One of these days this body is going to be the death of me

I had good intentions as I always do about blogging regularly again and then I sort of wandered off. As I always do. In my defense though my body decided that the hormone supplement that I've been on for almost five years was suddenly way more than it wanted to accept and so after about 20 vials' worth of blood tests to figure out why I felt like ass, it was discovered that I had fourteen times the amount of progesterone that I should.

Which, for future reference, makes you feel like ass.

So that should be all fixed up, dosage-wise, and I feel better already. You wouldn't think it would take that much energy to mash a keyboard, but there you go.

My dose is WAY lower than it was before which means it's not $85 a month, which sucks. You'd think that affordable meds would be a good thing but the $85 a month was covered by my insurance (most of the time) and so I'd pay for it up front with my credit card and get points, and ring it through with my drug store loyalty card and get points there too, and then I'd get paid back so basically it was 5 minutes of my time and a bunch of points.

GAME THE SYSTEM. WIN THE POINTS.

Anyway, I'm back.

This is why I’m not allowed to tell jokes. I always forget important plot points.

A funny thing happened on the way to Nashville.  That I totally forgot to tell you about.

When I flew into Minneapolis and lined up to go through Customs, I somehow managed to pick the lineup with the most humorless looking agent available.  That’s just how my life works out.

“What is the purpose of your visit?” he droned.

“I’m going to a blogging conference.”

He raised an eyebrow a millimetre.  “A logging conference?” he said skeptically.  “You don’t look like a lumberjack.”

“Um…thanks?  No, a blogging conference?” I mimed typing.

Blank look.

“You know, on the internet?” I was really hoping this wasn’t going to turn into a cavity search.  And that he knew what the internet was.

“Do you…have a blog?” he inquired, peering at me carefully, like blogging might be contagious.

“Um…yes.  Actually, I have two,” I admitted. 

He looked at me with concern for a moment, and then stamped my papers and waved me through, clearly not prepared to deal with crazy people.

From now on?  If anybody asks, I am going to WRITING conferences.

Some random thoughts about BlissDom. Of course.

Holy crap, how did it get to be Tuesday?  A person goes to a lavish resort hotel for an awesome conference with fantastic people and the week just flies by.

The Hotel: 52 acres of opulent, bio-domed, well-oiled machine, including but not limited to: 10 restaurants, a gelato shop, a 2-story waterfall, a musical fountain, several other waterfalls, a boat ride, 3 bars, some ducks, exotic plants from all over, and a unicorn breeding ground.

You know what they really need?  A “comfortable shoe” store.

The Conference: Everyone was really relaxed, there were some really useful sessions, and some pretty great parties.  Much lower on the swag-o-meter than BlogHer, but we were sedated instead with a constant stream of food and offers of massages.  Also, there was a flash mob and a giant raisin.  So, just like every other conference, right?

I’m sure the National Association of Especially Stern Actuaries totally gets up to spontaneously dance to ‘Party in the USA’ after the closing address.

The People: Well, duh.  This is kind of why we all go, right?  To hang out with amazing women like Becky, Michele, Mary Ann and Beth.  Beth was the only one I didn’t really ‘know’ before the conference, but she definitely gets in the club.  She crochets zombies and is crafting her way through the Martha Stewart Encyclopedia of Crafts.  What’s not to love?

I bet I’d still win the “drunken crafting using only gold spraypaint and glow-in-the-dark straws” category, though.  It’s a narrow genre but I’ve made it my own.

A Tableau:

2

I call it “Slightly Evil-Looking Blue Bunnies, Normally Harbringers of Frozen Treats, Guard Representative Beverage from Amusingly Named Hotel, Just Prior to Session Start”.  

The Takeaway:  Blog conferences are fun.  Someone should sponsor me for the next one.

 

Aaaaaand, that’s a random wrap.  Grab the button, link up, make it happen!  And don’t forget to visit some of your peeps, because someday you might meet them at a conference, and they’ll be all, “Do you remember that random Tuesday that you didn’t comment on my blog?  I cried for days and ate a lot of peanut butter.”

