So, I’ve got this blog here. Where I’m supposed to ramble on about random things that entertain me or that I think might entertain you. But you see, I’ve got nothing. I’m in a weird funk right now and have absolutely nothing whatsoever to say. It is quite bizarre, as I sorta pride myself on being able to ramble on and on even when I having nothing at all to say. In fact, some might argue that I got an entire book deal out of my rambling abilities.
But I got nothing. I’m trying, I really am. I am trying to make note of anything funny or random that happens during the day, trying to gather blog-worthy stories. But I am just drawing a complete blank. I even got a damn puppy. And he’s not giving me anything. Except the desire to see how far one can throw damn puppies.
I’ve watched roughly 1000 hours of TV, 250 movies and played 30,000 online games. (I believe the latter is an attempt to prove that, although I’m a Soduko idiot, I am capable of winning other games). Work is work, friends are friends, family is family. But none of it is very entertaining. I am working almost exclusively from home now, which might be part of the problem. I don’t see a lot of the outside world. At least not as much as normal people see. What I see a lot of is a peeing dog. That does not a blog make.
So I am reaching out to you dear readers. Give me something to write about. Anything will do. Maybe a question. Maybe a topic. Maybe you just write something for me and I pretend I wrote it. Kay?
Thursday, May 31, 2007
Friday, May 25, 2007
Nola
So. I really like the name Nola. But here’s the thing. When you are training a new dog you tend to use the word “NO!” quite a bit. So then it’s not so good when the dog’s NAME has the word “No” in it. I think it’s confusing. Because in his little pee brain I’m just the lady that says “No” quite a bit. Sometimes nicer than others. Hmmm.
My young cousin has a pomeranian, Joey. Nola and Joey will be spending a lot of time together, so we thought maybe we could come up with a name that goes with Joey. We thought either Ross or Chandler might be cute. I tried out Ross, but I just don’t think he looks like a Ross. So then I tried out Chandler and he actually kinda looks like a Chandler. But I don’t look like someone that actually names her dog after a character in a sitcom. I just can’t. I can’t go from Nola, which is in memory and honor of a fallen city, to Chandler, the guy who has transvestite father. It lacks a little heart, you see.
So we are sticking with Nola and going to see how it goes. Who knows. I don’t actually have the occasion to say the dog’s name very often, so I need to change that habit I think, cause how else is he supposed to learn his name? How exactly do things learn their names? Do I put a nametag on him? Maybe buy him a keychain with his name? I dunno. I do know that a dog who is afraid of stairs has more important problems than identity.
My young cousin has a pomeranian, Joey. Nola and Joey will be spending a lot of time together, so we thought maybe we could come up with a name that goes with Joey. We thought either Ross or Chandler might be cute. I tried out Ross, but I just don’t think he looks like a Ross. So then I tried out Chandler and he actually kinda looks like a Chandler. But I don’t look like someone that actually names her dog after a character in a sitcom. I just can’t. I can’t go from Nola, which is in memory and honor of a fallen city, to Chandler, the guy who has transvestite father. It lacks a little heart, you see.
So we are sticking with Nola and going to see how it goes. Who knows. I don’t actually have the occasion to say the dog’s name very often, so I need to change that habit I think, cause how else is he supposed to learn his name? How exactly do things learn their names? Do I put a nametag on him? Maybe buy him a keychain with his name? I dunno. I do know that a dog who is afraid of stairs has more important problems than identity.
Wednesday, May 23, 2007
Quiet
I’ve been a bit quiet lately. I don’t know why really. I just don’t have anything worthwhile to say. I seem to be in a bit of a funk. I was hoping to snap myself out of it by now, but it’s not going so well. I’m trying my hardest not to jump right back into a huge project, but I am going a little insane with so much downtime.
So what do normal people do when they are a little bored?
Get a new hobby? Maybe take up jogging?
Hobbies and jogging are overrated, if you ask me. So instead I got this:
Seriously how cute is this dog? So cute.
I’ve been wanting a dog for a few years and the timing was never right. I was traveling too much or not home enough. But I plan on being homebound for awhile and I thought it was a good time to bring a dog into the mix. I’ve been looking for one for a few weeks, keeping my eye out on Craigslist and Petfinder. I found this little guy on Craigslist. Of course. Because pretty much everything good in life can be found on Craigslist, I’m convinced. I’ve gotten jobs, a bike, an agent and now a dog.
