um, what?

Today I was found by someone who googled:

“spectacular std pretty ricky”

Is this some sort of special language or something?

i’m that bridesmaid

I’m sure you remember all of my ranting and raving about terrible bridesmaids (for the record, they weren’t all  terrible) and the like back before the wedding. You do remember, don’t you? I mean, I only complained about something wedding related every other day.

So, I’m that bridesmaid. The one who doesn’t return calls, or text messages. The one who has had 4 months to go get fitted for her dress and hasn’t yet because she’s so consumed with the goings on in her own life that she can’t seem to share an ounce of her precious time with someone or something else. I’m supposed to get fitted by tomorrow.

In my defense (if I have one, that is) I am on the verge of unemployment. And my schedule is packed tight with activities. Just ask H, I haven’t had a legitimate girl’s night with her in months.

But still, I’m that bridesmaid.

 Update: I got fitted just in the nick of time!

my love for snow and manual vehicles

Lately, the great First State has been teasing me with its weather patterns. It’ll be freezing one day, not so freezing the next and on and on the cycle goes. My personal opinion is that if it’s going to be this cold, it may as well snow. It’s just a waste of cold weather otherwise.

Recently, we’ve had these days where we’ll get a light dusting, maybe an inch if we’re lucky, and then the snow just stops. It’s really quite annoying.

My brother’s girlfriend let me drive her car home from kickboxing the other night. She drives some sort of automatic Chrysler-looking car, I drive a manual Scion xB, and while I know how to drive an automatic car (hello, I learned on one) it is, believe it or not, something that I have to re-learn every time I drive one. Sort of. It’s just that I’m so used to pushing the clutch in, shifting gears, letting the clutch out and easing on the gas, that pushing the gas pedal to make the care move just seems so….simple.

Initially, I did really well. I pulled out of the parking lot and started driving only to have to stop at a red light shortly thereafter. When the light turned green, I hit the gas and it was smooth sailing. That is of course, until the blizzard from hell (oxymoron?) fell upon us.

The snow was coming in so fast and so thick that I could barely see 10 feet in front of me. While trying to sort out my vision, I noticed an odd whining sound coming from the engine, a sound that I’m used to hearing from my manual vehicle when it’s begging me to switch gears. Turns out, I was in first gear. You know how you have the option of being in first or second gear with an automatic, right? No idea why that option is there, but it is.

Anyway, I panicked and my brain automatically shifted into manual drive mode and so there I was, on a busy road in the blizzard of the century constantly tapping the brake pedal with my left foot every 3.5 seconds, thinking that would have some sort of effect on my ability to shift the car into drive. It didn’t. But I was successful at scaring the crap out of my brother’s girlfriend because the whole time I was “tapping the clutch” she was trying not to panic over the fact that there were other cars around that could mow us over.

The blizzard continued our whole trek back to my apartment which made it very difficult to drive around a roundabout.

It of course stopped about a half hour later after it decided that a light dusting of snow was all we really needed and that no state of emergency would be necessary.

Also, I have a brand new appreciation for automatic vehicle drivers. Driving that simple requires lots of concentration.

the one where I ramble about many things

Instead of writing 4 different posts I’ll just jam this all into one:

* I love Eric Church. As an artist, I mean. His music is great, he’s quite entertaining in his live performances and he seems to be (because we’re such great friends and all) really down to earth. You know, one of those ‘I’m not gonna let the fame get to me’ famous people. So since I have a myspace and so does he, (It’s fate I tell you!) I sent him a quick message telling him about how fabulous I think he is, the fact that he needs to spend more time touring in the States instead of Canada (because, well, duh) and also about my mini-junior-high-JTT-like crush on him. (I know the parentheses are getting out of hand, but I would like to point out that he is oh-so-much cooler and hotter than JTT, ahem) So guess what? He actually sent me a message back! Like he really typed it out all by himself, and I know this because he was specific to the message that I sent him. He signed it EC, which is like, totally cool and stuff and I know you’re all just jealous because Eric and I are totally BFF now and you want in on this totally exclusive friendship. So anyway…..

