30 September 2008
Google Me This, Batman
As I was driving around town like a woman on crack trying to get ready for our impending road trip, I popped in an audiotape of "Toy Story" for Miss Peawhistle. The very first line read was, "Do you like your toys?" To which she enthusiastically responded, "Why, yes I do!" Why is my child 65?
To the three of you who have expressed intense concern over the previous post's "project" and also expressed an interest in my describing it to you henceforth and immediately: the project does not need to be described as the project is now in the works. Describing it won't be nearly as fulfilling as actually seeing it. When it's presentable I will let you know; until then, you'll just have to dream about my brilliance. For those who are concerned with my potential future within the American justice system, my counselors have agreed that the most wrath I would invoke would be a cease and desist order, which is plausibly bearable, aside from my certain torrent of tears. By the way, not invited to my scary vision: Heidi. Because she never found my crazy very funny, even when she lived with me. DON'T TRY TO DENY IT, HEIDI.
I nearly gave my four-year-old a coronary in an attempt to obtain as many McDonald's Happy Meal Star Wars bobblehead figurines as possible within a two-week framework. Would you call that irresponsible parenting? Or would you call it instilling a sense of stick-to-it-iveness and going the extra mile for your goals? The first you say? Well, too bad. My blog and I pick the second. I'm a wonderful, selfless parent! Hooray for me!
Like others, I'm fascinated by who stops by here, but more than anything which google searches led them here. (FYI, there is an uncomfortable number of people who find my blog searching for "freaky moms." I hope they haven't been too disappointed.) For your enlightenment, I will steal the idea of several other bloggers and list just a few of the google searches that have led others here.
* "the neighbors hate me" (you too??)
* "beautiful moms ugly babies" (I usually get the opposite; at least my kids are cute)
* "do i have delusions of grandeur" (If you have to ask....)
* "abby my sister the ugly" (...Excuse me? I better not know who's asking.)
* "southern food sucks" (A.MEN.)
* "does beer make you funnier" (Depends. How funny were you before?)
* "funny looking baby syndrome" (So I'm not the only one then?)
* "something you learned about parents that surprised you" (Before or after becoming one?)
* "how to talk to a cute kid in your class" (I got nothin' kid. I can't even explain how I got married.)
* "my wrist hurts finkelstein test" (NOOO! Don't do it!!)
And my absolute favorite:
* "how to frost a dora cake" (Good luck with that! Send photos!)
To the three of you who have expressed intense concern over the previous post's "project" and also expressed an interest in my describing it to you henceforth and immediately: the project does not need to be described as the project is now in the works. Describing it won't be nearly as fulfilling as actually seeing it. When it's presentable I will let you know; until then, you'll just have to dream about my brilliance. For those who are concerned with my potential future within the American justice system, my counselors have agreed that the most wrath I would invoke would be a cease and desist order, which is plausibly bearable, aside from my certain torrent of tears. By the way, not invited to my scary vision: Heidi. Because she never found my crazy very funny, even when she lived with me. DON'T TRY TO DENY IT, HEIDI.
I nearly gave my four-year-old a coronary in an attempt to obtain as many McDonald's Happy Meal Star Wars bobblehead figurines as possible within a two-week framework. Would you call that irresponsible parenting? Or would you call it instilling a sense of stick-to-it-iveness and going the extra mile for your goals? The first you say? Well, too bad. My blog and I pick the second. I'm a wonderful, selfless parent! Hooray for me!
Like others, I'm fascinated by who stops by here, but more than anything which google searches led them here. (FYI, there is an uncomfortable number of people who find my blog searching for "freaky moms." I hope they haven't been too disappointed.) For your enlightenment, I will steal the idea of several other bloggers and list just a few of the google searches that have led others here.
* "the neighbors hate me" (you too??)
* "beautiful moms ugly babies" (I usually get the opposite; at least my kids are cute)
* "do i have delusions of grandeur" (If you have to ask....)
* "abby my sister the ugly" (...Excuse me? I better not know who's asking.)
* "southern food sucks" (A.MEN.)
* "does beer make you funnier" (Depends. How funny were you before?)
* "funny looking baby syndrome" (So I'm not the only one then?)
* "something you learned about parents that surprised you" (Before or after becoming one?)
* "how to talk to a cute kid in your class" (I got nothin' kid. I can't even explain how I got married.)
* "my wrist hurts finkelstein test" (NOOO! Don't do it!!)
And my absolute favorite:
* "how to frost a dora cake" (Good luck with that! Send photos!)