I’m not really sure what his name is going to be, I think I’ve decided to go with Nola and name him after my favorite city. I know it’s kinda a girlie name, but I think he can handle it.
So far he is doing pretty well. I took him over to my parents’ house this evening so that they could meet the closest thing they are going to have to a grandkid for a little while. They were not supportive of my getting a dog. Perhaps because of the fact that I’ve never had an animal and can’t really even be counted on to feed myself every day, let alone a dog. My mom said, “I don’t want to see that thing, and don’t think for a second we are going to watch it all the time.”
Cut to tonight: “Oh, no. He’s cuuuuute.” Cut to an hour later: They are both on the floor playing with him. Ha. Suckers.
He came from a house that had a lot of other dogs and a lot of commotion. I’m hoping he doesn’t get too bored here with just me. He seems to be doing alright. Well, except for his unnatural fear of the stairs. I went down the stairs and tried to get him to follow me. That didn’t happen so much. He backed away and barked at the stairs as if he not only was he not going down them but he’d like to warn me not to go either. So I’m having to carry him up and down the stairs when I take him out to pee. And when I take him out to pee? It is without a leash. Cause, he is not too fond of those either. I don’t think he’s ever been walked, so he really has no idea what to do when I put that leash on him. So far he’s REALLY good at the healing. And the sit and stay. Gonna make for some interesting walks.
Anywho, that’s about it for today.
Oh, one last thing. Yesterday I went and signed up for the bone marrow donor registration list. They were running some promotion this month in honor of mother’s day, and it was free to sign up. Usually it costs $50 or so to sign up. I've been meaning to go and the promotion was over yesterday at 4:30. So I pulled up at 4:28 and added myself to the list. Anywho, they do these random donor drives throughout the year and throughout the country. You can get info at http://www.marrow.org/. If there is a drive near you you should go and do it. They just swab the side of your mouth and that’s it, you are in the registry. The odds of being matched are very slim, but they may be just the odds somebody needs to survive. So check it out if you have the chance.
Okay, off to escort the dog down the scary stairs, I hope we make it.
So what do normal people do when they are a little bored?
Get a new hobby? Maybe take up jogging?
Hobbies and jogging are overrated, if you ask me. So instead I got this:
Seriously how cute is this dog? So cute.I’ve been wanting a dog for a few years and the timing was never right. I was traveling too much or not home enough. But I plan on being homebound for awhile and I thought it was a good time to bring a dog into the mix. I’ve been looking for one for a few weeks, keeping my eye out on Craigslist and Petfinder. I found this little guy on Craigslist. Of course. Because pretty much everything good in life can be found on Craigslist, I’m convinced. I’ve gotten jobs, a bike, an agent and now a dog.
I’m not really sure what his name is going to be, I think I’ve decided to go with Nola and name him after my favorite city. I know it’s kinda a girlie name, but I think he can handle it.
So far he is doing pretty well. I took him over to my parents’ house this evening so that they could meet the closest thing they are going to have to a grandkid for a little while. They were not supportive of my getting a dog. Perhaps because of the fact that I’ve never had an animal and can’t really even be counted on to feed myself every day, let alone a dog. My mom said, “I don’t want to see that thing, and don’t think for a second we are going to watch it all the time.”
Cut to tonight: “Oh, no. He’s cuuuuute.” Cut to an hour later: They are both on the floor playing with him. Ha. Suckers.
He came from a house that had a lot of other dogs and a lot of commotion. I’m hoping he doesn’t get too bored here with just me. He seems to be doing alright. Well, except for his unnatural fear of the stairs. I went down the stairs and tried to get him to follow me. That didn’t happen so much. He backed away and barked at the stairs as if he not only was he not going down them but he’d like to warn me not to go either. So I’m having to carry him up and down the stairs when I take him out to pee. And when I take him out to pee? It is without a leash. Cause, he is not too fond of those either. I don’t think he’s ever been walked, so he really has no idea what to do when I put that leash on him. So far he’s REALLY good at the healing. And the sit and stay. Gonna make for some interesting walks.
Anywho, that’s about it for today.