Blogging is hard.

Yes, generally I DO need someone to tell me what to do

A while back I saw the movie Julie & Julia with FoN. The book was very endearing, you should definitely read it. I'd recommend the movie if you really, literally, absolutely have nothing else to do. Like, your chequebook is balanced and the recycling is sorted and you've taught your dog to let himself out and take himself for a walk.

Anyway, that's not the point. The point is, if you haven't seen it or read the book (did I mention you should read the book, not see the movie?), is that it's about a blogger. A woman who cooks her way through Julia Child's Mastering the Art of French Cooking over the course of a year, and blogs about it.

(And then she turned it into a book. Sheer. Genius.)

I remember thinking back to that book when I started this blog, and thinking that I should really have something like that, some kind of challenge or 'theme'. Rather than just yammering on about nothing. Because I think Seinfeld already did that. But I never came up with a good goal, so I just started with the yammering. (You're welcome.)

The movie reminded me, obviously. And I still can't come up with a good theme. But a while back I posted my List of Things to do Before I Die, so in the interest of keeping you people entertained, I'm going to pick one and just launch into it. We're kind of broke right now, so unless you want to read a whole series of posts about fundraisers so I can go to Egypt, here's what's in the running:

#23, Learn to 'sideways stop' on hockey skates (the potential for many a bruised butt in this one. No, I won't post pictures)

#25, Learn sign language (I can already flip you off! I'm a frigging natural)

#36, See a ghost (I could get Frogmama's hubby to help me with this one)

#44, Trace my family tree (Oh holy crap wouldn't THAT be thrilling for y'all? WE MIGHT BE RELATED. Scarier than the ghost)

#108, Take over a small island in a bloodless coup. Use the natives as foot soldiers in my bid to conquer the world

(How did THAT get in there?)

or #61, Sing in a gospel choir.

And, because I'm incapable of making any kind of decision without asking the Internet first, I need your vote. I'd leave your vote in a comment, because I'll probably never get around to making a poll. Wait, will I?

(Asks the internet)

Nope. Please comment.

In lieu of a real post, a challenge. En garde!

Often, on Thursdays, I post a retro pic for ya'll in conjunction with Bex's fun new meme, Funky Foto Flashback. But this week I'm saving the painful memories til tomorrow because Jen at Blissfully Caffeinated and Mary Anne, the Stiletto Mom, have put their twisted brains together and challenged us all to celebrate prom season by posting our own prom photos.

(Up here we don't call it 'prom' much. We usually just say 'grad'. But it's the same concept: the hair! the satin! the underage drinking!)

If you want to play - and you know you therapist will say it's probably a good idea - just post your own pic tomorrow and make sure you give those two ladies credit. We have to blame SOMEONE for those mental scars, right? Then leave them a comment telling them where to find your shame, and they'll direct the entire internet your way.

Well, maybe half.

I thought I was over this 18 years ago. Er, I mean, 8 years ago. Yeah.

I'm having blogging angst, ya'll.

I know, right? What a stupid thing to be angsty about. Apparently I don't have much going on in my life. It's not like I fucked up my existence by buying a MONKEY or anything.

It started with the stupid comment form, which is STRESSING ME OUT. Half of you hate it, half of you love it. I don't know what to do with it. I seem to have fixed it to MY liking but I'm not the one leaving the comments.

And then, yesterday, I was all giddy because the Random Tuesday like, exploded out of the gate. And then I got an email from a PR rep asking if I wanted to review a cleaning product, which, okay, nobody is EVER going to believe I actually cleaned something, but thanks, call me when you are working with the developers of anti-zombie spray and I'm TOTALLY your girl. But that was one of the first times anybody's asked me, so I thought it was kind of neat.

So I told hubby, you know, the person who is supposed to GET ME, and he revealed to me that HE DOESN'T EVEN READ THIS BLOG.

Oh.

