I think I know what is behind the Mona Lisa's smile -- she had friends who created a love life for her out of thin air.
You see, it all started innocently enough. Someone who was making my life a bit grumpy left the company. When that person left, I felt like I could be myself again. I started joking more, smiling more, being more social... I didn't have someone making underhanded comments or insults cleverly masked as "constructive criticism". I felt free to be me.
I also had a one on one with my boss who told me that people said I looked mad, mean and grumpy... and stressed out. I was encouraged to stop looking so fierce. I hadn't realized I was, but, okay, I need my job so I worked overtime to hide any negative feelings, or stress, or whatever emotion other than joy that showed on my very expressive face. (My mom used to tell me that she could tell when I was up to things because I'm a horrible liar and she could read on my face what I was thinking.)
This unexpected perkiness caused some speculation at work. Was I seeing someone? Was I interviewing for jobs? Had I gotten some really good meds from my doctor?
As a joke, I made the off-handed comment to someone one day that it was just great sex. It got the reaction I was hoping for. I could almost hear the chatter that ensued. Others heard my comment and I had people I hardly know comment that I was "glowing". Perkier. Aaaaaaaaah.
So, last night, I posted on Facebook that I've been incredibly nauseated this week and very very tired. I had numerous responses suggesting pregnancy. (I guess not only am I having great sex, but I'm having great unprotected sex...)
I found it a lot humorous and just a little frightening. THAT kind of rumor is not something I want circulating the internet. I deleted the status update and all of the comments. It made me laugh for a bit.
I even got an email from an ex-love interest who is on my FB list but whom I never talk to asking me if I was seeing someone. I coyly responded that I didn't have to be "seeing" someone to be pregnant. Hello little flame, here's some gasoline for you.
I'm sorry to disappoint those of you who were planning my baby shower. It's a sinus infection.
But, thanks for giving me credit for having a love life.
This reminds me of a time a long time ago when I did have a semi-serious scare and I remember looking up the definition for sperm in the dictionary.
I seem to recall it said something about viscous semen... which I pronounced vicious seamen... because all sperm consists of is nasty little sailors who want to sail unforgiving seas and lay their anchor.
Ships ahoy, matey!
Thursday, July 14, 2011
Wednesday, July 13, 2011
Harlequin Romance 2011
I can't take credit for the following. A friend sent it to me. It made me giggle. I haven't read a bodice-ripper in awhile (not since I started to realize I was old enough to be the mother of the heroines in the books...)
---------------------------
He grasped me firmly, but gently, just above my elbow, and guided me into a room, 'his' room. Then he quietly shut the door and we were alone. He approached me soundlessly, from behind, and spoke in a low, reassuring voice close to my ear,"Just relax."
Without warning, he reached down, and I felt his strong, calloused hands start at my ankles, gently probing, and moving upward along my calves, slowly but steadily.
My breath caught in my throat.
I knew I should be afraid, but somehow I didn't care. His touch was so experienced, so sure.
When his hands moved up onto my thighs, I gave a slight shudder, and partly closed my eyes. My pulse was pounding. I felt his knowing fingers caress my abdomen, my ribcage. Then, as he cupped my firm, full breasts in his hands, I inhaled sharply.
Probing, searching, knowing what he wanted, he brought his hands to my shoulders, slid them down my tingling spine and into my panties.
Although I knew nothing about this man, I felt oddly trusting and expectant. This is a man, I thought, a man used to taking charge. A man not used to taking 'No' for an answer. A man who would tell me what he wanted.
A man who would look into my soul and say .. . .
"Okay,ma'am,you can board your flight now."
Information Overload
Originally posted 06/08/2005 7:29pm
I have a confession to make --- I'm an information junkie.
I love knowing things, finding out things, researching things, reading things, exploring things, looking up things, etc. I've always been this way.
I started early, much to my parents' chagrin, and have kept on going. Knowledge is power... and it's also a fun way to make conversation with people. I love to play trivial pursuit and try to watch JEOPARDY whenever I can remember that it's on. I've become the "Did you know..." girl at work. Some little snippet I heard on the radio, saw on the TV, read in a book, magazine or newspaper. Today's "Did you know..." was from WOMEN'S HEALTH MAGAZINE.
