1.Have you guys ever heard that old Meatloaf song that goes “I would do anything for love?” What a lovely song. Very moving. It really pulls on the heart strings, you know? There’s few things in life that are more special than knowing the person you’re sharing your life with is willing to do anything for your love. It’s all great until the next line of the song, “but I won’t do that.” Um……… wait. Hold on. What? You’d do anything… but you won’t do that. I mean, does anybody actually know the ONE thing that Meatloaf won’t do for love? Is it wax his hairy nipples? Share his last piece of pineapple pizza? Start wiping his ass back to front? What the hell is it? I.must.know.
(Anyone else suddenly craving meatloaf for dinner?)
2.One of my cats has serious allergy issues and gets “hot spots” on occasion. (Itchy, raw patches that get inflamed. Ick.) She despises wearing a cone, so we tried to get creative and make a sort of “recovery bodysuit” so she didn’t have to wear the dreaded cone of shame. We took an old baby onesie my mother-in-law had and cut some holes and sewed some areas and… wam!
(And tell me, Sharon. How did that make you feel?)
Look at her proper collar and flower-shaped button. What a classy lady. Alex had never let us put any sort of clothes on our pets prior to this (he always jokes and says it’s animal abuse) so I was a little obsessed over how cute she looked. I totally get you crazy pet owners who put clothes on their pets. Totally get it.
3.Let’s get to know each other by answering the question below. (I love you guys, so, you know. TELL ME ALL YOUR SECRETS.)
If you could only choose one restaurant to eat at for the rest of your life, which would it be?
My answer would probably be Dunkin Donuts. Bagels and cream cheese are my favorite food. And, uh, who says no to endless amounts of coffee and sugary donuts?
I’m having one of those days where I don’t feel like writing. Or talking. Or being awake and functioning at all. Depression… such a fickle bitch. Creeps up behind you when you least expect it and wraps its Voldemort-esque fingers around your neck and chokes you like a bad scene in one of those Fifty Shades of Grey movies. Except it’s a lot less pleasurable because at least the girl in that scenario is getting something fun out of it. Ya know? I’m forcing myself to write anyways, though, because isn’t that what you’re supposed to do? Slap a smile on, pretend everything is great, and that unicorns are frolicking around your backyard farting out cupcakes? Cupcakes actually sound pretty good right now. Even if they are coming out of something’s ass. I’m pretty sure if I could have any superpower, it would be farting out cupcakes.
I’m still trying to get into posting regularly. I feel like I’m already dropping the ball, but I’ll pick it up. I promise my first born child on it. Okay, not really. Being in a funk makes me a risk-taking rebel. Who knows, maybe I’ll spring an extra shot of sugar-free syrup in my coffee later or eat more than half of a cookie for dessert. You never know what’s coming. I’m just so unpredictable.
Here’s a random silly poll for the week. Yay! Answer honestly – It’s anonymous. I mean, I’m sure I could somehow hunt down your IP and figure out who voted what, but I can barely get my email to work, so no worries. Your secrets will stay hidden!
1.I’ve wandered off the plank and I’m drowning deep in what has to be the worst bout of writer’s block imaginable. It’s rough down here. I’m trying to tread water but my head’s been under so long I’m at the point where I’ve turned into a catatonic vegetable without a functioning brain anymore. And not a good one like a cucumber either, more like a lone asparagus stalk that’s sole purpose is to make your pee smell like sulfuric death. (Am I the only that one that’s completely repulsed by asparagus? Yuck.) Anyways, I want to be here. I miss you guys. I feel like I’ve made a lot of friends on here and I’ve been cheating on you with my real life, which… let’s be honest… is far less fun and interesting. I’ve made a schedule for myself and plan to be here daily to post or read your guy’s posts. It will take me forever to catch up, but it starts today. What have you done to get over writer’s block? Or do you just gorge on a sleeve of Oreos dipped in peanut butter until it goes away?
