(And, apparently, rhyme.) To the person who came here searching for this information: 1) Sorry. I suspect you were disappointed in what you found. 2) I'm not sure I remember how. 3) Even if I do, I'm not giving lessons.
People. GEEZ. Get your minds out of the gutter, please. (Amy-Go, I AM LOOKING AT YOU.) I appreciate all of your fine suggestions and even the chuckles I gleaned from all the innuendo, but seriously. Y'all need to get out a bit more often. And if someone like ME is saying that to YOU, well, that's way beyond irony all the way over to ridiculous. Just sayin'. (More on that stuff in a bit. You were naughty and now you have to wait, while you think about what you did.) But first! Other things! Why, look! Here is a thing, now! Totally unrelated to the fact that I seem to have become infected with...
This is me, going to bed early the night before my surgery. Whoops! Well, I was going to go to bed early. Really I was. I have to get up at, um, 5, I think, so as to have proper time to shower and shave anywhere that may need to be shaved because in spite of them only working on my boob I will doubtless be forced to don a hospital gown and have all my whathaveyou out flapping in the breeze (and for such an occasion, I violate my "I shave my legs once a month in the winter whether they need it or not" rule) and then arrive at the hospital early enough to change into said gown and sit around...
I was chatting online with a friend last night and she started... I don't even know what to call it. Berating me or complimenting me--depending on your point of view--on the fact that I post every day, and generally long entries, at that. I think this was brought on by her own "I should post but I don't have anything to say and I don't want to but I feel like I should" issues, but regardless. This is a conversation I've had before. Every now and then someone points to my posting habits as if I've stumbled upon the golden ticket. It bothers me for two reasons. First, it bothers me to think...
I... have a confession to make. I'm embarrassed, and I beg you to please be gentle with me as I come clean. I sometimes (okay; OFTEN) browse my local Craig's List for entertainment. It didn't start out that way. Originally, I was just perusing for writing gigs. Then I started reading "Best Of" and before I knew it, I was mainlining the very hardest stuff they have to offer--Missed Connections and Men Seeking Women. Somehow I'm convinced that founder Craig Newmark knew that it would work that way. First he offers a giant gathering place for every moron on the internet, then he makes it just...
See how I just run the gamut, like that? It's a gift! Emotions just run thither and yon, more quickly than you can say, "Hey, where the heck IS 'yon,' anyway?" Hope: You may have read about it elsewhere, and as usual I'm a day late (and probably a dollar short, but here, have this penny I just found in the couch). Swiffer is hosting the Amazing Women of the Year contest and nominations are open through March 6th. I have "met" some incredible women in the blogosphere and I am certainly hoping for one of my favorites to make the finals. I read on another blog where someone was annoyed that the...
Y'all are so nice. And pretty! So pretty! Thank you for indulging my tantrum yesterday, for a tantrum is what it was. I'm better now. I mean, yes, WAH WAH WAH I DON'T LIKE THIS, it sucks to be told that something is wrong but they don't know what or how to fix it. But in the grand scheme of things, I should shut up already. Because, basically, there are three possibilities: 1) I have something awful and/or terminal, in which case I am wasting this period of blissful ignorance with worrying when I should be either shopping or eating chocolate. 2) I have something fairly run-of-the-mill and...
It is time to sell my daughter to the gypsies, for she has officially reached the age where her toys are too complicated for me to figure out. I consider myself a reasonably intelligent human; I hold several degrees; I have been tying my own shoes for years. I have been bested by a pony. Chickadee was relying on me to make all clear, and I spent an hour with the directions and the knitting needles uttering useful things like "well THAT can't be right" and "the hand in the picture is doing something that I'm pretty sure is impossible unless you have more than the usual number of fingers."...
I realized that I forgot to share one of my favorite moments from our latke party, yesterday, and then I thought, "Oh well." Was I just going to throw a single line up here as a blog post? I could, but it would seem self-indulgent and whatnot (as opposed to the REST of what I write here... ha!) so I was ready to let it go. But THEN I just got SO LUCKY. Because a few more things came to my attention and I thought HEY, I could put all of these things together and they would still be complete non-sequitors but I could pretend like they were related. And they are, in the sense that they're...