Stickwithitness

So... I don't blog any better than I journal. Whatev. I kinda banked on that when I started this thing. There have been days when I compose a blog in my brain, beginning to end, and then forget to type it out. And then forget about the blog completely. And the forget about the day completely. It's part of the sickness. Flakiness, eternal symptom of ADD.

I'd like to blame my schedule, but let's face it, I do nothing almost all day, most days. Lately I've been digging into this wedding planning business, and I fail at documenting that too.

There is a post, sitting, waiting patiently, that I need to finish, whether I think I can or not. And I need to finish it before the end of this month. I don't think I owe him that per se. I don't really owe him anything; I owe myself a little therapeutic purge. A real discussion about him and how his life, or lack thereof, still affects me twenty-five years later.

And whether or not one of the memorial candles on the altar will burn for him.

But DAMN I'm Debbie Downer today... I's gonna go back to bed and start this day over in a few hours.
Fair?
Fair.

Revisited Resolutions

So... it's be almost a year since I wrote this post...

Let's see how I did.

Shape up (why should this year be different from every other year of my adult life?).
FAIL...

Fix my problem with "da Benjamins."
Eh, could go either way. I'm getting better, but I don't think it's fixed.

Blog at least once a week.
To be fair, I do have more than 52 posts. Eh, more win than fail.

Meet Him. (No, not that Him. I'm not ready for Him. I mean Mr. Right.)
Win, big ugly beautiful hairy expensive amazing disgustingly wonderful win.

Become something meaningful.
This might be a draw. While I don't doubt I'm something meaningful to someone, I'm still not sure how meaningful I am to myself.

Do something substantial.
I said yes, and next year I will embark on the greatest adventure I've had yet. I may or may not kill someone in the process.

Love myself a little better (So that He can love me at all).
He loves me just the way I am..

Not break a heart.
Win.

Find patience.
Uhm...

Find happiness.
Double win, triple win even.

Not roll my eyes when someone (anyone) reads this and mentions my relationship with that Him.
Win, since no one read it.

Hone my wordsmithing skills. (Not a word, I know.)
Win...ish.

A Train Wreck, or Something Like It.

Internet rubbernecking.

I'm guilty of it.

You might be too.

Just like real life, driving along the highway, traffic slows to a crawl, and you find yourself decrying those nosy, nosy fuckers 18 cars in front of you who insist on oogling the vehicular carnage as they pass. Then comes your turn to creep by, and instead of maintaining a constant speed out of courtesy for the bazillion drivers behind you, you do it. Right foot shifts from gas to brake-tap, tap, tap- eyes drift to the left (or right), and the rest of your face follows slowly. Before you realize the crime you've committed, you become one of those nosy, nosy fuckers oogling the vehicular carnage.

Same rules apply to the internet, and all this blog lurking of which we are so heinously guilty. Yes, yes you too, because if you're reading this, and haven't made known your presence, than you too my friend, are a lurker.

But I digress.

What started as a simple plea for pray has become this clusterfuck of unadulterated adoration, bordering on celebrity for the internet's favorite Jesus-Loving, organic-eating, sometimes-cloth-diapering mommy blogger. You know who I'm talking about. And I'm guilty of it too, don't get me wrong.

I just wanna know how it happened. I mean, I'm sucked in same as you, and I only have a furbaby. Recipes - meh, good but could be found almost anywhere. Photography lessons - again, easily accessible on the web. Her cute kids with their ridiculous nicknames - okay, I'll give you that. You can ONLY find adorable children with fast food internet names over there.

She's preachy, and commercial. She's still funky, fresh, and lets face it, really fucking cool - most of the time. But her Old testament devotion to her husband, her nauseating use of alliteration, advert-saturated homepage, and utter insistence of use of those Godforsaken nicknames drive me up a wall, as I'm sure it does you.

Yet, I get her blog updates everyday. I read them everyday. I'm addicted, and I can't help myself.

So I ask, what's the appeal? Why do we keep going back for more? What is with this voyeuristic tendency, Blogshpere?

Don't all speak up at once now.

Almost getting caught.

IT was up for 24 hours before he asked about my blog.
Hmmmm, while he says he didn't read it, I think he might have. I don't know if I care or not yet.

If you really wanna read it, because obviously it's not up anymore, just e-mail me.

If, of course, you're not a figment of my imagination.

April Rose?

I always stumble upon this shit two days too late.

Who, or what, is April Rose, and what's all the fuss about?

Anybody, please?

Whatever the hell is wrong with my dog

This is Daisy.



She is the light of my life and the apple of my eye.

And right now there is something terribly wrong with her.

For the past two nights in a row she has started shaking and wailing for no discernible reason and running around the house trying to get away from whatever is hurting her.

She's just finished a week-long course of antibiotics after a harrowing weekend adventure during which she was bitten by any and every bug found in the woods of central Louisiana. No ticks that we are aware of, but she did spend four unsupervised hours lost in the woods.

She's been drinking, and she'll take snacks of table food, but she hasn't eaten her food for a few days now.

Does anybody have any thoughts on this? Does anybody out there know what's wrong with my Daisy Mae?

Thanks in advance,
J

My appreciation

For dear, wonderful, fantastically awesome CAGB over at The Busy "Baylys". You've made my day, nay my year.

As usual, I'll expound later. But you, whoever you are, go. Read. She's a genius. And her kids are pretty damn cute.

You. Whoever you are. Again.

Well I came out of hiding over on Brianna's blog sometime last week. She asked her readers about their names, and since my name is not only cool and unique, but has a nice little (okay, really looong) story behind it, I decided to share.

And as of today, two hundred, eighty-nine of you have at least pit stopped here in the pursuit of something (ah-HA see what I did there?).

I have triple digit visitors!!! Woot-woot (little dance).

God I'm lame.

No I'm not. I'm excited! Now, no one's bothered to say anything, but that's okay. Nothing I say really warrants response, as in "Please, please, please, PLEASE do NOT respond to anything I have to say about David, puh-leeeeeeeeeze?" Unless, you know, I ask.

And to those of you lurking around, searching for the meaning of the "J," you won't find it here. My anonymity allows me to talk about my life without having to answer for it. So I've purposefully eliminated as much identifying material as possibly from this little corner of the web. I do promise to post an explanatory blog identifying the nicknames I employ. But there's no answer to the J question here.

If you really, really, really must know, like it's-killing-me must know, shoot me any email. I'll tell. There's little in this world I won't share about myself with others. You just have to ask.

You. Whoever you are.

My counter says 41 people have visited my blog since I put up said counter. I'm obsessive, but only about ten of those people are me.

So, who are you, Numbers 1-31? I know you're out there. I've been tracking you. Show yourself.

Please? With a cherry on top?

I know I rarely say anything meaningful, but I'm begging here. Yes, I'll beg. Often. Totally shameless, that's me.

Not that, you know, I have room to talk. I lurk all over the place. Hell, I think I've left a total of four comments, combined, on those blogs I follow on the list to the right, and that list is a drop in the pot compared to what I follow anonymously.

Alright, so I have lurkers. That's better than me talking to myself on cyberspace.

Score!