2.I’m hoping none of you guys were affected by Harvey or Irma. My brother and his girlfriend live in Fort Lauderdale, Fl, so we had some unexpected guests here for about a week. It’s always fun having people stay at your house unexpectedly, not knowing when they’ll be able to leave, while simultaneously eating all of the food in your kitchen. Let me tell you, nothing tips the depression scale more than waking up to enjoy your favorite coffee only to find out your guests have killed the last of your sugar-free creamer. The horror! The madness! You can’t mess with people’s coffee. This is America, god damn it! Really, though… I would have let them stay for however long they needed. I hope if any of your had to evacuate, you had a safe place to go. I’m over hurricane season.
3. I have a random question to ask you guys. I asked Alex this a few nights ago and I’ve asked a few other people since then just to see what their answers would be. We are approaching Halloween, so it’s a fitting question.
– If you died today and could choose one person to haunt for the rest of their life, who would it be and why? (It has to be someone you’ve met in real life, I know the majority of you want to haunt Trump. Also, it doesn’t have to be a scary haunting like you’re Pennywise or something, you could just be a ghost that is annoying as hell.)
Anyone else have an unhealthy relationship with Target? I’m a bit obsessed. I could spend hours walking up and down the aisles, sipping my overpriced Starbucks, and staring at all the bathroom decorations and trying to decide if it’s a good time to redecorate or not. The other day, Alex called me to make sure I was still alive and wondering if he should send a search party because I had been MIA for too long. It’s hard not to get consumed in there. I love it. I really do… but the employees hate me.
Target Cashier: Hi, how are you today? Did you find everything alright?
Me: I’m good, thanks. I found everything I needed. I’m just trying to convince myself to not get a Snickers. Sometimes it takes a lot of effort. I definitely don’t need one. You know what I’m saying?
Target Cashier: *awkward smile* Do you want to sign up for our RedCard today?
Me: No, thanks….. You know, I’m going for the it. Why not? I worked out today. Ate a salad for lunch. Plus… I’m already married. I would be going against nature if I didn’t gain weight and let myself go. So, I’m doing it. The decision is made. I’m about to kill this almond one. It’s only $1 anyways, right? That’s nothing. It’s totally worth it. Ring her up, kind lady.
Target Cashier: Okay.Do you want to donate $1 to end local child hunger?
I like to think I know you guys pretty well, so I’m pretty sure you are all plagued with worry as you fight sleepless nights, eat your feelings, and clutch your kids close while they cry into your shoulder and rub globs of snot onto your prized, limited edition Harry Potter t shirt. But I am here to comfort you with an official report: our cars haven’t been vandalized since my last post. (You thought I was talking about Trump or something equally scary, right?) After spending hundreds of dollars on a home security system and getting the car fixed by someone I was confident wouldn’t ruin it, I figured it wouldn’t happen again. That’s just how life works around here. Shit only happens when you aren’t expecting it. So, go on! Move on with your life! Nothing to report here.
(A pretty mountain river from one of our hikes)
About two weeks ago Alex and I went to the mountains for five days. I’m not going to lie… we did a terrible job planning our trip and solely picked the town because there was a casino and resort there. Great for nighttime, but during the day there was absolutely nothing to do besides outdoorsy stuff. You know, like hiking, biking, rock climbing, fishing, and other things you healthy, active people want to do in the mountains. This is not the case for us. We like our vacations to be lazy, filled with plenty of naps, alcohol, and so much food the thought of walking up a flight of stairs sends us into a panic over the idea of impending crampy doom. The mountains were beautiful though, so we managed to go out daily to try and learn how to do, uh… fitness. Next week’s beach trip is slated to be more our style.
I’m starting a new venture along with blogging (which I really need to do more of,) and writing my novel — Animation. I recently purchased a Wacom drawing tablet and Adobe Animate, and hopefully with hours and weeks of practice and YouTube tutorials (which are really informative, actually.) I’ll actually be able to draw my own mini animation series. It will be a silly/humorous show based off of Benny the Sheep. (The drawing in my blog header.) It’s been really hard to master, but I’m getting better every day and I’m excited to work on the episodes.
(Here’s the first drawing of Chester, who will be one of Benny’s friends.)