*You know it’s cold outside when the water bottle that you accidently left in your car last night is in fact an ice bottle when you go to take a drink out of it the next morning.

*This is my last Friday ever with Big Monster Company. As of next Wednesday, I will join the ranks of the unemployed because not one person that I have given my resume to has hired me. Not one. Hey Eric, if you actually do read this and decide that you need a personal assistant or something, email me because I need a job, and I’ve decided that you do need a personal assistant, so this will work out great! (Also, it’d be great if you commented on this post to prove that you actually did send me that message on myspace, just in case there are any unbelievers out there.)

*Something really funny happened/was said last night while I was hanging out with my hubby, brother and his girlfriend, but I can’t remember what it is so you’ll just have to survive on the knowledge that I thought it was very funny. So you can laugh in spite of the lack of content, ok?

can you tell me how?

Someone found me by googling:

“Getting redishness out of colored hair”

First of all, I would like to point out that this person is like, my long lost twin as ‘redishness’ is a word I’m very likely to conjure up in my head.

Second, if you find out how, let me know. I’m sick of the red!

haven’t done one of these in a while

1. Do you like the looks and content of your blog?

Ugh, I can NEVER decide on a look. I change it frequently. As far as content goes, I guess I like it. I mean, I write it.

2. Does your family know about your blog?

They should, I talk about it all the time!

3. Can you tell your friends about your blog?

yeah, I’m always trying to give the address out.

4. Do you just read the blogs of those who comment on your blog?

Nope, I read lots of blogs, even more than what I have on my blogroll, they’re just not worthy yet ;) (read: I’m entirely too lazy to think about adding someone to my blogroll)

5. Did your blog positively affect your mind?

I suppose, it’s an outlet to share views and ideas, and really just vent. So sure.

6. What does the number of visitors to your blog mean?

It means ___ # of people visited me today, thanks! But why don’t you ever freaking comment?!

7. Do you imagine what other bloggers look like?

Not really.

8. Do you think blogging has any real benefit?

It depends on the blogger, but generally I would say no. It’s mostly just a bunch of people who have “Look at Me!” syndrome. And yes, I’m referring to myself here as well, so chill out.

9. Do you think that the blogosphere is a stand alone community separated from the real world?

yes, and I think those people need therapy.

10. Do some political blogs scare you? Do you avoid them?

Nope, I have one.

11. Do you think criticizing your blog is useful?

the blog-yes. me-no. Although, if you don’t like my blog, why are you reading/commenting in the first place?

12. Have you ever thought what would happen to your blog in case you died?

Actually, yes Mona Monica over at The Girl Who wrote an excellent post once about a kid who died, but his MySpace account was still active and it got me thinking about what I’m leaving behind on this little thingy here.

13. Which blogger has had the greatest impression on you?

Gosh, I don’t know. I read ‘em all because I love ‘em all.

14. Which blogger do you think is the most similar to you?

Not sure

15. Name a song you want to listen to.

What a random question. I really like “Stupid Boy” by Keith Urban.

blue-man’s disease

“Are you ok, babe?” I asked.

When I looked at my husband initially he just looked really drained. Exhausted, like he’d been working in the coal mines all day or something.

“I dunno” he replied “I do feel kind of weird.”

“Oh my goodness, is your face (insert long pause in disbelief here) blue?!”

“Blue? Why would it be…..you know, I think it is.”

Upon further inspection we discovered that my husband’s face was in fact blue. Blue! You know, one of the primary colors?

In typical me fashion, I panicked and strongly suggested (you can interpret this whichever way you please) that he immediately go to the emergency room. Since, to me, this qualified as an emergency. Normal human beings are not blue, you know.

In typical husband fashion, he suggested that we calm down and not panic about this, it could be something little.

So what did I do? I did what any self-respecting, mature, adult would do; I called my mom.

“He’s blue?” 

“Yes mom, blue. Don’t you think he should go to the emergency room?”