24 September 2008
Ah, Society's Norms: I Hardly Knew Ye
Holy crap, people! I neglect my Google Reader for two days and I come back to 36 unread posts! What in the name of Bill Clinton is going on here? I just spent the last hour catching up, each time expecting to run across that one nutjob-jerk who decided to put out 18 posts in 24 hours. Turns out everyone I know just wrote one-to-two posts per day. That's not nearly as exciting as I'd anticipated, and here I got my panties in a bunch over nothing. Who am I going to yell at now? Quit posting so much, people! I have a life you know! Obviously!
Here's a tidbit I was greeted with on Comcast's news feed today; I'll let you pick out the one glaring word that makes this statement unfathomable: "Former 'Idol' Clay Aiken tells People magazine that he could no longer hide his homosexuality." Let me just get the obvious over with here and ask, was he even trying?
Speaking of Clay Aiken, a few women, including Stephanie and Kristen, and I were playing Catchphrase, a game where you get a word or phrase, describe it, and the others guess. My phrase was "Clay Aiken."
Me: "That idiot from American Idol."
My team: "Ryan Seacrest! Simon Cowell!"
Me: "No, a singer."
Stephanie: "Clay Aiken!"
Ta-da.
I was going to post something about a website I've had an idea for for a while now--an idea that left me completely in stitches over my brilliant sense of humor. However, the more I thought about posting about it, the more I decided I would look incredibly insane doing it. And that while I might be laughing, everyone else would likely be staring at their computer screens in horror, wondering which authorities they should notify first. I considered asking someone like Stephanie if my attempt at humor would translate to anyone else outside of my own brain, but her brother's in town so she's busy thinking about someone besides me for once. It's a shame though--it cracks me up even thinking about it. It was going to have photoshopped pictures, music, a FAQ section, and everything. Oh well. Some crazy things are best left unexplored. NOW DON'T YOU FEEL BAD FOR SUPPRESSING MY CREATIVE GENIUS?!
Here's a tidbit I was greeted with on Comcast's news feed today; I'll let you pick out the one glaring word that makes this statement unfathomable: "Former 'Idol' Clay Aiken tells People magazine that he could no longer hide his homosexuality." Let me just get the obvious over with here and ask, was he even trying?
Speaking of Clay Aiken, a few women, including Stephanie and Kristen, and I were playing Catchphrase, a game where you get a word or phrase, describe it, and the others guess. My phrase was "Clay Aiken."
Me: "That idiot from American Idol."
My team: "Ryan Seacrest! Simon Cowell!"
Me: "No, a singer."
Stephanie: "Clay Aiken!"
Ta-da.
I was going to post something about a website I've had an idea for for a while now--an idea that left me completely in stitches over my brilliant sense of humor. However, the more I thought about posting about it, the more I decided I would look incredibly insane doing it. And that while I might be laughing, everyone else would likely be staring at their computer screens in horror, wondering which authorities they should notify first. I considered asking someone like Stephanie if my attempt at humor would translate to anyone else outside of my own brain, but her brother's in town so she's busy thinking about someone besides me for once. It's a shame though--it cracks me up even thinking about it. It was going to have photoshopped pictures, music, a FAQ section, and everything. Oh well. Some crazy things are best left unexplored. NOW DON'T YOU FEEL BAD FOR SUPPRESSING MY CREATIVE GENIUS?!
17 September 2008
Autumn Cleaning
I just looked at my email inbox and I had 230+ messages in it. Most of the messages were from family and friends who I was supposed to respond to for one reason or another--looking at them was making me feel guilty for never getting to them. Then I realized with relief that almost all of them are now obsolete. Into the archives you go 230+ messages! Hooray! I figure those people I just banished from my sight pretty much know they're not getting a response by now and they have come to grips with it. Heaven knows I have. I have two messages in my inbox now, only one of which needs a response before the end of the year. Go me!
I found this among the messages that I'd meant to throw up on my blog back when it was popular to do so but which I'd totally forgotten about. So you're getting it now that it's totally passé.
We all know what I think of my (and everyone else's) kids. Naturally, I was curious to know what my kid thought of me (not that it would change anything of course):
1. What is something mom always says to you?
"It's lunch time." (Seriously, when isn't it lunch time?)
2. What makes mom happy?
A smile
3. What makes mom sad?
[When I'm] bad.
4. How does mom make you laugh?
Making funny faces
5. What was mom like as a child?
A baby (smart, this one)
6. How old is mom?
5 (nevermind)
7. How tall is mom?
Don't know
8. What is mom's favorite thing to do?
At the computer (Hm.)
9. What does mom do when you're not around?
Get dizzy twirling around (what I actually do in my private time is likely to be a vast disappointment to her)
10. What is mom really good at?
Playing at the piano (aw, thanks kid! *sniff*)
11. What is mom not good at?
Not waking up the baby (Oh, what does she know anyway??)
12. What is mom's job?
Mommy (my kid is more perceptive than your kid)
13. What is mom's favorite food?
Cookies (I need to start snacking in private)
14. What makes you proud of mom?
Playing with the toys
15. What do you and mom do together?
"Big and Little" (a game I've clearly never heard of)
16. How are you and mom the same?
Big (she insists this is precisely what she meant)
17. How are you and mom different?
Kids are little (again, she assured me this was correct, despite her previous answer; she's just a little too deep for me)
18. How do you know mom loves you?
A heart. (Better than "She doesn't," right?)
What a cute kid.
Another email?! Crap! DELETE, DELETE! Ahh, crisis averted.
I found this among the messages that I'd meant to throw up on my blog back when it was popular to do so but which I'd totally forgotten about. So you're getting it now that it's totally passé.
We all know what I think of my (and everyone else's) kids. Naturally, I was curious to know what my kid thought of me (not that it would change anything of course):
1. What is something mom always says to you?
"It's lunch time." (Seriously, when isn't it lunch time?)
2. What makes mom happy?
A smile
3. What makes mom sad?
[When I'm] bad.
4. How does mom make you laugh?
Making funny faces
5. What was mom like as a child?
A baby (smart, this one)
6. How old is mom?
5 (nevermind)
7. How tall is mom?
Don't know
8. What is mom's favorite thing to do?
At the computer (Hm.)
9. What does mom do when you're not around?
Get dizzy twirling around (what I actually do in my private time is likely to be a vast disappointment to her)
10. What is mom really good at?
Playing at the piano (aw, thanks kid! *sniff*)
11. What is mom not good at?
Not waking up the baby (Oh, what does she know anyway??)
12. What is mom's job?
Mommy (my kid is more perceptive than your kid)
13. What is mom's favorite food?
Cookies (I need to start snacking in private)
14. What makes you proud of mom?
Playing with the toys
15. What do you and mom do together?
"Big and Little" (a game I've clearly never heard of)
16. How are you and mom the same?
Big (she insists this is precisely what she meant)
17. How are you and mom different?
Kids are little (again, she assured me this was correct, despite her previous answer; she's just a little too deep for me)
18. How do you know mom loves you?
A heart. (Better than "She doesn't," right?)
What a cute kid.
Another email?! Crap! DELETE, DELETE! Ahh, crisis averted.
Crazy For You
I was watching a TV program the other night about a mummified dinosaur paleontologists discovered with a good deal of its internal organs still intact. They were able to get into its stomach and take samples of the dinosaur’s last meal. This dinosaur, a known herbivore, had a stomach full of plant life. The scientists on the program seemed terribly excited about this saying something to the effect of, “We were surprised to find so much vegetation in his stomach! It’s amazing!” An herbivore dinosaur eating vegetation?! Why, that’s crazy talk!!
Speaking of crazy, if you ever have the opportunity to be interviewed by a psychiatrist, do not, I repeat, DO NOT be a smart-alec. They do not have a sense of humor. In the course of applying for a job I had to take a psychological exam and then discuss my answers with their psychiatrist. I marked “yes” to the question “Do you sometimes have strange thoughts?” Well, who doesn’t have strange thoughts once in a while, right? The answer to that is apparently “everyone who isn’t crazy.” I learned this when the shrink informed me in a round-about way that that is one of their red-flag questions that tell them whether you’re nuts or not. He asked what I meant when I marked yes. I said, “Well, I was just thinking: if God was what we are now, what was the name of his country?” He just stared at me. Then he smiled and jotted some notes into my file. My very permanent file. (I should note here that when I told my oldest brother of my experience, he said I should have instead asked how much Canada weighs. Always the helpful one, he.) Is it any wonder that three years later I was sent back to the psychiatrist to make doubly sure I wasn’t crazy? Yeah. Do NOT be a smart-alec. I really can’t stress that enough, people. FYI, the second time around I was intensely serious with the second psychiatrist (nearly killed me, it did), who informed me I was as mentally sound as anyone; he wrote as much in my file and sent me on my way.
So the next time you’re pondering my mental health and wondering if I should be carefully examined, remember this: one out of two psychiatrists swear I’m not crazy!
Speaking of crazy, if you ever have the opportunity to be interviewed by a psychiatrist, do not, I repeat, DO NOT be a smart-alec. They do not have a sense of humor. In the course of applying for a job I had to take a psychological exam and then discuss my answers with their psychiatrist. I marked “yes” to the question “Do you sometimes have strange thoughts?” Well, who doesn’t have strange thoughts once in a while, right? The answer to that is apparently “everyone who isn’t crazy.” I learned this when the shrink informed me in a round-about way that that is one of their red-flag questions that tell them whether you’re nuts or not. He asked what I meant when I marked yes. I said, “Well, I was just thinking: if God was what we are now, what was the name of his country?” He just stared at me. Then he smiled and jotted some notes into my file. My very permanent file. (I should note here that when I told my oldest brother of my experience, he said I should have instead asked how much Canada weighs. Always the helpful one, he.) Is it any wonder that three years later I was sent back to the psychiatrist to make doubly sure I wasn’t crazy? Yeah. Do NOT be a smart-alec. I really can’t stress that enough, people. FYI, the second time around I was intensely serious with the second psychiatrist (nearly killed me, it did), who informed me I was as mentally sound as anyone; he wrote as much in my file and sent me on my way.
So the next time you’re pondering my mental health and wondering if I should be carefully examined, remember this: one out of two psychiatrists swear I’m not crazy!
15 September 2008
A Quick Plea
Overheard in Primary yesterday:
Primary President: Do any of you kids have any experiences with praying?
Senior Primary Girl: I do! I once prayed to Heavenly Father that I would get a Wii for Christmas and I DID!
Small request to parents: is there any possible way that you can teach your children the difference between God and Santa Claus? Thank you so very much.
[Fun times warning! I love this video. "I can see Russia from my house!"]
Primary President: Do any of you kids have any experiences with praying?
Senior Primary Girl: I do! I once prayed to Heavenly Father that I would get a Wii for Christmas and I DID!
Small request to parents: is there any possible way that you can teach your children the difference between God and Santa Claus? Thank you so very much.
[Fun times warning! I love this video. "I can see Russia from my house!"]
10 September 2008
Be Funny or Else!
OK, here's the deal. As many of you now know, a young couple, Christian and Stephanie Nielson, barely survived a serious airplane crash and now have extensive burns over a good portion of their bodies. A recovery fund has been set up to help pay for medical expenses and the care of their children while they remain in the hospital for a number of months. An explosion of concern has swept the blogging community, including at one blog I stalk, Navel Gazing at Its Finest. As a fund raising gesture, Navel Gazing, et al, is creating a blog book with proceeds to be donated to the recovery fund for the Nielsons. Entry into the blog book is a contest of sorts, the details to be found here. Basically, they're looking for funny stuff. And by stuff, they mean blog entries, previously posted or not, less than 1500 words. The deadline for submissions is September 30th; all entries can be emailed to sometimeslifeisfunny at gmail dot com. If your post is selected you make it into the book and you then have to buy said book. Also, if the post you submit is new material (unposted) and it happens to be the funniest thing she's read by this Friday, you get $50 from Navel Gazing. So by all means, write away.
Here's my dilemma. First problem: the submissions have to be funny. If they're not deemed funny enough they'll be rejected. Second problem: it's pretty hard to be funny on demand and with a deadline. While I don't need the $50, I would love to submit something new, but I can't think of a frickin' thing to write about. That leaves something I've already published, except I have no idea what's funny in my blog and what isn't. The things that have cracked me up have gone largely unnoticed and things I found only mildly amusing or a complete failure were met with a several compliments. Clearly, I'm only funny on accident (which is about par for the course).
So to all three of my beloved readers I submit this plea to you: if you had to choose a favorite post (i.e. one you found the least offensive to your sensibilities) what would it be? Failing finding anything remotely funny in my archives, what would you have me write about? And while you're at it, submit something of your own. You could get published in a book! W00t!
Note: photos are discouraged, which means posts that rely heavily upon photos (like the Dora cake post) would probably be rejected simply based upon that alone.
2nd Note: I can rewrite any post to make it fit the requirements and any post that is not standalone I can make standalone--mostly this works because all of my posts are under the word count limit so I have room to make necessary story adjustments. Given that, have any suggestions? Any funny stories you and I have that I've never written about?
Here's my dilemma. First problem: the submissions have to be funny. If they're not deemed funny enough they'll be rejected. Second problem: it's pretty hard to be funny on demand and with a deadline. While I don't need the $50, I would love to submit something new, but I can't think of a frickin' thing to write about. That leaves something I've already published, except I have no idea what's funny in my blog and what isn't. The things that have cracked me up have gone largely unnoticed and things I found only mildly amusing or a complete failure were met with a several compliments. Clearly, I'm only funny on accident (which is about par for the course).
So to all three of my beloved readers I submit this plea to you: if you had to choose a favorite post (i.e. one you found the least offensive to your sensibilities) what would it be? Failing finding anything remotely funny in my archives, what would you have me write about? And while you're at it, submit something of your own. You could get published in a book! W00t!
Note: photos are discouraged, which means posts that rely heavily upon photos (like the Dora cake post) would probably be rejected simply based upon that alone.
2nd Note: I can rewrite any post to make it fit the requirements and any post that is not standalone I can make standalone--mostly this works because all of my posts are under the word count limit so I have room to make necessary story adjustments. Given that, have any suggestions? Any funny stories you and I have that I've never written about?
06 September 2008
The Truth and Consequences
| You Are Japan |
 You get along well with others. You don't openly criticize or insult anyone. You like to co-operate, and conformity is fairly important to you. You love your culture and country. But when you're by yourself, you may have some very eccentric hobbies or interests! |
Um...what? And what is with the underwear?
On to different things that won't keep me awake at night now. Or not.
The other night I was watching "The Daily Show." Jon Stewart was, naturally (and not without reason) mocking America's Eye Candy, Sarah Palin. But one thing that he has beaten into the ground for several days in a row is Palin's daughter and that daughter getting herself knocked up and such. Stewart's main horse that he's been beating to death is Palin's phrasing of the situation. Supposedly, Palin said her daughter, Buttons, was given a choice of outcomes for this pregnancy and she "chose" to marry her rednecked boyfriend and keep the baby. It is the issue of choice that has Stewart, et al, up in arms. Palin, the Republican that she is, voted to make abortion illegal (even in cases of rape, if that gives you any indication of her seriousness on the issue) in the state of Alaska. And yet, Stewart rants, her own daughter, Brazil, was given a choice as to what to do with her own pregnancy. What pisses me off here, ladies and gentlemen, is Stewart's assumption of the definition of "choice." Since when is keeping the baby or aborting it the only choice a pregnant woman can possibly have, and by making abortion illegal completely and totally strips that woman's choices from her? Let me tell you Jon Stewart (he's a big fan of the blog), that the choice Buxom was given was that of keeping the baby and marrying its idiot father, or putting the baby up for adoption. Yes, adoption, that old 1950s concept that seems to have died out in the last week or something. What is so wrong with adoption? How many parents out there who can't have children would kill for a baby, or at least fork over $100,000 for one? A lot, I can tell you that. Bratwurst had every right to choose to make the situation right by making her little family complete or giving another couple the same opportunity.
The whole issue of abortion and it being called pro-choice by its proponents gets me in a tizzy every time. Now, I'm not the police. I'm not personally going to stop you from having an abortion. However, quit acting like you should have every right on this earth to destroy your fetus if you so wish and if anyone says you shouldn't that they are attempting to deprive you of your ability to choose. People's ability to confuse "choices" with "consequences" never ceases to amaze me. The choice in this situation came when you chose to have (likely unprotected) sex. You chose to do so, even after knowing full well that pregnancy could be an outcome of that choice. The consequence (not choice) of that decision is the pregnancy. Having an abortion is an attempt to avoid the consequence of your choice. However, there is good news! You get another choice, like what to do with the baby once your pregnancy is over! You can marry your idiot boyfriend and keep the baby, you can not marry your idiot boyfriend and keep the baby, you can marry your idiot boyfriend and put the baby up for adoption, you can not marry your idiot boyfriend and put the baby up for adoption, or you can leave the baby with a bunch of nice looking firefighters at the local fire station and walk away. All of the above are legal choices (the last depending upon which state you live in). Huzzah for you! Look at all the choices you get to have, even after suffering through the obligatory consequence of your inital stupid decisions!
I know there are extenuating circumstances in this world that provide exceptions to every rule, and certainly abortion has its extenuating circumstances. My problem with people starts when every single one of them assumes that they are the exception to that rule every time. I don't care if you think you need an abortion so you won't look too fat in your wedding dress you empty-headed baffoon, that's not a good enough excuse. Abortion is and always will be a horrible option. A likely option nonetheless, yes, but a terrible one. Try to start treating it like that and perhaps people will quit getting angry with you for exceeding your quota of idiotic life-altering choices.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