He reads my other blog, religiously, because it's about the cutest child in the world, but this one he "just kind of skims because it's just a bunch of friends linking to each other, right?".

Is it? I mean, is that what this blog is? I don't know. I never had a big "plan" for it, like some people do, and I never intended to make money from it, but look! I sold outslapped some ads up there anyway.

My feelings were a lot little hurt because I consider this blog to be more of "me" and the other blog to be "me playing the role of Xander's mother", so it felt like he was saying that he wasn't interested in ME anymore unless it had something to do with our son. Which, of course, is totally not what he was saying.

He's a guy. They don't do that.

But he was surprised that this blog has a larger readership. I don't even know myself why you people keep showing up here. I totally appreciate it, but it feels a little undeserved most of the time. Do you just follow me home because I comment on your blog? Are you going to wander off in disinterest if I start doing reviews?

Anyway I'm thinking maybe I'll take a couple of days off. Bex has a pretty cool meme tomorrow that I might do and of course if the Friday Fill-Ins are good this week I'll do those. And I'll be posting Xander's 17 month update in the next couple of days.

Okay, fine, I'm not going anywhere.

But I'm going to be sulky.

I have a rich fantasy life: Random Tuesday Thoughts

randomtuesday

So, it's that time again...it occurs to me that recently I haven't really been EXPLAINING the Random Tuesday Thoughts for people coming late to the party. So I'll lay it out for you: It's Tuesday. This post has no cohesive train of thought, that is to say, it's random.

Ta da!

So if you have a bunch of little ideas rattling around in your head that can't be blog posts on their own but just won't go away, tie them together with this half-assed meme. Or if you feel the need to get all stream-of-consciousness. Or if you just want to do what all the cool kids are doing.

But you have to sit through mine first.

The guy who installed our new windows and doors recently just sent us a thank you card. Um, is this some kind of contractor etiquette I wasn't aware of? I mean, it's kind of his slow season and all but still, a card? Shouldn't we be thanking HIM?

Gah - wait - was I supposed to send HIM a card? Crap. I don't remember Miss Manners covering this one.


I've almost recovered all the i.d. I lost when my wallet was stolen. (Though I still have to start a new punch card for coffee beans, because the barista totally didn't believe me when I said they owed me a bag of beans. Who would say that if it weren't true?). Which is great and all but, now I don't actually have a wallet. So all my cards are sort of haphazardly shoved in my pockets and falling out onto the floor and never in the same place twice.

Which, now that I think about it, is way more my style.

Blogger needs an "unpublish" button. Because I'm an idiot. I think there needs to be a lot of OTHER buttons to accomodate my idiocy, too, like an "untweet" button and an "unflush" button and an "unsay" button.

Possibly a "re-live your life for the last week" button.

No news on the monkey front. To answer some of your comments, I KNOW, RIGHT?? I thought for sure you couldn't have a monkey here either but apparently you just have to pay through the nose. The discount monkey was only (!) $750 or something but it costs like another $2500 to get it all up to spec. It has to be a GOVERNMENT APPROVED monkey.

Most people just have children for the privilege of having poop flung at us. Much cheaper.

I got a notice from the Land Titles people today about a discharge in interest in my mortgage. Aside from sounding kind of gross, I'm pretty sure it just has something to do with the re-finance we did back in August, but of course the first thought through my head was: OH MY GOD SOME ANONYMOUS BENEFACTOR TOTALLY PAID OFF MY MORTGAGE.

Because I'm pretty sure that actually happens, in real life.

How cool would that be?? Think of all I could buy do with that extra cash every month!

I almost didn't say anything to hubby while I was looking at the letter but then he was all, "So does that mean someone paid off our mortgage??".

We're totally meant for each other.


JS-Kits is doing weird things to my comments. Blogger doesn't seem to think I have any, so it's not sending me notification emails, so the monkey post sat there for two hours this morning while I assumed that NOBODY LOVES ME. I had the rope all strung up and everything before I thought "maybe I should check the actual blog". And hey! You all still love me after all.