Did you know that according to researchers at the Univ of Alberta (Canada), the length of a man's fingers relative to his ring finger can predict physical aggression. The shorter a man's index finger as compared to his ring finger, the higher he scores on standard psychological tests for aggression. Whodathunk? And to think I only look at the ring finger to see if there's a wedding band or a tan-line from a mysteriously missing wedding band. Guess size does matter.
I started reading before I started school so that I could read the newspaper... or at least, try. The first book I read on my own was THE SHOEMAKER AND THE ELVES. Even before I could read, I would look at pictures in books and magazines and try to absorb everything about them. I asked a lot of why and "how come?" questions. I was a sponge in school. Soaked everything right up-- especially if it had to do with the human body, reading, languages, writing, etc. I was the only kid in 7th grade that "got" diagraming sentences right out of the gate. I spent many hours in the library. I would go to the card catalog to "browse" and if something struck my fancy, I'd hunt down the book and read it. Many times over if it really interested me.
I love knowing things, finding out things, researching things, reading things, exploring things, looking up things, etc. I've always been this way.
I started early, much to my parents' chagrin, and have kept on going. Knowledge is power... and it's also a fun way to make conversation with people. I love to play trivial pursuit and try to watch JEOPARDY whenever I can remember that it's on. I've become the "Did you know..." girl at work. Some little snippet I heard on the radio, saw on the TV, read in a book, magazine or newspaper. Today's "Did you know..." was from WOMEN'S HEALTH MAGAZINE.
Did you know that according to researchers at the Univ of Alberta (Canada), the length of a man's fingers relative to his ring finger can predict physical aggression. The shorter a man's index finger as compared to his ring finger, the higher he scores on standard psychological tests for aggression. Whodathunk? And to think I only look at the ring finger to see if there's a wedding band or a tan-line from a mysteriously missing wedding band. Guess size does matter.
I started reading before I started school so that I could read the newspaper... or at least, try. The first book I read on my own was THE SHOEMAKER AND THE ELVES. Even before I could read, I would look at pictures in books and magazines and try to absorb everything about them. I asked a lot of why and "how come?" questions. I was a sponge in school. Soaked everything right up-- especially if it had to do with the human body, reading, languages, writing, etc. I was the only kid in 7th grade that "got" diagraming sentences right out of the gate. I spent many hours in the library. I would go to the card catalog to "browse" and if something struck my fancy, I'd hunt down the book and read it. Many times over if it really interested me.
I remember being teased by the librarian because I'd wear out my library card much quicker than anyone else. I found out all about sex from reading Judy Blume's FOREVER in 6th grade. I discovered a talent for FRENCH when I found an old book written in the language in my grandmother's house and wanted to know what it said. (It turned out to be a volume of an encyclopedia.) I used to have a thick paperback dictionary and every day after school, I would read a page or two. By the time I graduated high school, I had read the entire dictionary at least once. I once had a teacher tell me that in order to "own" a word forever, you had to use it three times the day you learn it. So, I would look up words, and then find ways to use them so that I could officially "own" the words. To this day, I'm the only person in my circle who uses the word "albeit" on a regular basis. 
As I grew older, the thirst only intensified... and even led to some pretty interesting hobbies such as making spells and potions, cooking, baking, making candles, making soap, knitting, crocheting, sewing from a pattern, pilates, writing, dream-interpretation, and many more. The internet opened up even more doors. I love just sitting down and typing a word into google and seeing where it takes me. At work, I've become the informal "do you know?" person. "Do you know who invented liquid paper?" "Do you know how to get rid of a coffee stain?" "Do you know how many calories are in a Panera Asiago Cheese Bagel?" GOOGLE is one of the few sites I do have access to at work and on my lunch break, I will research things. And then answer the questions of my colleagues.
I also love to read magazines. All kinds of magazines. Every few months , I "allow" myself to splurge on one magazine I've never read before on any topic I want. I also subscribe to many magazines and then once I've read them, I either sell them at a used bookstore or give them to my co-workers so that they can have some information, too.