Remember when the hardest decision you’d have to face all day was what flavor Kool-Aid you wanted to have? It was an important choice, fueled by the fear that if you didn’t pick the right one it wouldn’t complement the taste of your Flintstone’s vitamins. I ate those like crack when I was a kid. When my mom wasn’t looking I’d crawl onto the counter and steal an entire handful and shove them into my grubby little mouth. She caught me once, and moved them to a place where I couldn’t reach no matter how hard I tried. That was the first time I remember wishing that fire would rain down on her. How dare she do such a thing! The nerve of that woman.
Yesterday Alex and I were having a lengthy conversation about Hot Pockets. I know… wtf, right? We talk about some random shit in my house. Hot Pockets aren’t exempt. When I was a kid, I thought Hot Pockets were the best invention. I even wrote a small report on them for school about their greatness. I thought that they were packaged in something that would, quite literally, keep them hot while they were in your pocket. Great for people who wanted a snack while they were in class or people who couldn’t take a break at work. I was amazed. What a genius idea.
So, I didn’t grow up wanting to be a ballerina or a veterinarian. I grew up wanting to work for whoever made Hot Pockets. My parents wanted me to aim high. So I did.
I love the innocence of childhood. Luckily, I’m surrounded by young nieces and nephews to remind me how great life is when you’re young. Actually, I’m going to leave y’all with a joke my 4-year-old niece told me last weekend that had her rolling around in laughter.
A hippo put on a purple coat.
…….. I wish I was as funny as her.
Also, Happy (late) Mother’s Day to all the Mom’s that read here. Y’all are strong, kickass women. I raise my invisible morning mimosa to you!
I’ve never done this before, but instead of being, you know… productive this morning and writing the post I had planned, I ended up spending two hours reading every.single.post I’ve made since I started this blog. That’s almost two years worth. I was going to write about a funny story from my childhood but for the life of me – I couldn’t remember if I’d posted about it before. I’m worried I’m going to start repeating myself and look like a complete idiot. Have you guys gotten to that point yet? My mind has gone to complete crap. Maybe it’s my age or the long term effect of eating too many cheese balls as a kid, but I’m blaming 4/20 even though I haven’t smoked in years. Yep, definitely the weed’s fault.
So, for the first time ever, I’m going to do a ‘Friday Flashback‘ post and share one from over a year ago. It goes along well with the fact that I’ve been feeling a bit down from having a lack of a life/friends lately. (Why is it so hard to make friends as an adult? I never had this issue when I was younger.)
I recently stumbled upon a blogger who was reviewing a local restaurant right down the road from me. It made me pretty excited, so I posted a comment and tried to connect with her. I really had no intention of meeting this person, I just wanted to tell her how much I agreed with her good review and next time she should get the Bacon & Pimento Cheeseburger because it will give her a mouthgasm. (If you don’t know what Pimento cheese is, you’re not living life.)
Well… she never responded to me. I figured I might come across a bit crazy in my writing, so I thought reaching out to her in an email would clear my name and make her feel more at ease:
I commented on your post recently and I’m worried I came across weird and freaked you out. Don’t be scared. I didn’t want to meet up with you or anything like that. I know I come across a little crazy on my blog… but I assure you I’m more of a “I made my 8-year-old niece try a dog treat crazy” rather than a “I’m going to find your house and harvest your organs crazy.” Speaking of your house, the one on your Bio page is so cute. So is your dog. If you want to be friends, I’m just down the road.
Pretty sure I made it worse. You win some, you lose some right?
Lesson of the Day : If you want to make new friends off the internet, don’t mention living down the road from them and harvesting their organs in the same paragraph.
PS – I promise… I’m really not crazy! Well, not serial killer crazy at least.
I’m not sure if it’s allergies. the weather changing, or something a bit more sinister, but lately I’ve had such a bad migraine I wonder if I’m moments away from my brain exploding and decorating the walls of my home. Which I imagine would be quite painful and life-ending, but who knows, I could be the originator of the next great home design trend. Not that I want other people’s brains to end up on their walls – but maybe red paint thrown against the wall like blood spatter will be the next big thing. That’s something to look forward to, right? Being a trendsetter? There’s always a silver lining if you search hard enough.
I’ve been meaning to pick up the frequency of my posts again this past week, but with family over for Easter and Satan plaguing me with the migraine from hell, I’ve been a bit distracted. I actually didn’t put it together until right now, but maybe there’s a connection. I think I’m being bitch-slapped by the devil on the holiest of holidays. I’m convinced.
Anyways… thanks to everyone for entering the giveaway to win a $20 Amazon gift card. It was fun to see all the yummy food everyone was craving, and exceedingly torturous at the same time for someone who eats a very strict diet. I asked for it, though!
The winner, who was drawn at random is…. zongrik ! The food she was craving at the time she commented was mango slices. Mmmm. Very summery and refreshing. I’d definitely go for that.
(zongrik – email me within a week at email@example.com, and I’ll send the gift card your way!)
Do any of you ever read funny Amazon reviews? They seriously kill me.
Why does it seem like the majority of bloggers are much cooler than the people I meet in person? I’ve said this a few times here, but I’m reiterating because it seems strangely true. I’d rather fall ass-first into a dildo factory or have someone crap in my hand at a Broadway show and be forced to give a standing ovation than meet random schmucks in person. So, because I love you guys, and because the weather has been hot and sunny and putting this negative Nancy in a good mood, I wanted to do a small Amazon gift card giveaway this week. I mean, who doesn’t want a free $20 to Amazon? They have just about everything. (And I can just email it out, so you don’t have to worry about me showing up at your doorstep with a meat pie made of roadkill I scraped off my driveway.)
I’m just doing this for fun, so the only thing you need to do in order for a chance to win is answer the question below in the comment section. You can enter up until Tuesday night 04/18 at 11:59pm EST. I’ll post the winner on Wednesday morning. If you have Amazon in whatever country you live in – you are eligible to win.
(Benny D. Sheep and the cat’s butt are not included in the giveaway. If you follow me on Twitter, Benny is the smaller version of the huge sheep I found in Kroger the other day. Isn’t he cute?)
Maybe one day I’ll actually make some sort of money of this blog, and I can start doing big giveaways. That would be fun.
Here’s the random question you need to answer in order to enter: If you could eat anything you wanted right now, what would it be?
I feel overwhelmingly stressed lately. This has far surpassed the slight worry over what I’m going to make for dinner or the best way to organize my prized box of multicolored beanie babies that’s hidden away in a locked, temperature controlled storage room on the other side of town. They are worth so much money, they really do deserve the best treatment. I’m deep into the realm of feeling like I’m trapped on the beach and someone is burying me alive under the weight of a thousand pounds of sand. I’m suffocating. The weird part is – nothing has really changed, so I don’t know why it has come on so suddenly. That’s likely the problem – I’m ready for a change that just hasn’t come yet.
So, today I’ve convinced my husband to finally go see Beauty and the Beast with me. And, you know what… I’m throwing caution to the wind. I’m going for the M&Ms. No, fuck it. I’m getting peanut M&Ms. I’m so tired of having to count/measure every single bite that goes into my damn mouth. Why can’t I just be naturally skinny like my siblings? I really got screwed on the gene pool. Being in a constant state of trying to lose weight and work out has me feeling like I’m tiptoeing into crazy town. Why can’t pizza, cupcakes, and a plate of good southern bbq be healthy and rabbit food be what’s killing us? Why, God, WHY? Why do this to us? The inhumanity. (Okay, I’m done with my hissy-fit. Nothing to see here. Carry on.)
The only thing that’s blatantly spiking my anxiety is my cats, so if you’re a cat lover/owner/trainer/whatever, and you have any advice for a situation I’m in – it would be much appreciated. I don’t want to go deep into it on here, but it has to do with cats not getting along/stalking/litter box aggression. If you could message me on Twitter or email me at firstname.lastname@example.org I’ll love you forever and maybe even send you cookies. Or maybe I’ll just eat a cookie in your honor. That’s the same…right?