I swear, I have no fucking idea what I did for self-validation before I started blogging.

I got quoted at Blogtations! I'm totally flattered. It would have been nice if they'd chosen a quote that didn't make me sound quite so much like a raging alcoholic hosebag, but I guess you guys have figured that out on your own huh?

And, as a late addition, I just found this. I wasn't looking; someone linked to it on Facebook. I swear this shit just FINDS me now. Go on, click it and check out the larger image. THEN see if you're able to sleep tonight.

So....on that note, who wants to play? Grab the button - slap it up there, randomize your post, then come back and leave your link with Mr. Linky! And try to visit a few of the other participants - I know it's getting to be a super long list, but they're all AMAZING bloggers.

Well, almost all of them. Those people that keep leaving their link to non-RTT posts? I'm sending the velociraptors after them. They've been chained to a bunkbed for a while, and those fuckers are HUNGRY.


Now that's love

Some of you mocked me and pretended to be askeered of my Friday Fill-In answers this week. But that's okay. I showed hubby, and he laughed, and then he said, "That's funny, I was just going to change my Facebook status to say 'Paul can't believe how hard it is to get a hooker's blood out of the carpet.' ".

See? We're MEANT to be together.

And in other news, the Un Mom is going legit and is now just http://www.theunmom.com. It's still hosted with Blogger, so I have no idea if this will mess with your RSS feed. I'm not that kind of geek. Ask me which one of the Horsemen of the Apocalypse Gambit turned into, or ask me to rant about how Grant Morrison has fucked up the entire DC Comics universe, and I can do that. But my web address knowledge is limited to "Can pointy THIS over THERE". So someone let me know, 'kay?

Bling blingity bling, bling bling bling bling

Since it's Wednesday, think I can accept these awards wordlessly?

courtesy of

from the lovely Erin at The Mom Buzz

This little beauty from GreenJello at May You Lead an Interesting Life

And giraffes! from Ane at lilac button

And a buttload

from the very generous

Stacy's Random Thoughts

I'm probably supposed to list random facts about myself or something, but, shhhhh!! Wordless. Remember?

Thank you SO much you guys. It really does make my day when someone thinks highly enough of my silly little blog to give me a freakin award!! I mean, how cool can you get?

(...oops. That wasn't wordless. I knew I wouldn't be able to do it)

The Spin Cycle: Origin Story

Jen over at Sprite's Keeper has a really interesting Spin Cycle going this week fortnight. She wants to know about our blogs' life story, it's inception, it's psyche. What made us start our blogs, and why did we name them what we did?

That's right, I'm blogging about blogging, AGAIN.

The Un Mom is pretty straight forward. I'd been writing A Letter to Xander for a little while when I realized that its format - a letter to my son - was somewhat restrictive. I mean, okay, I am someone's parent, but I didn't stop being all those other things when I gave birth. I needed somewhere to write about stuff that interested just ME, that didn't relate to parenting. Things that were un-mom-like. Therefore, The Un Mom.

But when I started thinking about a redesign, I kind of knew what look I wanted, and because I'm such a comic book nerd fan it involved comics. Rachel did such a fantastic job, it was like she was in my head (She may have been. Someone rearranged the furniture up there). And then, I started to think of the Un Mom as an actual character, like kind of a super hero.

(Except for the tiny voice that says that the Un Mom sounds more like a VILLAIN. We're just going to ignore that voice. We're pretty good at ignoring voices around here).

And every supervillainhero needs a good origin story, right? Right:

The Un Mom began as plain old SuperKeely, a superheroine with no known alter ego. In truth, she didn't need one; she was who she was (except when she wasn't, and then she had a really good PR team). Ageless, she protected the city for years, her exact powers undocumented but thought to include super strength, a pretty fast uppercut, and self deception. Occasionally she would vanish for periods of time, until her ratings went back up city needed her protection again, but the citizens always knew they could count on her.