Oh, one last thing. Yesterday I went and signed up for the bone marrow donor registration list. They were running some promotion this month in honor of mother’s day, and it was free to sign up. Usually it costs $50 or so to sign up. I've been meaning to go and the promotion was over yesterday at 4:30. So I pulled up at 4:28 and added myself to the list. Anywho, they do these random donor drives throughout the year and throughout the country. You can get info at http://www.marrow.org/. If there is a drive near you you should go and do it. They just swab the side of your mouth and that’s it, you are in the registry. The odds of being matched are very slim, but they may be just the odds somebody needs to survive. So check it out if you have the chance.
Okay, off to escort the dog down the scary stairs, I hope we make it.
Thursday, May 17, 2007
Tuesday, May 15, 2007
I Am Lame
A couple people requested a picture of the fine gift I gave my mother on Mother’s Day. Shockingly enough, I hadn’t remembered to take a picture of this gift. I think I didn’t really want any proof of such a horrible present.
But here it is.
It really is horrible. I mean, it’s even more horrible than I expected it would be. Can I just tell you people who have kids that maybe perhaps your kids aren’t terrible artists, maybe perhaps the materials they are left to create with are subpar. Cause, I’m not saying that I’m Jackson Pollock here (wrong analogy, frankly, because we are all Jackson Pollock, because we all have the ability to splatter paint on a wall) but I am literally supported financially in this life by my creativity and artistic abilities and this is all I could come up with.
That is sad. So sad, in fact, that I actually painted over the whole thing and started over at one point, because I couldn’t bear how horrible this completely ridiculous joke of a gift was looking. That’s how bad it was.
Now granted, most of my work is done on the computer, and therefore this whole cement thing is a bit of a new medium for me. But still. This looks like a blind 2 year old made it (a blind two year old with abnormally large hands). It wasn’t till after I was done that I realized that I picked Christmas colors. But it was also at that point that I realized I had just spent 30 minutes painting cement. So it came to be at that point that I gave up on this looking even sorta good.
I really feel like I should defend my artistic abilities by posting some of the non-cement work I’ve done over the years.
See, I am able to use artistic things to make things look at least halfway decent.
And another thing.
Since we are talking about my incompetence, I need to admit something here. It has taken me a long time to admit this, but I feel it is finally the moment to own up to my faults.
I can’t Sudoku.
I just can’t. Anything more than the easy Sudoku and I’m out. It’s frustrating in a way that I can’t really explain to you people. I’m really good with numbers and strategy and figuring out how things are done and then getting really good at them. Like cards for instance. Give me a card game and a little time and I’ll get really good at it. See, cause things like cards and puzzles and SUDOKU have things that you need to know, ways to master the game, strategies and shortcuts. And once you figure those things out then you can hone those tricks and skills and get really good.
Except I can’t with Sudoku. I just can’t. A friend of mine had a book of Sodoku puzzles on a trip we took a year ago. During one of our flights I got hooked on trying to figure them out. I knew that my mom is also puzzle-crazy, so I bought her a book and said, “Now, I’m giving you this because I think you’ll like it, but I am warning you, it could become an obsession. Don’t pick it up unless you are ready for the obsession.” She did one of those nose snort/eye roll things that you apparently do 1) when you are a teenager and 2) when your child is grown and you need to continually remind them that they are idiots.
Fast-forward a year. The woman has gone on her computer and made up little blank Sudoku spreadsheets and prints them up in bulk. Because the Sudoku puzzles in the book are too small and she needs a scratch paper to work out the puzzles as she is doing them. I don’t know if I’ve had a conversation in the living room with my mother the past year where I haven’t been looking at the top of her head while she Sudoku’s away during our conversation.
But good thing she didn’t get obsessed. (Insert nose-snort/eye roll.)
The reason the obsession bothers me so much is that I CAN’T DO THE DAMN PUZZLES MYSELF!!!!! I try. I do. My mother even took time the other day with me and tried to explain the keys to Sudoku victory. After each number placed in its blank square she would look at me with hope in her eyes. As if that one number might have triggered something in my brain and brought with it a flood of Sudoku understanding and knowledge. It would break my heart every time when I had to simply bow my head shake it back and forth.
So basically I can’t paint cement and I can’t do simple number puzzles. My mother is probably bowing her own head right now, shaking it back and forth. She doesn’t even need to nose snort/ eye roll on this one to convince me I’m an idiot.
Where did she go wrong?
But here it is.