The mind is a terrible thing to waste and whomever said that was a genius.... Now, I'm gonna go look that up because I don't know.
As I grew older, the thirst only intensified... and even led to some pretty interesting hobbies such as making spells and potions, cooking, baking, making candles, making soap, knitting, crocheting, sewing from a pattern, pilates, writing, dream-interpretation, and many more. The internet opened up even more doors. I love just sitting down and typing a word into google and seeing where it takes me. At work, I've become the informal "do you know?" person. "Do you know who invented liquid paper?" "Do you know how to get rid of a coffee stain?" "Do you know how many calories are in a Panera Asiago Cheese Bagel?" GOOGLE is one of the few sites I do have access to at work and on my lunch break, I will research things. And then answer the questions of my colleagues.
I also love to read magazines. All kinds of magazines. Every few months , I "allow" myself to splurge on one magazine I've never read before on any topic I want. I also subscribe to many magazines and then once I've read them, I either sell them at a used bookstore or give them to my co-workers so that they can have some information, too.
The mind is a terrible thing to waste and whomever said that was a genius.... Now, I'm gonna go look that up because I don't know.
Tuesday, July 12, 2011
Psycho Pick Up Lines
An old friend posted a comment on a photo last week that reminded me of something from awhile back and it literally made me "laugh out loud" -- at work, in the cafeteria, with people around.
Back in 1996ish, I found this greeting card that had "Top Ten Psycho Pick Up Lines" on it.
For some reason, this tickled me. Tickled me so much that I became an avid fan of asking people "May I lick your forehead?" Tickled me so much that I actually got others to start asking "May I lick your forehead?" There are even photos hidden some place in my apartment of a frenzied forehead licking moment in my life. (It tastes salty. I don't recommend it. Unless you like salt. Or licking.)
Anyhoo, I saved the greeting card for the "right moment" and right now seems to be the right moment...
Top 10 Psycho Pick-Up Lines
- Didn't I see you on the grassy knoll?
- Can I buy you a spatula?
- Bet you're wondering why I have no nostrils.
- Your crawlspace or mine?
- You look like the kind of person who appreciates catheters.
- May I lick your forehead?
- Do you always wear you socks over your shoes?
- Smeep. Smeep. Smeep.
- What's your favorite flavor of wood?
- You've stolen my heart, but I have three more back home in the freezer.
Sunday, July 10, 2011
The Lie Becomes the Truth
People always told me be careful what you do
Don't go around breaking young girls' hearts
(hee-e!)
And mother always told me be careful who you love
And be careful what you do 'cause the lie becomes the truth
(hey-hey!)
A shout out to Michael Jackson on this sunny Sunday morning.
Last night, I had this dream that a few weeks before my reunion, on a whim to see if anyone would notice, I updated my Facebook status to "In a relationship." Harmless.
I didn't think anyone would notice but a friend did. So, I told that friend that I had been seeing someone for awhile but hadn't wanted to go public with it. The person commented that none of my posts seemed to indicate I was in a relationship. I pointed out that none of my posts indicated otherwise either.
The closer I got to the reunion, the more nervous I got about my lie. I had old friends eager to meet said "boyfriend". I would change the subject every time it came up. So, then, I decided to change my status back to single and tell everyone that the status change to "relationship" had been a ruse -- just something to generate a buzz. No one would believe me. They thought I was now lying to protect the person I was in a relationship with -- to preserve privacy, etc.
I lamented my situation to a male friend and before I could finish my rant, he offered to be my pretend boyfriend. [I need to note here that the male friend in my dream was no one I know. Some vague representation of a male friend, because I'm pretty sure all of my current male friends are married, gay or in relationships.]
Like something straight out of a romance novel or chick flick, he said, "I'll do it. We hang out all the time. People will believe it." I argued with him that maybe that made it all too odd-- that we were more like brother and sister than boyfriend and girlfriend and no one would believe it. He assured me that it would work. "I'll be the best damned fake boyfriend you've ever had!" he insisted.
