would not make a good inmate. I would completely freak out. Which would leave me a prime candidate to get a shiv in the prison yard. Yep, I’m that girl. Or another inmate would corner me in the shower and make me her bitch. Neither of those are good options for me.
Also, everytime I catch the spider out of the corner of my eye, I freak out screaming, “Spider! OMG! A SPIDER!” Then I grab my stapler and start banging my hand with it yelling, “Kill it! Kill it! KILL IT!” And then my biting habit kicks in, but I CAN’T GET IT OFF!
So now my hand is a sick combination of black/blue/purple/yellow and that finger is all shredded and bloody. It’s pretty much completely useless. Which is why it took me a week to write this post. And my job is in danger of ending even earlier. I keep getting written up for being a disruption in the office. But then again, my job will be over when I get arrested for murder anyway.
Can anyone recommend a lawyer? I’m gonna need a good one to keep me from going to prison. And then I think I’m gonna sue my nail technician. It’s all her fault. Better yet, I’ll sic my spider on her. Yeah, that would work.