My self esteem is in the shitter. I hate this time of year. I need the sun and some money. God I need the money. And some sort of self worth. I don't got it right now. I want to be brilliant. My kids are sucking the brilliance. Actually they are the brilliance I just showed up to sign permission forms.
I'm cool. I just want to be cooler. I used to have so much more style. I've lost a bit, I want to get it back. It will come. Right? Indeed. My brother and I discussed the power of attractiveness and humor. Are relatively attractive and funny people treated better than those who lack humor and good looks? I think so.
What do you beautiful and funny people think? (I mean it.)
Thursday, February 25, 2010
Tuesday, February 23, 2010
You all have been so kindly commenting. Why thank you. I love the comments. Does anyone know how I can get an email notification for each of your comments. I really need the instant gratification! Really, I just need to know when a new comment shows up without checking in and trying to remember how many had commented an hour earlier! Honestly. How about I get a job? Like a real job, where I have to show up in something other than my pajamas and just because it's 5:00p.m. I can't automatically pour myself an adult beverage.
Lord help my Narcissistic self.
Lord help my Narcissistic self.
Sunday, February 21, 2010
The Aboriginal People SHOULD be pissed. They are NOT having a gay old time.
Did you see it? Did you watch the nonsense? Oh my hell, the Russian Ice Dancing Team just pissed the shit out of me. There has been some controversy over their costumes. Their costumes? That's what we are talking about? What about the actual routine? It sucked, sucked bad. It was like the Flintstones gone bad! Did you see their facial expressions at the end? These are adults and this is their job and they can consciously make those faces at each other and get paid to do it? I know what you are thinking, Olympic athletes are amateurs, they don't get paid. Hell ya', they do. They are RICH! And, how does the Aboriginal leader, whoever he may be have access to Ice dancing and the costumes and routines that are being competed in International Ice Dancing?
I'm so confused. The Russians and their Fred and Wilma outfits which were not well made and totally distracting have gotten a shit load of attention for their lameness. The Aboriginal people are proud. They should be, but they have an inside track to what's going on in Ice Dancing? Really? They know what's going on in this arena? Don't they live in the Outback with no T.V. no radio, no internet? It's shocking! I am so fucking confused.
I love the Olympics but it's got me all in a bunch. I don't get who's who and what's what and what not? I will continue to watch. But WHAT UP!? Off to eat a bloomin' onion, because that's the only thing that will make me feel better.
I'm so confused. The Russians and their Fred and Wilma outfits which were not well made and totally distracting have gotten a shit load of attention for their lameness. The Aboriginal people are proud. They should be, but they have an inside track to what's going on in Ice Dancing? Really? They know what's going on in this arena? Don't they live in the Outback with no T.V. no radio, no internet? It's shocking! I am so fucking confused.
I love the Olympics but it's got me all in a bunch. I don't get who's who and what's what and what not? I will continue to watch. But WHAT UP!? Off to eat a bloomin' onion, because that's the only thing that will make me feel better.
Saturday, February 20, 2010
A couple of things.
Did you read the Wall Street Journal business section (ok, we get the abbreviated version in our Sunday paper) that blogging is passe. Old school. No one wants to read more than one paragraph.
Just when I get something, it's considered out of touch, no longer cool, I SUCK. Fer reals?! I don't Twitter. Don't even know how to Twitter. Don't want to Twitter. The Man in My Life finds all of this ridiculous. Twittering, blogging, Facebook...tiresome, ridiculous, overly overt. But wait, blogging? I like you people. I think you are smart and funny and smart. I'm not giving up. I've lived long enough to see the cycle. It happens.
Guess what Twitter won't be forever. Twitter is weird.
Second and totally off base... she who is my 12 year old saw a taxi driver smoking in cigarette in his taxi. Gross. We live in Utah. Only a few of us smoke and those of who dream to smoke are smoking cloves.
But just gross. If I owned that cab company, you would not be allowed to smoke in the cab. We have money to make damn it.
Allright and Amen. And then see ya' later.
Did you read the Wall Street Journal business section (ok, we get the abbreviated version in our Sunday paper) that blogging is passe. Old school. No one wants to read more than one paragraph.
Just when I get something, it's considered out of touch, no longer cool, I SUCK. Fer reals?! I don't Twitter. Don't even know how to Twitter. Don't want to Twitter. The Man in My Life finds all of this ridiculous. Twittering, blogging, Facebook...tiresome, ridiculous, overly overt. But wait, blogging? I like you people. I think you are smart and funny and smart. I'm not giving up. I've lived long enough to see the cycle. It happens.
Guess what Twitter won't be forever. Twitter is weird.