“Well, no. Why don’t you call your Dr. first and see what she says.”

Oh. Right. The voice of reason speaks. I could have thought of that.

“He’s blue?”

“Yes, it’s just around his eyes, a little on his forehead, and on his cheekbones. Do you know what it could be?”

After answering 80,000,000,000,000,000,000 questions and confirming his very minor symptoms, she says to me:

“I’m completely stumped. If it gets worse or he gets a fever or faints or something, I would suggest you go to the emergency room, other than that I would just ride it out and see how he’s feeling tomorrow morning.”

Yeah, because I can sleep while my husband is on the verge of death.

“Alright then, we’ll keep you posted.” Click

Shortly thereafter, he went to take a shower, he thought it would make him feel better. Surprisingly, after he emerged from the shower, he wasn’t as blue anymore.

“I think maybe, I was just cold, it is freezing in here, you know.”

“I’m sure being cold wouldn’t make you turn blue.”

“Yuh-huh, you know those extreme mountain-climbers? They turn blue all the time from the cold.”

“Ok, well whatever.”

After an hour or two:

“Hey babe, can you fix my dinner plate, I do have blue-man’s disease and all; I could die.”

in case you care

I updated my 100 things.

Go ahead, read ‘em, you know you want to.

did i say anonymous?

“I think your eyebrows look great!” she said

It took me a second to figure out what she was talking about, but then it hit me like a punch thrown from Rocky Balboa in one of those horrible movies he made; she’s reading my blog!

“Oh! Thanks!” I replied. Cue massive blushing, nervous nail biting (thank God I had them done!) and the desire to erase everything embarrassing I’ve ever written about myself.

It’s not like I have this illusion that no one reads my blog. In fact, I’m sure that my largest audience is comprised of people I actually know. But for some reason, it’s different when you didn’t necessarily advertise your blog to them. Not that I don’t appreciate extra readers, it just makes me nervous. Like I now have this awful case of performance anxiety.

Then, on Sunday:

“It took me about 2 sentences to realize that it was your blog I was reading. I just knew it was you!”

Another one!

I’m sure they’re linking to me from over at RAV’s blog (he’s like super-popular and all) which I half-expected, but now, it’s like I have to be on my best behavior or something.

Not to worry though, I’m sure I can be just as entertaining if I sugar-coat my experiences.

I’m just kidding by the way, what you see is what you get.

Or something.

hooker eyebrows

Yesterday, I decided that I needed to re-feminize myself. I used to have my nails done, my eyebrows waxed, and in the summertime, get a pedicure, every two weeks. After the wedding, I just didn’t have the initiative to do all of that. It’s slightly on the high-maintenance side, you know?

But considering the sadness that swallowed my day whole yesterday, (embrace the dramatics for my sake, k?) I figured I’d give it a go again.

As soon as I arrived, the owner made a fuss about how much she had missed me, asked how my mom was doing, and so on. Another lady, one who had “worked” on me before, sat me down in the waxing chair and immediately set to work on my eyebrows.  I just wanted them cleaned up a little. I like to keep them on the thicker side, with a nice, subtle, arch. I was, however, on the verge of a uni-brow, not to mention my eyebrows are naturally very thick, so this girl was thrilled to take some wax to my caterpillars.

After some very mild pain and a quick, but not so good glance in the mirror, my eyebrows were done and she sent me off to have my nails done by my favorite guy.

Finally, an hour and a half after walking in, I was leaving to go home.

Once home, I greeted the husband and made my way to the nearest mirror to get a better look at my brows.

“Oh NO!” I yelled

“What, what’s the matter?” asked Hubs

“My eyebrows, they’re so thin, they’re like hooker eyebrows.”

“Hooker eyebrows? What are they? Well, I think they look really good.” husband replied

“You would think hooker eyebrows look good.”

“They’re not hooker eyebrows babe, they look nice, you needed that.”

“Yeah, well.”

At least now I have a new job prospect if nothing else works out by the end of the month.

Wanna see: