I hope you all enjoyed a prosperous and plentiful Druid Winter Solstice Light Festival. My gift to you all is the gift of blog, for it has been brought to my attention that I've been sucking something fierce at that. Now, in the holiday tradition of Amber at Airing My Dirty Laundry..., I give you validation.
Hey, it's okay...
...if you once bought unfrosted Pop-Tarts in an attempt to be "healthy."
...if, when you were 16 years old, you slept on the couch because you were convinced a tiny woodland creature was living in your headboard.
...to love Muppets.
...to hate puppets.
...if the highlights of your upcoming semester include a Spring Break trip to Seattle to see your brother, popping over to San Diego for a conference (and to frolic with SurferWife) and your dearest redheaded, Mormon tater tot, Lisa, returning to the U.S. from her mission in Finland.
...if you are damn near positive the scanner just growled at you.
...if you yelled a few choice phrases (such as "Butterfly nuggets!" and "Mrs. Clause's holiday wafers!") after dropping and shattering one of your parents' Christmas plates.
...if your dad walked past you and commented, "Your blog is old," to which you respectfully replied, "You are."
...if an adequate supply of doughnuts and cupcakes has become your most vital criteria for selecting a future city of semi-permanent residence.
...to not appreciate it when someone starts a sentence with, "I'm not complaining, but..." Yes, you are. Either own it or shut your hole.
...if Hoda Kotb taught you that you like Flo Rida.
...if you only got 4 hours of sleep last night because you couldn't stop wondering what the difference really is between grape, cherry and plum tomatoes.
...if the only reason you can pick Reggie Bush out of a lineup is thanks to Kim Kardashian.
...if you judged the hell out of the woman at the Chinese restaurant last night whom you overheard ask the waitress, "Do you have any ramen?"
...to love Harry Connick, Jr. so much, you wish you could buy him a fish sandwich.
...to have similar feelings for DVR.
Showing posts with label Surferwife. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Surferwife. Show all posts
Tuesday, December 28, 2010
Monday, September 27, 2010
Does your blog still find you attractive?
There appears to be somewhat of a writing epidemic sweeping the blogging nation.
I know many of you have been experiencing some serious blogging apathy lately, and I am not immune.
I can blame so many things if I'm feeling defiant. For example, my blogging disinterest could be due to...
...all the time I'm putting in at my internship site.
...the stress I'm experiencing due to general lack of finances.
...a low-fiber diet.
...not tonight, I have a headache.
Any and all of the previously mentioned excuses could be contributing factors.
However, as SurferWife was serenading my heart this evening, I realized that I'm coming up on my 2-year blogging anniversary.
That's it!
My blog is bored with me.
So, I've decided that my blog and I need to spice things up. We've become comfortable and complacent with each other and that's not good enough if we want to keep the magic alive.
I mean, we still love each other, but it's not exciting like it used to be. Blogging is no longer new and exciting. Mind you, it's still fun, but it's a very polite kind of fun. Now, it's never going to be like it was in the beginning, but that doesn't mean we just give up, damn it!
So, I'm putting in the effort, kids.
Tonight, my blog and I left Twitter and Facebook with a sitter, we put our phones on vibrate (We didn't turn them off, okay? That's just stupid.) and we got to know each other again.
Naturally, this included taking the blog out for a seafood dinner, getting it drunk, feeling it up in the Red Lobster parking lot for an hour and then letting it pass out in front of the TV to an Anne Murray special on the Hallmark Channel.
Now, I'm writing.
And you know what? It feels like the first time.
It feels like the very first time!
I know many of you have been experiencing some serious blogging apathy lately, and I am not immune.
I can blame so many things if I'm feeling defiant. For example, my blogging disinterest could be due to...
...all the time I'm putting in at my internship site.
...the stress I'm experiencing due to general lack of finances.
...a low-fiber diet.
...not tonight, I have a headache.
Any and all of the previously mentioned excuses could be contributing factors.
However, as SurferWife was serenading my heart this evening, I realized that I'm coming up on my 2-year blogging anniversary.
That's it!
My blog is bored with me.
So, I've decided that my blog and I need to spice things up. We've become comfortable and complacent with each other and that's not good enough if we want to keep the magic alive.
I mean, we still love each other, but it's not exciting like it used to be. Blogging is no longer new and exciting. Mind you, it's still fun, but it's a very polite kind of fun. Now, it's never going to be like it was in the beginning, but that doesn't mean we just give up, damn it!
So, I'm putting in the effort, kids.
Tonight, my blog and I left Twitter and Facebook with a sitter, we put our phones on vibrate (We didn't turn them off, okay? That's just stupid.) and we got to know each other again.
Naturally, this included taking the blog out for a seafood dinner, getting it drunk, feeling it up in the Red Lobster parking lot for an hour and then letting it pass out in front of the TV to an Anne Murray special on the Hallmark Channel.
Now, I'm writing.
And you know what? It feels like the first time.
It feels like the very first time!
Monday, August 16, 2010
Oh hey... from before.
I think I have successfully established that I like to move and have issues with longterm commitment.
I know that's not necessarily an attractive quality to a lot of people, but I'm oddly proud of it. Go fig.
Anyway, I've got one more year of grad school. Naturally, I'm already scouting out potential locations which I may call my future home.
I have already ruled out many places based on extensive research and several important, highly influential factors:
This has pretty much whittled me down to a few key places. Mind you, they're only general musings, but I do so love to muse.
In the South we have:
This is my attempt to be open-minded and give the South my best shot. Plus, I figure while I live down here, I may as well visit some of these places anyway. I already wanted to see Savannah and Charleston but then Salt and Allyson made them seem even fancier with their freaky churches and bedazzled penises.
In the North, we have:
As it turns out, there are a crap ton of bloggers living in Southern California (I refuse to call it SoCal) and I would love to meet so many of them/you. One of whom is my beloved blogsbian, SurferWife. I have already frightened her plenty with the prospect of showing up on her front doorstep with a sleeping bag in one hand and our love fern in the other. She pretends she's cool with it, but I think she's already changed the locks and hidden the hummus.
Over the next 12 months, my plan is to use a substantial amount of my financial aid money to gallavant across the country and visit as many of these places as possible. Besides, how often to I get the opportunity to gallavant? Not as often as you'd think.
However, I do frolic like a champ.
I know that's not necessarily an attractive quality to a lot of people, but I'm oddly proud of it. Go fig.
Anyway, I've got one more year of grad school. Naturally, I'm already scouting out potential locations which I may call my future home.
I have already ruled out many places based on extensive research and several important, highly influential factors:
- St. Louis - I hate the Cardinals.
- Atlanta, Chicago and DC - My road rage needs no further provocation.
- Hawaii - I really don't like coconut.
- Kentucky - Do I really need to get into that again?
- The American Southwest - Raise your hand if you think this is a good idea. I dare you.
This has pretty much whittled me down to a few key places. Mind you, they're only general musings, but I do so love to muse.
In the South we have:
- Wilmington, NC - They have a beach.
- Savannah - They have a beach.
- Charleston, SC - They have a beach.
- Austin - For funsies
This is my attempt to be open-minded and give the South my best shot. Plus, I figure while I live down here, I may as well visit some of these places anyway. I already wanted to see Savannah and Charleston but then Salt and Allyson made them seem even fancier with their freaky churches and bedazzled penises.
In the North, we have:
- Boston - Awesome accents and baseball fanaticism
- Ann Arbor, MI - I'd finally get to live in a mitten!
- Toronto, ON - If the Winter Olympics opening ceremony didn't make you want to be at least a little Canadian, then I don't know how to help you.
- Seattle - My brother lives there. And so does coffee.
- San Diego - Weather, bloggers and a bitchin' zoo
As it turns out, there are a crap ton of bloggers living in Southern California (I refuse to call it SoCal) and I would love to meet so many of them/you. One of whom is my beloved blogsbian, SurferWife. I have already frightened her plenty with the prospect of showing up on her front doorstep with a sleeping bag in one hand and our love fern in the other. She pretends she's cool with it, but I think she's already changed the locks and hidden the hummus.
Over the next 12 months, my plan is to use a substantial amount of my financial aid money to gallavant across the country and visit as many of these places as possible. Besides, how often to I get the opportunity to gallavant? Not as often as you'd think.
However, I do frolic like a champ.
Monday, May 31, 2010
Man, prepare thyself III
Dear Future Mister,
Let's get something straight right now.
I do not need to be fixed. I am, of course, my own personal brand of crazy, but this does not mean I need you to solve or repair me in any way, okay?
This does NOT mean, however, that I don't want you to fix other things.
Leaky faucet? A/C run amok? Timing belt in the car needs to be replaced (yeah, you heard me)?
Have at it, and please don't let me get in your way!
Now, when it comes to dancing, can you be all or nothing? I'd love you to either be on the dance floor, channeling the essence of freaking Fred Astaire, or to stand in the corner with your beer and talk to the other rhythmically challenged guys about football and bodily functions. I say this because few things are worse than a guy who can't dance but has no idea.
Occasionally, I experience some super intense sensory overload. While this isn't an actual condition per se, I flip my biscuit a little. When seven people are talking to me at once and my phone is ringing and my bag is falling off my shoulder and all the papers in my hands are out of order and I haven't eaten in hours, my sauce is no longer normal.
What I'm saying is that I tend to tweak a little in these situations. This does not mean I can't handle stress or keep my cool in extraordinary circumstances. This means that when you see me starting to short-circuit like this, I need you to shove a taco in my mouth with one hand while answering my phone with your other hand and take my bag with your other hand and hold off the vultures with your other hand.
Which reminds me - could you grow two more arms?
Now, here is my gift to you:
Once a week, I want you to go away. Hang out with your buddies, go to your fantasy football meetings or just sit on someone else's couch for a few hours. I'm planning on loving you and even liking you, but if I know myself, I will want you to piss off every now and again.
You're welcome.
Now, go have some fun, you crazy scamp! Oh, and if you need a refresher on some of my previous thoughts, go here and then here.
Pleasant day to you.
*This post is dedicated to the love I share with my blogging lesbian lover, Surferwife. Even if I do meet Astronaut Mike Dexter some day, I shan't stop loving you, or your blog.
In the name of mojitos and nachos,
Amen.
Let's get something straight right now.
I do not need to be fixed. I am, of course, my own personal brand of crazy, but this does not mean I need you to solve or repair me in any way, okay?
This does NOT mean, however, that I don't want you to fix other things.
Leaky faucet? A/C run amok? Timing belt in the car needs to be replaced (yeah, you heard me)?
Have at it, and please don't let me get in your way!
Now, when it comes to dancing, can you be all or nothing? I'd love you to either be on the dance floor, channeling the essence of freaking Fred Astaire, or to stand in the corner with your beer and talk to the other rhythmically challenged guys about football and bodily functions. I say this because few things are worse than a guy who can't dance but has no idea.
Occasionally, I experience some super intense sensory overload. While this isn't an actual condition per se, I flip my biscuit a little. When seven people are talking to me at once and my phone is ringing and my bag is falling off my shoulder and all the papers in my hands are out of order and I haven't eaten in hours, my sauce is no longer normal.
What I'm saying is that I tend to tweak a little in these situations. This does not mean I can't handle stress or keep my cool in extraordinary circumstances. This means that when you see me starting to short-circuit like this, I need you to shove a taco in my mouth with one hand while answering my phone with your other hand and take my bag with your other hand and hold off the vultures with your other hand.
Which reminds me - could you grow two more arms?
Now, here is my gift to you:
Once a week, I want you to go away. Hang out with your buddies, go to your fantasy football meetings or just sit on someone else's couch for a few hours. I'm planning on loving you and even liking you, but if I know myself, I will want you to piss off every now and again.
You're welcome.
Now, go have some fun, you crazy scamp! Oh, and if you need a refresher on some of my previous thoughts, go here and then here.
Pleasant day to you.
*This post is dedicated to the love I share with my blogging lesbian lover, Surferwife. Even if I do meet Astronaut Mike Dexter some day, I shan't stop loving you, or your blog.
In the name of mojitos and nachos,
Amen.
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