Then she did what every good superheroine does at some point; she fell in love.

But she didn't fall in love with a villain and make him have a change of heart only to have him change his mind again and betray her, and she didn't fall in love with another superhero only to have him tragically defeated by his arch nemesis. No, SuperKeely fell in love with a regular guy. A guy who had been on her PR team for a very long time, and she felt like she'd always known him, but it never even occurred to her that they should date until her BSHF (Best SuperHero Friend) pointed it out to her. That guy had seen her knocked out cold by a C-List villain, and trip over her own cape, and he loved her the whole time anyway.

So they eloped to Vegas, and settled down, and SuperKeely fought a little less crime every day. Eventually she managed to get knocked up, and she took a year off from crime fighting altogether. Unsurprisingly, the city survived, and new heroes filled the void, which was for the best because spandex is NOT forgiving of post-pregnancy saddle bags.

But SuperKeely found that even though she loved her tiny son, and adored being his mother, she missed her work. So after some major boot camp she returned to fighting crime, at least part time. But a narrow escape with a common thug made her realize something: SHE HAD MOM-BRAIN. She couldn't focus. She couldn't pay attention to fighting crime and at the same time worry about her kid at daycare, or wonder if they should have pork chops for dinner, or muse on whether bottles with BPA in them were doing permanent damage. She was going to get herself killed.

In despair, she turned to the superhero psychologist. He advised her that while she was fighting crime, she couldn't BE a parent. She had to be SuperKeely, not somebody's mother.

SuperKeely protested that she couldn't possibly do that. The superhero psychologist, who was also a witch doctor (I know, a rare breed), told her he would hypnotize her and give her a trigger word that would grant her the power to forget her child; just long enough for a four-hour shift of fighting crime. The trigger word was "un-mom".

SuperKeely was back; but secretly, she was really the Un Mom.

7 reasons I don't really feel like blogging lately

1. It's the holidays and there's all this great food and baking and yummy caloriffic stuff, and it all makes me very logey (I would say bloggy, if bloggy meant what it sounds like it should mean, instead of what we know it to mean, which is adv., "having to do with blogging"). It's hard to be all thinky after that, unless said thinkiness occurs during the commercial break. Okay, I'm responsible for a lot of the baking myself, but that's just another reason I don't have the mental energy to blog; I used it all while baking stuff.*

2. My kid isn't doing anything great these days.

Okay, fine, yeah yeah, everything he does is inspirational and amazing and cue the symphony orchestra. It's just not anything I feel like writing about.

3. My witch elf on Warhammer, Stabitha, is really quite naked. Like NAY. KED. I need to get her something to wear. I suppose I could have picked one of the character types with more of a penchant for garments, but she's good wholesome stabby fun. It's just a little cringe-worthy to watch her take on lions and bows & arrows (oh my!) wearing only a bra and a loincloth.

Oh, well, and she has a belt. So, y'know, she's halfway there.

4. My place of employment shuts down between Christmas and New Years, and seeing as I was on maternity leave for 3/4 of the year, I don't have any holidays coming to me. So I'm trying to cram in extra hours where extra hours don't want to fit (when what I REALLY want to do is tell them to cram the extra hours where the sun don't shine) so I can be paid for that week and we don't have a starvey, starvey Christmas.

5. Other people's high-emotion holidays make me tired. No, really. I'm like an energy vampire in reverse or something.

6. It is FUCKING FREEZING HERE this week. It's hard to think past your next sweater.

6. Did I mention the 5 extra pounds I'm now lugging around due to Christmas calorie carnage?

*This item has possibly the most made-up words I've ever used in one sentence. You're welcome.

Filler

So no sooner do I lament the lack of google weirdness on this blog, then I get a bunch of strange search strings. Be careful what you wish for, hey? So I'm doing a little roundup here because a) I should probably post something and b) they amuse me, so they might amuse you.

1. "un mom blog". Yeah, okay, I just wanted to toot my own horn that at least two, count em, TWO people are actually looking for ME. Or, y'know, someone else that by that name. But I like to think that it's me.

