Back In The Bloglife Again

Standard

So I just spent a bit of time perusing some other blogs.  I snarked at the boring ones and the preachy ones, but I did manage to find a few that amused me.  As always, after reading another person’s blog, I began to critique my own.  Needless to say, I am one judgmental, heartless bitch–at least when it comes to my writing.  If only I could be as amusing as the bloggess, my life would totally be way less sucky!   I’d be all witty and awesome and such…instead of being marginally mediocre with a side of attempted humor.  I could relate my pointless tales in a manner that would draw in crowds of twitterpated followers.  As it is, I am fairly sure I have a grand total of two people who have read my blog.  To be fair, it is rather…well…pointless babbling.  But I do attempt to be somewhat entertaining!  I am definitely more amusing than  lots of other things out there.  Like nature documentaries showing hyenas slaughtering baby lions while their poor, blind mother tries desperately to intervene (the baby lions’ mother that is–not the hyenas’ mother. the hyenas’ mom would be all “make sure you share with your brothers”. So, just to clarify, the mother of the lion cubs tried to intervene and the mother of the hyenas was probably some crack-whore hyena or something who totally did Not attempt to intervene).  Or root canals!  Root canals totally suck ass.  Oh, and contracting some sort of flesh-eating bacteria–that would be a LOT less entertaining than reading my blog!  Although, on a positive note, the fewer people reading my blog, the more inappropriate and snarky I can be!

I wonder how a gal would go about finding freelance editing work?  Or maybe proofreading or something.  Anything involving reading and/or writing would be awesome.  Using my extremely expensive education, which I will never be able to pay off unless I win the lottery or write a best seller, would be awesome.  Not having to work retail would be indescribably, unbelievably, amazingly fan-frickin-tastic!  To never again be handed money soaked with boob sweat fished out of some big, rather unpleasantly aromatic, woman’s bra–that would be heaven!

I had no idea cats snored until I got Dart.  Now I know all too well.

 

The one and only D’Artanyn Bruno Bailey Wellingtom Bendryl Esq.  My 12 year old, 23.5 lb cat.  I know, I know.  I’m fairly sure he is the bastard offspring of Bigfoot and a very large alley cat.  But he’s cute!

Image

Out!

Downer Alert! Downer Alert! Proceed With Caution! (But The End Isn’t So Bad)

Standard

Why is it that some people are so willing to replace people in their lives?  Am I part of a dying breed of people who actually value people?  I have always tried to be a good person, a good friend.  I know I haven’t always succeeded, but I have tried.  I love my family and friends, even those who have openly or subtly discarded me.  My father is a whack-job who treated me abysmally for many years before cutting me completely out of his life.  His sister, my aunt, who had badmouthed him to my mother my entire childhood, proceeded to follow his lead and more or less disowned me.  I do not hate either of them, though I suppose maybe I should, and often wish I could.  I just can’t do it.  I do not posses the ability to write off the people I love and care for–even after they stop caring for me.  Apparently, my off-switch for feelings is broken.  I have had friends who hurt me without a second thought, and still I cannot bring myself to discard the friendship.  I wish I could be different, that I could force myself to stop caring.  Maybe then it wouldn’t hurt so much to realize just how disposable I am to people.  Maybe I wouldn’t feel so shattered every time someone drops me like trash on the roadside.  I’m not sure what is so horrible about me that so many people discard me without hesitation.  Even when I can see exactly what happened, I find it hard to understand.  How can someone just dismiss me once I have given all I have to give?  When I have done everything in my power to help them and be there for them?  As soon as someone better comes along, I am eagerly replaced.  I feel as though I have so few friends left and it makes me sad.  Luckily, I do have a lot of family left who love me, and my friends, few though they may be, are amazing people.  I am grateful for each and every one of these people every day.  As for anyone else, I guess I will just accept things as they are and try to deal with it.

Okay, enough of that whiny, miserable crap.  On to the awesomeness that is my discombobulated brain!

Daily randomosity: Say, hypothetically, you borrowed a few seasons of a show from a friend….and say you’d had them for a while…like a couple years–would it make you a bad person if you still hadn’t watched them after all that time?  Like, say you were finally going to return them because the show is on Netflix so now you can continue not watching without the guilty feelings currently connected to not watching it.  I mean, it’s not like you, I don’t know, let the DVDs get run over by, say, a bus or something–the DVDs are safe and sound….just unwatched.  Just wondering…I, of course, have done nothing like that.  Why does cooked pineapple taste so much yuckier than raw pineapple?  Who was the whack-a-doodle that looked at those creepy little anchovie fish things and thought–hey! I bet those would be ahh-mazing on pizza!  I mean seriously, who wants to look down at their pizza and see little eyeballs looking back up at them??  I don’t think I’d do very well on the show Chopped…if I did manage to actually cook something (hahahahaha), and they asked me to tell them about my dish, I’d totally be all like “Well, I put that nasty ostrich tenderloin thingy with some stuff I found in the pantry–not sure what it was but I think it was yellow or green. Then I poured that smelly creepy stuff in with some potato-type things, put it all in a pan and cooked it. I hope you don’t die.”  Why does spell check keep yelling at me?  Why can’t it just realize who it’s dealing with?  Like, maybe they could program it to learn to, basically, “read” its users?  Like, if Tom or someone is using it, it would be all “okay, sane-ish user….needs a bit of assistance but overall trainable”  Then, if I used it, it would be “well crap…it’s that nitwit that swears a lot and makes shit up whenever she feels like it. not even going to waste my time on this one.”  Brilliant!  Then it would stop pestering me for adding -ish to words or saying things like craptastic or ahh-mazing or hahahaha or whatever.  Geesh!  Argh!  What the hell???  Geesh and argh are totally legit!  Damn you spell check!

Image

Peace!

The Perils of the Internet and Other Blatherings

Standard

Image

Hello again from the land of mediocrity!  I apologize for failing to post yesterday.  I was being hypnotized by the evil internet.  Particularly Amazon and Etsy–they are evil tempters and must be stopped.  How’s a girl supposed to resist sites that dangle tantalizing awesomeness before her eyes?  Some of the things that occupied my time the last couple days include: zombie flip-flops, vintage 80’s toys such as nerfuls and sea wees and a speak and spell, ASL charms, zombie jewelry, hilarious tee-shirts, a child’s tee-shirt proclaiming “I rock these designer genes” that would be adorable for Chloe, a remote-controlled little zombie dude, book necklaces, a cuddly plush fat cat, zombie bedding and party supplies, book safes galore, ovarian cancer awareness stuff, etc etc etc. Seriously, these sites are dangerous!  You figure you’ll just take a gander at a couple things…the next thing you know, hours have passed and you’re deeply entrenched in pages of unnecessary yet oh-so-desirable doodads.  It’s just disgusting….and depressingly entertaining.

Daily randomosity:  If I had a wine glass stem sticking out of the bottom of my foot, I would be bellowing like a wounded moose.  If I was in a post-apocalyptic situation, and a fellow survivor happened to dislocate their shoulder or something like that, I would totally be all “you better just Mel Gibson that shit back in place yourself” because it’s just icky and I am so not touching that shit.  I think anyone dumb enough to think a tiger or a grizzly bear is their pet kinda deserves to get eaten.  It seems awfully ridiculous for people living in Australia to get all snarky when crocodiles start munching on folks there–I mean, hello!, you live in Australia-land of a zillion murderous beasties, duh.  It’s slightly disturbing how many times I have to tell spell check to add a word to its dictionary-it’s like it just doesn’t speak my language or something.  It’s really gross when a horse sweats a lot and they have the icky foamy sweat thing happening all over their sides and such-very nasty stuff.  I wish Dart’s vet visit hadn’t cost so much-I could really go for some Chinese food right now.  Image

Well, I am off to peruse Netflix now.

Laters!

Egads that’s a lot of money!

Standard

Okay, so today is payday.  Yay, right?  Not so much.  Had to take Dart to the vet to have them check his ubber icky eye issue.  Vet was super nice, gave me some meds to torture Dart with.  Then I had to pay the bill.  O. M. G.  I almost died when she told me it was $93.  I know there are folks out there who would find this not so shocking.  I, however, am poor.  Like, they should put me on t.v. and raise funds for me kind of poor.  Just kidding–about the fund raising bit, not the poor bit.  I’m definitely poor.  Anyway, $93 is way over half my paycheck (see! told you I’m poor!).  Don’t get me wrong though, Dart is worth it and such, just sucks to be parted from most of my paycheck in one swift blow.

Daily rondomosity: Who on earth came up with the recipe for peeps and cadbury eggs?  Who was the first person to check out a cow’s udders and think–dude! bet if we squeeze those things yummy stuff will come out!  How can I lose so much hair in my hairbrush everyday, and not be bald?  Was it the first of May that marked the start of toenails-must-be-painted time?  If I was an identical twin (horrifying thought, huh?), I would totally be able to see how my ass looked in different pairs of pants without having to try contorting myself to check it out in the mirror!  How does a grown woman claim her homely-ass doll is a real, live being, with thoughts and emotions and such, and not end up in the looney bin?

