me: A Blog

Happy holidays, It’s a few days before Christmas and I’m amazed at the lack of Christmas letters I’ve received. More and more cards are coming with only signatures or maybe a photo. Can we thank Facebook and the other social networking sites for the death of the dreaded Christmas letter? Or did my friends realize, as I have, that really the only way to do Christmas is to start in June when the first decorations pop out at Hobby Lobby; otherwise, it’s the Sunday before Christmas and you realize the only décor at your house is a candy dish and holiday-themed wine glass charms, and there’s no friggin’ way you’re putting up a tree now. With this letter I am not attempting to bring back a tradition that can be as painful as eating Grandma’s fruitcake, but instead realizing I’m just too behind the power curve (i.e. lazy) to write separate cards, address envelopes and go buy stamps. Instead, I’m calling this a letter, putting it here, on my blog, and letting people know it’s there. I’m em...

My friend is a technophile. She has an iPhone and with the click of one tiny button "boom" her Twitter, her Facebook and her Blog all get the same thing. Hell, sometimes she includes a text message and an email for good measure. Me, I am so far from techno. I'm techNO savvy. It takes me 10 minutes to remember my blog password. God forbid my crack ever goes missing - the password keeper in that is an amazing thing. Of course I don't use it, it's another techNO for me. But, once I figure it out, I will. I promise. Then the God forbid statement will definitely kick in. I am doing the happy dance, however, because I figured out how to dial my cell phone for a conference call w/out dialing my cell phone. The contacts application is an amazing thing. As is the mute button. I'm "working" right now. Sitting in on a conference call while Nine Inch Nails plays in the background, margarita is next to me and I'm bitching on a blog. Work should be...

This 2010 shit has got to go. This year is barely two months - or almost three months, depending on your perspective - gone and I am done - DONE - with it. Life better perk up fast or I am going to be really pissed off.

I don't think I can do a blog post today. Complete sentences are not my forte today. Jell-O has replaced any brain matter I may have had. But I'm quite OK with that. I think it would be quite the experience to travel through life too dumb and oblivious to how dumb and oblivious I am. Maybe that's the true meaning of life? Secret to happiness? Nirvana? Seriously, think about it. The hardest part about being vapid is knowing it. Having knowledge of your own lack of intelligence, zest for life, brightness, IQ, etc., takes all the fun out of it. If you are truly clueless, truly don't care that C comes after B, imagine the possibilities.

Stress is really stressing me out. Normally when I feel stressed it's for a reason. A reason. Not just because. Lately, it's stress "just because" and I am frantically trying to find the reason for it. I'm not being successful with that and that too is stressing me out. There's a sense of foreboding but also a sense of unease (which is pretty close on the synonym scale to foreboding, I know) and a sense of dread (again, I know) and a sense of pressure....OK, you get the point. I'm pretending it's not there. Sort of like when your grandma farts and stinks up Thanksgiving dinner. Everyone just pauses, maybe clears their throat, sips their wine and continues like no one's hair just got curled. That's where I am right now. Stuck in the middle of turkey dinner with a gassy old woman. Of course there's school (always a strain) and work (ditto) and money (hahahaha)a and everything else that simmers in my head. But I have added something to the po...

Summer is over, or so it would appear as I look out my window and see clouds and know it's an autumnal 57 degrees. What a word, autumnal. No one I know ever uses that word in real conversation. Seemed appropriate here though. Autumnal... hmmm... School starts tomorrow and I have a sense of dread going into it. Anytime the professor sends an email the Friday before class that basically says "Hold on to your hats, it's gonna be a bumpy ride" I get a tad nervous. He calls the course demanding and challenging. Crap! I really am not in the mood for demanding and challenging at the moment. But I've read 3 of the 30 pages I'm supposed to read by Wednesday. The discussion board has due dates for every post and it appears I am going to be a busy gal. Crapola. I'm still feeling restless about me. I want to do something but I don't know what that something is. I don't even know if it has to be something important or mundane. Maybe I just need a t...

I view email and texting as forms of drunken sex. Drunken sex is the sex you would have if your sober sense of self would let you let loose. Whether it's trying a new position or a new partner, drunken sex opens up a world of possibilities, thanks to too many vodkas. When you're 3 sheets to the wind, who cares if your panties are revolving on the ceiling fan of some stranger's bedroom? It's when the deed is done, and he's passed out that the sober sense of self goes "Holy shit! What the hell is that?!" and you tiptoe out as quietly and quickly as possible. If need be, sacrificing your underwear in the process. When it comes to email - and especially texting - it's much too easy to let loose. Fingers go wild on the keyboard when the glow of the screen is all you can see. That glow is the cyberspace equivalent of too many vodkas. Hurtful words are easier typed than said. Propositions and profanity flow more freely. And it's only when you hear the ...