2. "mom whores". Um. Probably none of those around. I'll check, though.

3. "adult diaper sex". Okay. I have regretted writing that rant about diaper cakes many, many times now. And re-iterating it has probably just ensured me at least 10 more google hits from diaper fetishists. Also - EWWWWWW.

(I wonder how many pervs Cutie Booty Cakes gets?)

4. "hollywood mom". HaaahhahhahhahhahAHHHAHHAHHhahhahha! *wipes tear* That's awesome. Probably less of those here than the mom whores.

But my favorite, my absolute favorite, was this one:

That just rocks. At first I was all, holy shit! Google is psychic! How did it guess that about me just from my inane ramblings? And then I remembered that I confessed it once when I got tagged with one of those memes, so it wasn't as amazing. But still funny. All I have to say to that poor google searcher is, dude, if I could have figured out what to do with my degree via google, I would have done it a long time ago. I am going to be absolutely no fucking help to you whatsoever.

We're gonna need a bigger boat

I haven't written a post in a while that wasn't a meme, a theme, or an award acceptance. Because, well, I've been seriously lacking in inspiration. I have been a non-participant in Maternal Spark's Monday Muse for a while, not because I've been busy writing lists, but because I've been feeling totally without a muse.

And here is my shameful little secret - often, most of the time in fact, I need someone to give me an idea. Not just 'inspiration' - a friggin' IDEA. Even if said idea just becomes a launching point, I need somewhere to start. A project. A theme. A fully-formed, totally realized, clever-ass idea. I mean, it didn't even occur to me to start a blog until someone else said, "Hey, why don't you have a blog?". And look how THAT turned out.

Um...okay, wait, that's a bad example. Never mind.

Anyway, sometimes, when it comes to writing, I just go to a website like this one and GET an idea (oddly, there are far fewer websites that give you ideas for painting or developed concepts on which you can base your grad show in ceramics). Today, for instance, I pressed the button and got this:

"What's so great about being stiff? Write a story or memory whose title would contain the word 'starch.'"

What the...? Are you kidding me? You want me to write about...STARCH?

Okay, that sucks. I think I'm going to need more help than that.

Actually...fuck it. I'm going to go play video games.

I virtually rock. I rock virtually? Whatever.

Apparently I'm just burnin up the blogosphere, because in addition to all the awards my cute little son got, I have a few to accept over here. When will this glorious, ego-stroking, feel-good madness end?

Hopefully never.

So Joanne over at CoconutPalmDesigns gave us this award:

Because, obviously, I rock. As per the title.

It appears there is some kind of fine print attached to this one, implying I need to provide you with 6 random facts about me. But, I'm a rock star, so I'm going to flout (flaunt? Taunt? Trout? Where's my floutin' dictionary??) tradition and just give you one: I was a huge hoarder of sentimental objects until I went backpacking for a few months, at which point I realized that if I didn't need or miss that crap while I was gone, I didn't need it at all. The fact that hubby has t-shirts from high school drives me CRAZY.
(Ironically, I have several sentimental objects from travelling. But they're SMALL)

I hereby pass this award on to:

Mrs. Mullet from Frogs in my Formula, because, hello? She's all business up front and party in the back!
and Casey over at Half As Good As You, because she just rocks. And stalks. And probably something else that rhymes. Talks? It seems likely.

Then Becky at Suburban Matron gave me this award. She said I could ignore it if I wanted to. Does that seem like a takeback to you guys? Because I'm keepin' this bad boy, sorry.

No strings attached to this one, plus it has a cute picture! I'm passing it to some people whose writing I really enjoy:

Kelly at Per Se
Perpetua at Our Lady of Perpetual Bread Crumbs
(I'm surprised either of those people have enough time to write post-its, nevermind a blog, but they do it well).

The last award is near & dear to my heart and was given to me by both SavvySuzie at The $200 Mission and Ane at Life According to Me. If you aren't sure why I'm so geeked out about getting this award, um, hello? Take a look around.