Well, guess I better go get ready to go to Angie’s owl party thing.  Even though, as I mentioned before, I’m poor and therefore cannot afford to purchase anything.  Siiiigh.

Laters!

Let’s try this again….

Standard

So….here I am….blogging once again.  I do still have a blog spot page but it hates me and will not let me log in.  Which led me to decide to give up and start a new blog.  Screw mean old blog spot.  I’m going to have a whole new blog, so there!  That’ll learn ’em!

Okay, so let’s do this then.  Just in case there is ever a reader that doesn’t know me very well, I feel it only fair to provide a little intro/disclaimer…

I am slightly unstable….like, not in a torture-small-animals kind of way, but more in a have-a-total-melt-down-over-apparently-insignificant-things kind of way.  Examples of situations that make me feel decidedly not warm and fuzzy: making decisions of any sort, large crowds, people I don’t know, staying at someone else’s house, using the bathroom at someone else’s house or using *shudder* public restrooms, looking at/seeing teeth, the idea of something happening to my possessions (fire, storms, etc), thinking about losing a loved one (we’re talking panic attack kinda reaction to the idea), leaving on trips, being left behind on trips, finding a movie or book out of place in my collections……well, you get the idea.  I also don’t really care for going out.  In fact, if I could, I would happily become one of those folks who never leave their house.  Living in my jammies while reading, writing, watching Netflix, and chillin’ with my cat–sounds like heaven to me!

I am also a tad….flighty.  My mind tends to wonder.  A lot.  For instance, I can be having a conversation with someone and, out of nowhere, my brain will completely ditch out on aforementioned conversation.  One minute I am raptly listening to the details of a friends ingrown toenail troubles, the next I am wondering how a person born without arms wipes their bahookey…or how extremely obese people–we’re talking rip a wall out to get them out of their house kind of obese–manage to reproduce…or why painted toenails don’t chip nearly as badly as painted fingernails…or why my jaw isn’t perfectly aligned and how would that be corrected…or why are there so many kinds of monkeys…or what kind of psychopath came up with algebra…or what happened to that Prairie shirt I had that matched Caron’s……again, you get the idea.

I have an atrociously awful memory.  I’m fairly certain that, if it gets any worse, I really could throw myself a surprise party.

I really don’t much care for people.  As a general rule that is.  Of course, there are some people I like very much.  It’s just that most people annoy me.  Customers that ask stupid questions, idiots that reproduce, drunks and druggies that insist on being in public, rude people, exceedingly loud people, gross people, stinky people, people who wear gallons of perfume, etc etc etc.  I once worked with a girl who, upon finding out my niece was born with Down Syndrome, informed me how thankful she was that her dad had always told her he would have drowned any kid of his born “retarded”.  I had a customer come through my line at work and pay her total with money soaked with boob-sweat that she dug out of her bra.  I worked with a girl who confessed to me that she couldn’t remember which coin was a dime and which was a nickle (she had reproduced).  I have had dozens of customers come through the check out at work absolutely reeking of alcohol and/or pot, leaving their noxious odors lingering long after their departure.  I had a boss who, even after I surreptitiously corrected the signs she posted again and again, misspelled fridge, insisting on spelling it frig.  People are icky and they pretty much suck.

I have physical ailments galore that annoy me daily.  Fibromyalgia sucks.  Allergies suck.  Acid reflux sucks.  Asthma sucks.  Having bad hips and knees sucks.  Heel spurs suck.  Toothaches suck.  Carpal tunnel sucks.  Back pain sucks.  That about sums it up.

I am a zombie fanatic.  I have a zombie collection that would make Romero and Kirkman proud.  Games, toys, figurines, a bank, books, movies, posters, pictures, make-up, coffee cups, an adorable dismemberable plushie, shirts, shot glasses, wallets, stickers–everything I can get my greedy lil’ paws on.  I’m even writing a zombie novel.

I read.  A lot.  A whole lot.  I read darn near anything–even a couple romances!  I also write.  Poetry, prose, creative non-fiction, fiction–whatever strikes my fancy.

I am hoping to blog every day or two…or three…whatever.  I’m fairly sure not many folks will be reading my ramblings, but it’s cool, I’m used to talking to myself 🙂

That’s it for now.  Peace out!