He started posting little "private joke" type comments on my Facebook page. He uploaded all sorts of photos from various outings we had attended and tagged me in them. My friends were ooohing and aaahing over the cuteness (and probably, silently barfing.) I kept asking him to tone it down a little. He didn't. He posted songs... allegedly "our songs", and not your normal relationship songs. These would be songs like Bohemian Rhapsody by Queen or Sweet Child of Mine by GNR.
Then, in real life, he started to act differently. More affectionate. More touchy-feely. He started calling me pet names. He made me lunch, which he'd bring to me at work. He'd "stop by" just to say hi and see how my day was going. I told him it was a bit of overkill because none of my reunion people were at work. Of course, this just caused a fervor at work.
Then, it came time for the reunion and we drove together to the reunion. He was acting rather odd during the drive. Out of nowhere, he'd just start laughing and I asked him what was going on. He'd say, "Wait and see..."
We were at dinner with my reunion friends and all of a sudden, he blurts, "We're getting married!"
I spit out my drink and everyone at the table cheered. Then, I burst into tears and told him he was a mean person and ran out of the room.
I woke up at that point. With a headache. (sigh)
Don't go around breaking young girls' hearts
(hee-e!)
And mother always told me be careful who you love
And be careful what you do 'cause the lie becomes the truth
(hey-hey!)
A shout out to Michael Jackson on this sunny Sunday morning.
Last night, I had this dream that a few weeks before my reunion, on a whim to see if anyone would notice, I updated my Facebook status to "In a relationship." Harmless.
I didn't think anyone would notice but a friend did. So, I told that friend that I had been seeing someone for awhile but hadn't wanted to go public with it. The person commented that none of my posts seemed to indicate I was in a relationship. I pointed out that none of my posts indicated otherwise either.
The closer I got to the reunion, the more nervous I got about my lie. I had old friends eager to meet said "boyfriend". I would change the subject every time it came up. So, then, I decided to change my status back to single and tell everyone that the status change to "relationship" had been a ruse -- just something to generate a buzz. No one would believe me. They thought I was now lying to protect the person I was in a relationship with -- to preserve privacy, etc.
I lamented my situation to a male friend and before I could finish my rant, he offered to be my pretend boyfriend. [I need to note here that the male friend in my dream was no one I know. Some vague representation of a male friend, because I'm pretty sure all of my current male friends are married, gay or in relationships.]
Like something straight out of a romance novel or chick flick, he said, "I'll do it. We hang out all the time. People will believe it." I argued with him that maybe that made it all too odd-- that we were more like brother and sister than boyfriend and girlfriend and no one would believe it. He assured me that it would work. "I'll be the best damned fake boyfriend you've ever had!" he insisted.
He started posting little "private joke" type comments on my Facebook page. He uploaded all sorts of photos from various outings we had attended and tagged me in them. My friends were ooohing and aaahing over the cuteness (and probably, silently barfing.) I kept asking him to tone it down a little. He didn't. He posted songs... allegedly "our songs", and not your normal relationship songs. These would be songs like Bohemian Rhapsody by Queen or Sweet Child of Mine by GNR.
Then, in real life, he started to act differently. More affectionate. More touchy-feely. He started calling me pet names. He made me lunch, which he'd bring to me at work. He'd "stop by" just to say hi and see how my day was going. I told him it was a bit of overkill because none of my reunion people were at work. Of course, this just caused a fervor at work.
Then, it came time for the reunion and we drove together to the reunion. He was acting rather odd during the drive. Out of nowhere, he'd just start laughing and I asked him what was going on. He'd say, "Wait and see..."
We were at dinner with my reunion friends and all of a sudden, he blurts, "We're getting married!"
I spit out my drink and everyone at the table cheered. Then, I burst into tears and told him he was a mean person and ran out of the room.
I woke up at that point. With a headache. (sigh)
Saturday, July 9, 2011
My Dad, Steve
I posted the following blog in another forum several years ago. I'm re-running it here. A timeless classic, I must say. :)
------------------------------------
My parents are not the most technically-savvy people in the world. The aging VCR on top of their tv still flashes "12:00" and it a top-loader. I wouldn't be surprised if it took Beta instead of VHS. I think they've used it once or twice since they bought it because it's "too hard to figure out." I offered to set it for them the last time I went for a visit but my mom said, "We never use it. We have HBO." Guess she's never heard of taping LOST every week so that you can watch it over and over to discuss in a forum.
A few years ago, my dad discovered the internet. First, he had one of those WEBTV gizmos but it interrupted my mom's HBO viewing so it had to go. A friend of my brother's talked him into getting a computer. You can imagine my shock when my mom called me and asked me for my e-mail address. "Your daddy bought one of those computers and it has internet," she said. I spent a good 10 minutes spelling out my e-mail address and explaining that the word "at" really wasn't part of my address, but actually a symbol. She just doesn't work with keyboards so it wasn't something she was familiar with. I ended up MAILING her (via first class mail) my e-mail address so that my dad could type it into his email account.
Soon after, I started getting these e-mails from "Steve(and a bunch of numbers)" @yahoo.com. I didn't know a Steve and I was done with my internet dating by this time so I would just delete the e-mails unread, thinking they were spam. Then, my mom called and said, "Your dad wants to know if you've gotten his e-mails." I told her no and then asked for his e-mail address so I could send him a test message. "It's "Steve(and a bunch of numbers)"@yahoo.com," she said.
My dad's name is not Steve. So, I asked her to put him on so I could ask him why his e-mail address was STEVE (and a bunch of numbers). I thought that maybe Nick, my brother's friend, had played a joke on my dad and told him he had to have that name or something.
"Have you heard of chat rooms?" my dad asked gleefully when I got him on the phone. (My dad is in his 70s and NOT the gleeful type.) I told him that I had heard of chat rooms. He said, "Go onto YAHOO and look up my profile." So, I asked him why he picked "Steve" and he said, "I didn't want those girls in the chat room to know who I really am." Hmmm.... a total computer novice yet he had already figured out how to play the chat room game.
So, after I hung up the phone, I looked up "Steve" on yahoo profiles and was shocked at what I found. There, looking back at me, was a photo of this buff twentysomething body-builder type with curly blonde hair and blue eyes. The profile listed him as 25, living in Pittsburgh and working as a postal worker. His hobbies involved fast cars, working out, and fast women. ACK! My dad was a himbo! (Male bimbo!) I immediately tried to call him on the phone but kept getting a busy signal, so I emailed "Steve" and told him to get off the computer so I could call him. He responded that he was "in the middle of a chat" and would get back to me. Sheesh.
So, that year, when I went home for the holidays, my dad took me into his playroom (he has a room where he tinkers with gadgets and such where he goes to get away from my mom) and showed me his computer. He then showed me his harem of chat-buddies. Most of the women had "sexually oriented" names like "XTC469" and "HOTMAMA4U". They ranged in age from early 20s to mid-40s, I'd say. Brunettes, redheads, blondes. All shapes, sizes and appearances. Of course, considering that my dad really didn't look like "Steve", who knows how many of them were real?
While I was there, he got "IM'd" by one of his women. I watched as he hopped onto a barstool in front of his computer and started typing away-- the two-finger method. I was shocked and appalled by the words streaming from my dad's fingers. I blushed just reading them and I read erotica for fun!
I lectured my dad on the dangers of cyber sex and internet porn and to be careful he doesn't accidentally chat up a police officer undercover. I cautioned him on giving out too much information and leading these women to his house. I also suggested that he not get too serious about any of them because they think they are writing a hot guy named Steve.... not an aging grandpa named Bob who has bird-legs and a beer gut. He said, "Aw, it's just fun... and it pisses your mom off."
Now, whenever I see an ad on the internet and the guy seems "too good to be true", I wonder if it's my dad, downloading pix of male models and creating new personas. That thought alone will keep me single well into the next decade.
------------------------------------
My parents are not the most technically-savvy people in the world. The aging VCR on top of their tv still flashes "12:00" and it a top-loader. I wouldn't be surprised if it took Beta instead of VHS. I think they've used it once or twice since they bought it because it's "too hard to figure out." I offered to set it for them the last time I went for a visit but my mom said, "We never use it. We have HBO." Guess she's never heard of taping LOST every week so that you can watch it over and over to discuss in a forum.