I'll pass this on to a couple of super Moms,
Petra the Wise (*Young*) Mommy
and On the Verge

Phew. Now I'm off to compulsively dust my shiny new awards!

...no. No, I'm not. I'm going to go play Warhammer. Good thing there's no blog award for cleanliness.

I got candy!

BLOG candy, before all you HASAYers jump down my throat. Notice anything different? A few minor changes in the decor? Yeah, I went out last night and I left Rachel from Blog Candy Designs the keys to the joint. I guess she thought I needed an overhaul? Can't imagine why.

Anyway, I LOVE IT. And Rachel was awesomely professional with my nitpicky (and impatient - refresh test blog, refresh test blog, refresh test blog) self.

What do ya'll think? Does this blog layout make my butt look smokin', or what??

Random Tuesday Thoughts

I wonder if I should have titled this post with something to bait the search engines, as Anna over at abdpbt suggested. Something like "10 ways to keep your man". Then I could have followed it up with suggestions like "Bash him over the head with a hammer and stuff him in your linen closet", and see how many authorities were called hits I got.

Do you think some Americans are finally ready to accept a black man as president because the tv show 24 and Keifer Sutherland told them it was okay? I mean, I'd drink bleach if Keifer Sutherland told me it was okay. Although I won't buy a Ford. Hm, maybe it's the visual.

My toe is itchy.

I'm reading this book called "Gargoyle" by, um, Davidson something. I got it from the library as a "Popular Pick", which means I only get it for a week, which means it's due back tomorrow. It's actually pretty good, so I should probably be finishing it instead of blogging. The last "Popular Pick" I got out was some horrid thing by Stephanie Meyer, and I didn't even finish the first chapter, because my reading time is precious these days. It wasn't the Twilight ones, but those sound stupid too. I mean, I didn't even buy the "hundreds-of-years-old vampire falls for immature teenage ditz" phenomenon from Joss Whedon, and I LOVE Buffy the Vampire Slayer. It just doesn't seem plausible. I know guys are way less mature than women and all, but in hundreds of years don't you think they should have done a little personal development?
...where was I? Oh, Gargoyle. Good book.

Do we blog because we're a little crazy, or are we a little crazy because we blog? Discuss.

I BETTER GET A BUFFY COMIC THIS WEEK. Seriously. It's like, a month overdue. C'mon people - in the middle of a story arc?? Get your shit together, I need a fix!! Don't make me come down there!

There were two Buffy references in this post. I'm a total nerd.

I always knew this day would come

Kelly over at The Neurotic Mom bestowed upon me an award! That's right, kidlets, I'm a rock star!

And now I have that stupid Pink song in my head. Except I don't know ANY of the lyrics, other than "I'm a rock star, something SOMEthing, mumble MUMble". Thanks, Kelly. Thanks a lot. I'll just let that repeat on a loop until I'm utterly insane or, in fact, a rock star.

I shall now let some of my rockstar godliness (goddessliness?) rub off on the following people:

Becky at Suburban Matron

Kelly at Per Se

Savvysuzie at The $200 Mission

C'mon, guys, step up to the microphone. You know you wanna RAWK.

Makeover Artist wanted! Stacy London need not apply!

Okay, well, in honour of Hallowe'en, I want to 'dress up' this blog. I have a sense of what I'm looking for (something 3-column, 'comic-booky' with black frames...and, well, comic-y images...and NOT BLACK) but neither the time nor the wherewithall to do it.

So I'm officially taking applications (hahhahhahhHAHAHHAH!! I'm a pretentious twat). Anybody want to take on this little project? Blog designers, belly on up and email me at keelyblogs[at]gmail[dot]com your willingness & approximate cost.

(I'm not necessarily looking for 'cheapest', I'm looking for someone who 'gets' what I'm looking for in a design.)

(Gawd, that sounded pretentious again. Somebody help me.)

(I'm going to stop now.)