Second and totally off base... she who is my 12 year old saw a taxi driver smoking in cigarette in his taxi. Gross. We live in Utah. Only a few of us smoke and those of who dream to smoke are smoking cloves.
But just gross. If I owned that cab company, you would not be allowed to smoke in the cab. We have money to make damn it.
Allright and Amen. And then see ya' later.
Tuesday, February 16, 2010
You like me, you really, really like me. Or not.
So I was wondering how to drum up some viewers? listeners? lookers? voyeurs? Whatever, just check me out? Well guess what happened. Met one. Met a viewer. She recognized me. Via my picture. My really lame, self-taken picture. Have another drink kinda picture. She wasn't scary. She was nice and normal and nice.
We talked. I liked her. I think she liked me. It was cool.
So, there are three still three. I love you three. Thanks, would you recognize me on the street? I am memorizing your faces so that I will know you on the street. I must travel to see you but who knows, stranger things have happened.
Shout out to my followers, you make me happy!
We talked. I liked her. I think she liked me. It was cool.
So, there are three still three. I love you three. Thanks, would you recognize me on the street? I am memorizing your faces so that I will know you on the street. I must travel to see you but who knows, stranger things have happened.
Shout out to my followers, you make me happy!
Wednesday, February 10, 2010
Where are you?
When do you give up? When is a post not worth posting? I want followers. I am a Narcissist. I expect followers. How do you drum them up? What's your strategy? Give it up,fellow Narcissists. Tell me how you get folks to read your drivel? It's affecting my self-esteem which is luckily being held aloft by my Narcissistic personality. I'm okay. Are you? Bring it boys and girls. Let's talk.
Saturday, February 6, 2010
Jealous.
I want to be in Florida. Hanging with The Man in My Life. No kids. KIDS! Just reading magazines, books, each other's palms. I want to be away from reality.
Thursday, February 4, 2010
Do you think these questions might show up on the Census?
Did you know that because I live in the West, I am more likely to have breast implants? If I lived in the Southeast I'd be rockin' some serious derriere implants.
Now, I do not have breast implants and have mentioned in a past post I quite like what The Good Lord (or G*D, that's a shout out to my friend over at wifemotherexpletive.blogspot.com , she'll get it) gave me. Derriere implants, are you serious? Buying jeans is tough enough, petite in length, but not "Mom jeans" but not so low that I risk showing off the fact that I have birthed 3 large children. I mean really, we need to add extra room for my derriere implants so that making buying said jeans puts me directly into the funny farm?! Luckily, I don't live in Florida, this will not be a problem.
I am at risk for being tempted by other invasive procedures such as Liposuction and an Eyelid Lift, you know because I live in the West. Tummy tuck, no. The folks in Alabama, Louisiana and Mississippi want that more than me. They live in the Southeast. It's what they do.
Now on the minimally invasive front, Botox, soft-tissue fillers and a random chemical peel might get me through my 40's. That's how we Westerners roll. What about Botoxing my ass, Chemical peeling my boobs and then just adding some soft-tissue filler to my tummy.....that way I am just accentuating what I already have going. Why stop this train from wrecking, I'm well on my way!
So, is the Census 2010 compiling this information? I mean this is important shit. We need to know. When the Census Man/Woman comes knocking on my door, I'm speaking the truth. Leave my body alone. It rocks!
Because if I didn't you would have been disappointed.
Monday, February 1, 2010
"The coolest people on Earth" don't seem that cool.
We watched the Grammy's last night. Of all the award shows, it's my favorite. Maybe because it moves faster than the others, maybe because there is more entertainment. I don't know what it is. For the most part, it was really lame.
Sick of Taylor Swift much? I am really tired of that child. We love Stevie Nicks, she's cool. But singing with Taylor Swift. Uggh. It was painful.
Green Day. Awesome. I would travel to New York to see American Idiot on Broadway. They just come off as cool. They are probably dicks but they seem cool.
Pink was incredible. Loved the silk ribbon acrobatics. Way better than the Beyonce's dancing. I usually like Beyonce but those head spins, where she was whipping her hair around were just plain ridiculous.
The act with Eminem and Drake and Lil' Wayne could have been interesting but unfortunately the whole thing had to be censored. I kept asking The Man in My Life if something was wrong with the television. Seriously is loses it's effect when you can't hear the words.
Quentin Tarantino looks like Elvis Presley. And his attempt to sound hip and urban was just embarrassing. He makes us 40 year old white folks look ridiculous.
I'm kinda thinking I want those two and a half hours of my life back. But you can guarantee I will watch again next year. Narcissist and Hypocrite.
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