It really is horrible. I mean, it’s even more horrible than I expected it would be. Can I just tell you people who have kids that maybe perhaps your kids aren’t terrible artists, maybe perhaps the materials they are left to create with are subpar. Cause, I’m not saying that I’m Jackson Pollock here (wrong analogy, frankly, because we are all Jackson Pollock, because we all have the ability to splatter paint on a wall) but I am literally supported financially in this life by my creativity and artistic abilities and this is all I could come up with.
That is sad. So sad, in fact, that I actually painted over the whole thing and started over at one point, because I couldn’t bear how horrible this completely ridiculous joke of a gift was looking. That’s how bad it was.Now granted, most of my work is done on the computer, and therefore this whole cement thing is a bit of a new medium for me. But still. This looks like a blind 2 year old made it (a blind two year old with abnormally large hands). It wasn’t till after I was done that I realized that I picked Christmas colors. But it was also at that point that I realized I had just spent 30 minutes painting cement. So it came to be at that point that I gave up on this looking even sorta good.
I really feel like I should defend my artistic abilities by posting some of the non-cement work I’ve done over the years.
See, I am able to use artistic things to make things look at least halfway decent.And another thing.
Since we are talking about my incompetence, I need to admit something here. It has taken me a long time to admit this, but I feel it is finally the moment to own up to my faults.
I can’t Sudoku.
I just can’t. Anything more than the easy Sudoku and I’m out. It’s frustrating in a way that I can’t really explain to you people. I’m really good with numbers and strategy and figuring out how things are done and then getting really good at them. Like cards for instance. Give me a card game and a little time and I’ll get really good at it. See, cause things like cards and puzzles and SUDOKU have things that you need to know, ways to master the game, strategies and shortcuts. And once you figure those things out then you can hone those tricks and skills and get really good.
Except I can’t with Sudoku. I just can’t. A friend of mine had a book of Sodoku puzzles on a trip we took a year ago. During one of our flights I got hooked on trying to figure them out. I knew that my mom is also puzzle-crazy, so I bought her a book and said, “Now, I’m giving you this because I think you’ll like it, but I am warning you, it could become an obsession. Don’t pick it up unless you are ready for the obsession.” She did one of those nose snort/eye roll things that you apparently do 1) when you are a teenager and 2) when your child is grown and you need to continually remind them that they are idiots.
Fast-forward a year. The woman has gone on her computer and made up little blank Sudoku spreadsheets and prints them up in bulk. Because the Sudoku puzzles in the book are too small and she needs a scratch paper to work out the puzzles as she is doing them. I don’t know if I’ve had a conversation in the living room with my mother the past year where I haven’t been looking at the top of her head while she Sudoku’s away during our conversation.
But good thing she didn’t get obsessed. (Insert nose-snort/eye roll.)
The reason the obsession bothers me so much is that I CAN’T DO THE DAMN PUZZLES MYSELF!!!!! I try. I do. My mother even took time the other day with me and tried to explain the keys to Sudoku victory. After each number placed in its blank square she would look at me with hope in her eyes. As if that one number might have triggered something in my brain and brought with it a flood of Sudoku understanding and knowledge. It would break my heart every time when I had to simply bow my head shake it back and forth.
So basically I can’t paint cement and I can’t do simple number puzzles. My mother is probably bowing her own head right now, shaking it back and forth. She doesn’t even need to nose snort/ eye roll on this one to convince me I’m an idiot.
Where did she go wrong?
Monday, May 14, 2007
Mother’s Day on the Cheap
Last year for Mother’s Day I took my mom and dad up to Reno for the weekend to see Bill Cosby perform. I had just decided to buy a condo and I knew that it might be a few years before I was able to afford to spend any kind of money on Mother’s Day. I was trying to leave her with some decent memories to hold on to once my mortgage started taking all my disposable income (making it considerably less disposable...).
Well then, it turns out my mortgage has got nothing on a 10 week book tour. So currently my bank account is ridiculously, dangerously slim. I knew that my mom knows I’m broke, so I knew she wouldn’t want me spending any money on a Mother’s Day present for her. So I had to get creative. My aunt recommended that I cook her a meal. I recommended that my aunt stop getting high.
Instead of a real gift I decided to go the ridiculous route. Why not really? It’s not my fault the woman only decided to have one kid and therefore only has one hope for a decent gift on Mother’s Day. Let this be a lesson to you people out there who are thinking about only have one child - you’re really taking a very big risk that your one kid will be a horrible gift-giver.
