I don’t want to sound completely infantile like someone who laughs when they hear the word uranus, but I will not being using the word “fard” in conversation anytime soon. It doesn’t sound at all like what it means.
It is strictly for “Words with Friends” usage.
After a very extended absence, I decided to start up my blog again today, so I am once again at the germinal stage. I started doing this blog for me as a way to learn something new and to use my creativity every day. Like many things started with good intentions, somewhere along the way it took a bad turn!
There are many different analytics available for bloggers to see: who is viewing their blog, what they are reading, how long they are spending there, etc. I am sure that it comes as no surprise, in this age of information overload, it’s all there on display.
Well, I was letting all this information completely take the fun out of this for me. If people weren’t reading my blog every day I was taking it way too personally. “What the hell do you mean you’re sick - get out of bed and get on the computer and read my limerick! You can throw up later!”
So, I deleted all my reports and have decided to go “naked”. I don’t know if anyone’s reading, and I really don’t care. I know a bunch of words that you don’t!
Eileen expostulated with me about my decision to often forego the “Thoughts for the day” section of my blog using the argument “Don’t you think?” Well, that question set me to thinking…
Still thinking…
I am at the liberry writing my thoughts for the day for you’re enjoyment. I came hear rather then staying at home being that I dont get alot done their.
How many solecisms can you find in the above?
“Happy Holidays” and best wishes for the hiemal season.
Although this word is too simplistic to show up as a word-of-the-day, it probably should because many patrons of Middletown’s Thrall library need to be reminded of its meaning. The word is QUIET.
In keeping with my obsessive nature, I decided that the only way I can make it through the day and function like a responsible member of society is by spending a good chunk of my awake time at the local library. I even put down in my “To Do” application on my phone: “go to the library” (I also put down “brush your teeth” – I don’t have much to do and I wanted to justify the 99 cents that I spent for the app).
Well, it appears that I am kibble for all the “Thrallians” that are starved for suckers to talk to. To use as many colloquialisms as I can come up with, I attract them like “bees to honey”, “flies to sh@#”, “magnets to steel”, “fatties to the buffet line”, etc. (I would be able to come up with more but I didn’t go to the library today rendering me stupid). Two days ago I fell victim to someone who was reciting his own version of Orwellian doublespeak that I didn’t understand a word of. I could have said, “come again” but I figured that it would just prolong the misery so I nodded a lot and offered an obligatory “hmm” whenever he deigned to pause. This experience was an absolute delight compared to the torture that I endured yesterday. My latest “ear suitor” didn’t pause long enough for my “hmm”s – he just kept droning on and on like William Henry Harrison at his inaugural address (nerd fact – Harrison spoke for almost two hours in a snowstorm and ended up dying of pneumonia). Hey Jabber Jaws – let me teach you some social cues: when someone packs up their stuff, puts their coat on, and rises to leave, it is not an invitation to follow them out the door (as you did). It is a nonverbal way of saying “leave me the hell alone!”.
So, today I went on the library website and looked up their layout trying to come up with a “library avoidance plan” better than disguising myself in swaddle. I decided to hide in the children’s section from now on. Kids don’t like me; I’ll be safe there.
Well, I now know why there is no sleeping in the library! I am here again with big plans on looking for jobs, studying for my Microsoft Office certification, building my Smurf village on my iPhone, and sneaking the occasional granola bar and there is a snorer in the midst!!!!!!!!!! Maybe I’ll play that old brogue on him where you put his hand in warm water and he’ll pee!
Where is that “Sleep Monitor” when I need him! Probably laying in wait for me to nod off…
If you’ve heard me rant about this before, I apologize in advance for my redundancy but here goes…
This past weekend I was at a party and I met this fantastic woman who said to me right after the customary “getting to know you” pleasantries were over, “Don’t you just love my shoes?” Although the shoes were very nice, it was the wearer that was the veriest; she asked that question and I was hooked…
When someone goes to the store and sees an item of apparel that they like (or love, or simply can’t live without), they usually try it on, and if they like what they see, they buy it. Long before the credit card bill is paid (do people still use cash?), the tags are removed, or even the bag is opened, the item that the person liked enough to purchase suddenly goes from a “must have” to “this old thing”. It is absolutely acceptable to compliment your own clothes, especially when you’re wearing them. The next time (or the first time, if you have ugly stuff) that someone says, “I like your sweater”, instead of responding with: “it’s all right, I guess” say: “I love it! The color is fantastic!”
Although I am a spoiled brat and have multiple items in my wardrobe with the tags still on, there are some things that I own that just seeing them brings tears of joy to my eyes. For example, I love the outfit I have on today. I am wearing my too big Michael Kors jeans that a friend bought me a few Christmases ago when I gained weight. They are a constant reminder of my “foray into fatness” and I wear them all the time even though I look like I have a kangaroo pouch. On top, I am sporting my orange (my favorite color) University of Illinois sweatshirt. It has a pocket for my iPhone with a hole sewn in for the headphones. How cool is that? And it is long enough to pull down over the gap in the front of my jeans. Finally, I have on my Steve Madden Girl (I was a girl once) black booties that I discovered in the back of my closet after a two-year hiatus. They are so comfy, that I have no problem walking the 48 steps I take a day without them pinching and abrading.
As a matter of fact, I like this outfit so much, I wore it yesterday too!
My mother, sister, and I are going down to “see” my father today. It has been a VERY long time since all four of us have been together. I am sure that he will be happy to see that we are all still together, albeit a little longer in the tooth since the last time that he saw us…
Although my father was one of the funniest people that I’ve ever know, he did not like to bring undue attention to himself. He preferred to watch from the periphery. That said, when he came up to Potsdam for my college graduation many years ago, he started screaming out of my apartment window, “I never have to come to this town again! Yippee!” I lived above a bar on Potsdam’s excuse for a main street, so needless to say, he DID draw undue attention to himself. Anyone who ever made that six hour trek through the mountains of no-man’s land would surely understand his outburst.
I am relaying this story because life is nothing if not ironic – I applied for a job today up in the Adirondacks – a mere hour south of Potsdam. You may be wondering why someone who is terrified of the snow, hates the cold, and loves cities would apply for a job in a small town that is covered with icicles well in to June. I applied because I WILL NOT GET IT! I will be overqualified. I will be under qualified. I will have too much experience. I will not be experienced enough. I will be too old. I will be too young (well, that one’s not too likely). You get my drift… So, I probably will not be cleaved from my life in Middletown anytime soon.
If by some miracle I get and take this job, my father will have the last laugh. He will not have to pack up the car and drive me there. That honor will fall to my brother-in-law. I am the “gift” that keeps on giving…
