So I decided it was time for me to revive and revise because, lately, I make
Dashboard Confessional say, "Bitch, lighten up."
This time, I could only muster up one-fifth of what I did the last time. Panic
will do that to you. But I did manage to make myself feel somewhat better, so
I'll try again at some point.
(Not a meme, nor even a combination of two memes, as was the original version.
Do it if you think of stuff of your own and have nothing else to write about.)
I love when people refer to me as "the lovely and talented" Golf
Widow. I know it's just an expression, but I pretend that I am lovely and
talented anyway, and it cheers me up immensely.
I also love when people tell me I'm pompous, because that means my disguise
is working. In real life, I'm just plain folks.
I didn't want to join Twitter,
but now I have to admit it's sort of awesome.
SONG ALERT: Saga, On the Loose.
I kick serious arse at Merv
Griffin's Crosswords. If there is one upside in the world
to having one's position eliminated due to budgetary constraints, it is probably
the fact that I can curl up on my sofa and yell "DRUPE, you moron,"
at the television set.
My new mantra is I Can Do Anything. I say it aloud once a day.
Sometimes I have to repeat it a few times. Sometimes my teeth are gritted
when I say it. But I say it.
Recently, I wrote a guest blog wherein I wondered why Barack Obama hadn't
done any campaigning using the word "Obamarama," which would totally
swing my vote his way, but now I'm also thinking that I'd also swing toward
anything remotely either "Hillarylicious" or "McCaintastic,"
just on general principles of wordlustiness.
The brisket at I'll Take Manhattan is insanely good. My gramma would probably
have said it needed a little something, but no one else would.
Cassini
is testing for water on Enceladus. Anytime Cassini does anything
new and cool, my mind perks up, because it means quotes from Carolyn Porco,
my favorite spacegeek and fellow Beatles fan. Also, I love the whole testing-for-water
thing, because water means being able to support life (as we know it). I'm
not so much about taking over other planets like locusts, but I still believe,
in a very non-denominational, non-confrontational, non-jumping-on-furniture
way, that we're not alone.
I just saw this: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YFzMcqzDOgw
and I have decided I am going to be less like the distressed looking little
girl in the right front row and start being the little boy in the front row
center. (Thank you, Cosmic.)
I hate myself for having had to give in to le mart de wal, but
I spent less on my new outfits, two new pairs of shoes, and Cadbury Cream
Eggs than some woman spent on a single camisole on What Not to Wear the
other day. I suppose you think this means that it's my own fault that our
economy is so frigged up, what with my effectively sending my scraped-together
pennies overseas in order to dress myself, but bear in mind that I wouldn't
have had to update my wardrobe at all if I hadn't needed new things for job
interviews since my former position was eliminated due to budgetary constraints.
It's a vicious circle, but it's no fault of mine. Feel free to complain to
the Fortune 500 with the awesome 2007 fourth quarter earnings and the new
division acquision, who decided they couldn't afford to keep me anymore.
Number 11 was a lot more satisfying to write than it had any business being.
This quotation, from Dixie's
diary, is brought to you by the letter Win:
"That chihuahua was on him like four labs on a rottweiler in heat. He
even humped Milo! I had to explain that they are both males and that's not
appropriate dog park behavior. Just ask George Michael."
SONG ALERT: The Zoo, Faithfully (Journey cover)
Anything involving Victor Borge.
I know NCIS is a ripoff of CSI, but, first of all, what
isn't? and second of all, it has that Abby character, on whom I have such
a girl crush, and third of all, they're, like, addicted to the bitchslap on
that show, and that's way funnier than the patented CSI punchline
plus shades equals theme song by The Wh♂.
I had a salad for dinner the other night that was about eighty percent bell
pepper chunks and twenty percent olives. Those percentages might be off, because
I threw in a handful of chick peas at the last minute, and I did put vinaigrette
on it. Okay, screw the percentages. I ate a bunch of bell peppers and olives
the other night, and they were good.
If I take a Benadryl and wait twenty minutes, I can drink half of a Ben
and Jerry's Cherry Garcia milkshake without having an allergic reaction. They
are overpriced and not as much fun as eating the ice cream, but they're more
convenient to my chocolate/dairy-hating body.
Iron
Workz. Rock 'n' roll forever. (Thank you again, Cosmic.)
Tribbles. Soft, furry, Klingon alarms. Tribbles r in ur base, stealin ur quatrotriticale & makin lurve. But I get very "awww" whenever
I see Spock surreptitiously cuddling the tribble whilst saying, "Fortunately,
I am ... immune to its effects."
There are twenty things up there. You're bound to find one that makes you want
to comment.
Or you could comment on something totally out of the box.
Just don't try to sell Xanax to my readers, unless you'd like to contact me
for my advertising rates first. With my finances being what they are (nonexistent),
I am really over that.