Today that risk backfired on my mom.
I went to the craft store in town yesterday (never one to wait until the last moment) and bought a do-it-yourself stepping stone thing. Do you know what I’m talking about? The things that people get and have their kids put their adorable hands in the cement so they can forever have an imprint of their child’s youth and innocence? Yeah. I got one.
I was going to make her an ashtray, but I couldn’t find any clay. And I’m not really sure if my oven is okay for firing ceramics.
So I opened the package up, read the directions and realized I might be screwed. The directions said I needed a bucket to mix the cement in. I don’t have a bucket. I thought for a second of using the mixing bowls someone gave me. But, to my credit, I decided against that. I think that marks a tremendous level of maturity on my part. Of course, I might be even more mature if I had actually ever used those mixing bowls for anything other than eating popcorn out of. Yet I digress. I went down to the garage to see if I could find anything to mix my Mother’s Day gift in. Miraculously there was a bucket down there. It is not my bucket and I have no idea where it came from, but someone that I let stay with me apparently left a bucket and my mixing bowls owe their life to that person.
I mixed the cement together, which I had just done in New Orleans a couple weeks ago, so I mixed quite well. Then I poured the mix into the little plastic mold thing and let it sit for however long cement needs to sit. Then I put my handprint in and remembered all the awesome gifts I’ve given my mom over the years. This would not be falling in the same category with those gifts. My advice to kids: don’t set yourself up for failure by giving great gifts when you are a kid. Give crappy gifts well into your 20's so that the expectations are low. In fact, that is pretty good advice for all aspects of your life. Keep other people’s expectations very low. Then you are bound to wow them quite a bit.
Anywho. Today I finished off The Best Mother’s Day Gift Ever by adding some lovely paint to the dried stepping stone with my handprint. I painted “I (heart) Mom” and then at the bottom I put “Dawn - Age 29". Ha! God I crack myself up.
Besides that exciting gift we spent the day eating food and watching Thelma and Louise and napping. I have a feeling mom might be looking into adopting some more kids. She obviously can’t count on me to come through for the major gift-giving days anymore.
But, if she’s lucky someday soon she’ll have a whole stepping stone path with my handprints in the backyard. And if that ain’t something to be proud of, I just don’t know what is.
Well then, it turns out my mortgage has got nothing on a 10 week book tour. So currently my bank account is ridiculously, dangerously slim. I knew that my mom knows I’m broke, so I knew she wouldn’t want me spending any money on a Mother’s Day present for her. So I had to get creative. My aunt recommended that I cook her a meal. I recommended that my aunt stop getting high.
Instead of a real gift I decided to go the ridiculous route. Why not really? It’s not my fault the woman only decided to have one kid and therefore only has one hope for a decent gift on Mother’s Day. Let this be a lesson to you people out there who are thinking about only have one child - you’re really taking a very big risk that your one kid will be a horrible gift-giver.
Today that risk backfired on my mom.
I went to the craft store in town yesterday (never one to wait until the last moment) and bought a do-it-yourself stepping stone thing. Do you know what I’m talking about? The things that people get and have their kids put their adorable hands in the cement so they can forever have an imprint of their child’s youth and innocence? Yeah. I got one.
I was going to make her an ashtray, but I couldn’t find any clay. And I’m not really sure if my oven is okay for firing ceramics.
So I opened the package up, read the directions and realized I might be screwed. The directions said I needed a bucket to mix the cement in. I don’t have a bucket. I thought for a second of using the mixing bowls someone gave me. But, to my credit, I decided against that. I think that marks a tremendous level of maturity on my part. Of course, I might be even more mature if I had actually ever used those mixing bowls for anything other than eating popcorn out of. Yet I digress. I went down to the garage to see if I could find anything to mix my Mother’s Day gift in. Miraculously there was a bucket down there. It is not my bucket and I have no idea where it came from, but someone that I let stay with me apparently left a bucket and my mixing bowls owe their life to that person.
I mixed the cement together, which I had just done in New Orleans a couple weeks ago, so I mixed quite well. Then I poured the mix into the little plastic mold thing and let it sit for however long cement needs to sit. Then I put my handprint in and remembered all the awesome gifts I’ve given my mom over the years. This would not be falling in the same category with those gifts. My advice to kids: don’t set yourself up for failure by giving great gifts when you are a kid. Give crappy gifts well into your 20's so that the expectations are low. In fact, that is pretty good advice for all aspects of your life. Keep other people’s expectations very low. Then you are bound to wow them quite a bit.
Anywho. Today I finished off The Best Mother’s Day Gift Ever by adding some lovely paint to the dried stepping stone with my handprint. I painted “I (heart) Mom” and then at the bottom I put “Dawn - Age 29". Ha! God I crack myself up.
Besides that exciting gift we spent the day eating food and watching Thelma and Louise and napping. I have a feeling mom might be looking into adopting some more kids. She obviously can’t count on me to come through for the major gift-giving days anymore.
But, if she’s lucky someday soon she’ll have a whole stepping stone path with my handprints in the backyard. And if that ain’t something to be proud of, I just don’t know what is.
Friday, May 11, 2007
Some Article I Saw
I saw this headline online today:
Family awakened to find half-naked man in bed with them
So I, of course, investigated further. If you read the article (http://abclocal.go.com/ktrk/story?section=local&id=5291980) you will learn some very interesting tidbits about this story. The most interesting has to be the fact that this IS NOT THE FIRST TIME this has happened to this family. Seriously. Can someone explain to me what exactly is going on in the world?
Apparently this grandmother and the grandfather and two grandkids were in bed sleeping. Then the grandmother was woken (awoken? awaken? who knows.) by the granddaughter who was saying that someone was “on her”. Up until that point grandma had no idea that a unknown grown man had just crawled into bed with her. Of course, given the fact that the whole friggin’ family was already in the bed I could see how it would be difficult to distinguish between unknown people getting in the bed and just more relatives joining in for a slumber party.
This slumber party took a bit of a dirty turn when grandma noticed that Unknown Grown Man had his pants around his ankles while laying in the bed. This caused Known Grown Man to chase Unknown Grown Man off with threats of killing him.
The family is understandably a little shaken. CAUSE THIS KEEPS HAPPENING. This dude keeps coming in and getting into bed with these people in the middle of the night. Maybe he’s lonely and sees that this bed is clearly a welcoming one and so he decides to stop in for a moment. I dunno.
What I do know is that there are these knew things called, uh, LOCKS. And uh, SECURITY SYSTEMS. The locks help keep people out of your house, and then the security systems make a really loud noise to let you know if the locks did not work. Or, I guess the whole, “Let’s Wait For Little Susie to Scream Out in Horror and Panic Because There is an Unknown Grown Man Laying on Her” Security Plan is a little more economical than locks and security systems and it seems to be spot on in its ability to identify an intruder.
So carry on random bed family, carry on.
Family awakened to find half-naked man in bed with them
So I, of course, investigated further. If you read the article (http://abclocal.go.com/ktrk/story?section=local&id=5291980) you will learn some very interesting tidbits about this story. The most interesting has to be the fact that this IS NOT THE FIRST TIME this has happened to this family. Seriously. Can someone explain to me what exactly is going on in the world?
Apparently this grandmother and the grandfather and two grandkids were in bed sleeping. Then the grandmother was woken (awoken? awaken? who knows.) by the granddaughter who was saying that someone was “on her”. Up until that point grandma had no idea that a unknown grown man had just crawled into bed with her. Of course, given the fact that the whole friggin’ family was already in the bed I could see how it would be difficult to distinguish between unknown people getting in the bed and just more relatives joining in for a slumber party.
This slumber party took a bit of a dirty turn when grandma noticed that Unknown Grown Man had his pants around his ankles while laying in the bed. This caused Known Grown Man to chase Unknown Grown Man off with threats of killing him.
The family is understandably a little shaken. CAUSE THIS KEEPS HAPPENING. This dude keeps coming in and getting into bed with these people in the middle of the night. Maybe he’s lonely and sees that this bed is clearly a welcoming one and so he decides to stop in for a moment. I dunno.
What I do know is that there are these knew things called, uh, LOCKS. And uh, SECURITY SYSTEMS. The locks help keep people out of your house, and then the security systems make a really loud noise to let you know if the locks did not work. Or, I guess the whole, “Let’s Wait For Little Susie to Scream Out in Horror and Panic Because There is an Unknown Grown Man Laying on Her” Security Plan is a little more economical than locks and security systems and it seems to be spot on in its ability to identify an intruder.
So carry on random bed family, carry on.
Thursday, May 10, 2007
I’m Trying
I am trying ever so hard to come up with something worth blogging about. As I reported yesterday, my brain has taken a leave of absence. I do so hope it returns shortly. Or not. Being a zombie isn’t all that bad. It’s a lot less stressful that regular life.
Ahhh regular life. I am trying so hard to remember what that is. It’s slow goin’ in that department. So far the television has provided some insight for me. I’ve reconnected with my TV shows, and that is a start. I’ve also reconnected with sushi, which has gone a long way in making me feel like part of my own life once again.
I just don’t really know what I’m supposed to be DOING. I work from home. So I get up and walk down the hall and I do the work that clients require. And it’s not like there isn’t work to be done. There is. And I’m doing it. But see, the thing is, for the past few months I’ve been doing all that work PLUS planning a cross-country trip/book tour/New Orleans volunteer effort. So I’m left with a little bit of a hole where I used to put A WHOLE LOT OF CRAP.
Now I’m trying to figure out what to put in that space formally filled by a whole lot of crap. There are plenty of options. But I feel like I should just breathe for a minute and not jump immediately back into the craziness. But breathing takes a lot of energy and restraint and I’m not so good at being still, as it turns out. I’m very good at being stir crazy though, which is good to know.
My Blackberry broke the other day. I think it’s a sign. Well, I guess it could be a sign that you shouldn’t drop Blackberry’s in the toilet – BUT! I like to instead think of it as a sign that I don’t need a Blackberry anymore. That there is no reason for me to connected to everyone every single second of the day. And also, maybe that I shouldn’t keep my phone in my back pocket...
In book news, there is a little blurb about me in Runner’s World this month:
Do you understand how completely ridiculous it is that there is anything, blurb or otherwise, about ME in Runner’s Friggin World? I mean really. This could be why I feel so out of sorts, there is something off in the world when I’m in Runner’s World magazine. Of course things have been off for awhile, as I was in Women’s Health magazine last month:
Okay, I’m done now. I’ve officially spent a lot of time saying nothing at all. So it turns out “Write Ridiculously Pointless Blogs” is on the list of things I can do to fill all my free time now. Any other suggestions?
Ahhh regular life. I am trying so hard to remember what that is. It’s slow goin’ in that department. So far the television has provided some insight for me. I’ve reconnected with my TV shows, and that is a start. I’ve also reconnected with sushi, which has gone a long way in making me feel like part of my own life once again.
I just don’t really know what I’m supposed to be DOING. I work from home. So I get up and walk down the hall and I do the work that clients require. And it’s not like there isn’t work to be done. There is. And I’m doing it. But see, the thing is, for the past few months I’ve been doing all that work PLUS planning a cross-country trip/book tour/New Orleans volunteer effort. So I’m left with a little bit of a hole where I used to put A WHOLE LOT OF CRAP.
Now I’m trying to figure out what to put in that space formally filled by a whole lot of crap. There are plenty of options. But I feel like I should just breathe for a minute and not jump immediately back into the craziness. But breathing takes a lot of energy and restraint and I’m not so good at being still, as it turns out. I’m very good at being stir crazy though, which is good to know.
My Blackberry broke the other day. I think it’s a sign. Well, I guess it could be a sign that you shouldn’t drop Blackberry’s in the toilet – BUT! I like to instead think of it as a sign that I don’t need a Blackberry anymore. That there is no reason for me to connected to everyone every single second of the day. And also, maybe that I shouldn’t keep my phone in my back pocket...
In book news, there is a little blurb about me in Runner’s World this month:
Do you understand how completely ridiculous it is that there is anything, blurb or otherwise, about ME in Runner’s Friggin World? I mean really. This could be why I feel so out of sorts, there is something off in the world when I’m in Runner’s World magazine. Of course things have been off for awhile, as I was in Women’s Health magazine last month: You notice that I was also the cover model for both magazines. Ha! I think it would be funny if I was the cover model for these magazines, standing next to their cover models. That would be comedy.
In other magazine news I am once again getting US Weekly in my mailbox every week. This magazine cannot stay away from me. Last year it showed up in my mailbox uninvited for like a year. Then a renewal postcard came warning me that my subscription was about to end. This warning didn’t worry me too much, as I hadn’t subscribed to it. And then last week/month/sometime while I was gone I got another postcard saying that Premiere magazine was being discontinued and the rest of the subscription I’d paid for would come in the form of US Weekly. Seriously? You are replacing Premiere with US Weekly? Please.
Okay, I’m done now. I’ve officially spent a lot of time saying nothing at all. So it turns out “Write Ridiculously Pointless Blogs” is on the list of things I can do to fill all my free time now. Any other suggestions?
Tuesday, May 08, 2007
Some Pictures
I really have no thoughts at this time. My brain is on strike.
But I do have some pictures. And they are supposed to be worth a lot of words, I've heard.
But I do have some pictures. And they are supposed to be worth a lot of words, I've heard.
Monday, May 07, 2007
Peeking Out
Hello all.
It has been quite some time since I’ve written. My bad.
I got home from my 10 week book tour/New Orleans trip. Since that time I have been doing a lot of bonding with my couch and TV. I’m actually sore today from laying down for so many hours. Sore. That is fantastic.
I don’t really know what to do with myself entirely.
Since December, and probably even before that, I’ve been planning or doing this book tour thing. At the same time I’ve been doing my real job as well, as mortgages are fun things to pay sometimes. I hear. So now I’m done with the planning and the trip. And all that is left is my real work.
There are a lot of hours in the day.
When you don’t have any morning shows to do, or book events to go to, or random groups of people to talk to, or 500 miles to drive, or 25 people to organize in New Orleans, or 25 meals to eat in New Orleans, or ulcers to get.
I’m forcing myself to take a moment to breathe a little, to be okay with the calm for a second at least. My house is quiet. It hasn’t been quiet near me for months. It’s a weird sound to get used to.
There are still a lot more things on the List of Things to Do. So I will not be calm for long. But I’m trying, I really am. I’m trying to process the last 10 weeks. Trying to get some perspective on it now that I’m done. It already feels like something I did once. Not something I did last week.
Here was the last promo that was put together. It’s a lot like the first one, but with a little more added on. Watch till the end, there a little extra after the pr info.
And, because nothing is more important than tradition, here is the Dog de Mayo:
May Flowers and all that. You know, I remember coming up with some funnier ones that these than we’ve seen so far. I wonder what the hell months they are for, cause May Flowers is boring. Next year I think we’ll do all over the top ones that make no sense whatsoever. We’ll make the dog into modern art. Hell, we could probably then sell him for 3 million bucks.
Screw book tours I’m becoming an impressionist artist.
It has been quite some time since I’ve written. My bad.
I got home from my 10 week book tour/New Orleans trip. Since that time I have been doing a lot of bonding with my couch and TV. I’m actually sore today from laying down for so many hours. Sore. That is fantastic.
I don’t really know what to do with myself entirely.
Since December, and probably even before that, I’ve been planning or doing this book tour thing. At the same time I’ve been doing my real job as well, as mortgages are fun things to pay sometimes. I hear. So now I’m done with the planning and the trip. And all that is left is my real work.
There are a lot of hours in the day.
When you don’t have any morning shows to do, or book events to go to, or random groups of people to talk to, or 500 miles to drive, or 25 people to organize in New Orleans, or 25 meals to eat in New Orleans, or ulcers to get.
I’m forcing myself to take a moment to breathe a little, to be okay with the calm for a second at least. My house is quiet. It hasn’t been quiet near me for months. It’s a weird sound to get used to.
There are still a lot more things on the List of Things to Do. So I will not be calm for long. But I’m trying, I really am. I’m trying to process the last 10 weeks. Trying to get some perspective on it now that I’m done. It already feels like something I did once. Not something I did last week.
Here was the last promo that was put together. It’s a lot like the first one, but with a little more added on. Watch till the end, there a little extra after the pr info.
And, because nothing is more important than tradition, here is the Dog de Mayo:
May Flowers and all that. You know, I remember coming up with some funnier ones that these than we’ve seen so far. I wonder what the hell months they are for, cause May Flowers is boring. Next year I think we’ll do all over the top ones that make no sense whatsoever. We’ll make the dog into modern art. Hell, we could probably then sell him for 3 million bucks.Screw book tours I’m becoming an impressionist artist.
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