A few years ago, my dad discovered the internet. First, he had one of those WEBTV gizmos but it interrupted my mom's HBO viewing so it had to go. A friend of my brother's talked him into getting a computer. You can imagine my shock when my mom called me and asked me for my e-mail address. "Your daddy bought one of those computers and it has internet," she said. I spent a good 10 minutes spelling out my e-mail address and explaining that the word "at" really wasn't part of my address, but actually a symbol. She just doesn't work with keyboards so it wasn't something she was familiar with. I ended up MAILING her (via first class mail) my e-mail address so that my dad could type it into his email account.
Soon after, I started getting these e-mails from "Steve(and a bunch of numbers)" @yahoo.com. I didn't know a Steve and I was done with my internet dating by this time so I would just delete the e-mails unread, thinking they were spam. Then, my mom called and said, "Your dad wants to know if you've gotten his e-mails." I told her no and then asked for his e-mail address so I could send him a test message. "It's "Steve(and a bunch of numbers)"@yahoo.com," she said.
My dad's name is not Steve. So, I asked her to put him on so I could ask him why his e-mail address was STEVE (and a bunch of numbers). I thought that maybe Nick, my brother's friend, had played a joke on my dad and told him he had to have that name or something.
"Have you heard of chat rooms?" my dad asked gleefully when I got him on the phone. (My dad is in his 70s and NOT the gleeful type.) I told him that I had heard of chat rooms. He said, "Go onto YAHOO and look up my profile." So, I asked him why he picked "Steve" and he said, "I didn't want those girls in the chat room to know who I really am." Hmmm.... a total computer novice yet he had already figured out how to play the chat room game.
So, after I hung up the phone, I looked up "Steve" on yahoo profiles and was shocked at what I found. There, looking back at me, was a photo of this buff twentysomething body-builder type with curly blonde hair and blue eyes. The profile listed him as 25, living in Pittsburgh and working as a postal worker. His hobbies involved fast cars, working out, and fast women. ACK! My dad was a himbo! (Male bimbo!) I immediately tried to call him on the phone but kept getting a busy signal, so I emailed "Steve" and told him to get off the computer so I could call him. He responded that he was "in the middle of a chat" and would get back to me. Sheesh.
So, that year, when I went home for the holidays, my dad took me into his playroom (he has a room where he tinkers with gadgets and such where he goes to get away from my mom) and showed me his computer. He then showed me his harem of chat-buddies. Most of the women had "sexually oriented" names like "XTC469" and "HOTMAMA4U". They ranged in age from early 20s to mid-40s, I'd say. Brunettes, redheads, blondes. All shapes, sizes and appearances. Of course, considering that my dad really didn't look like "Steve", who knows how many of them were real?
While I was there, he got "IM'd" by one of his women. I watched as he hopped onto a barstool in front of his computer and started typing away-- the two-finger method. I was shocked and appalled by the words streaming from my dad's fingers. I blushed just reading them and I read erotica for fun!
I lectured my dad on the dangers of cyber sex and internet porn and to be careful he doesn't accidentally chat up a police officer undercover. I cautioned him on giving out too much information and leading these women to his house. I also suggested that he not get too serious about any of them because they think they are writing a hot guy named Steve.... not an aging grandpa named Bob who has bird-legs and a beer gut. He said, "Aw, it's just fun... and it pisses your mom off."
Now, whenever I see an ad on the internet and the guy seems "too good to be true", I wonder if it's my dad, downloading pix of male models and creating new personas. That thought alone will keep me single well into the next decade.
Unfriended
I unfriended all of my family members on Facebook today.
When my nephews friended me last summer, I had a hunch it would not be a good thing. They were 8 and 9 at the time. What do 8 and 9 years olds know about proper netiquette?
They spammed me (and several of my friends) on a regular basis with game requests, misplaced "tags" and random practically incoherent single word posts here and there. (Let's hear it for the Pennsylvania public education system.)
Then, in December, one of my cousins whom I haven't seen since childhood found me. Then, another. Then, one of my dad's sisters.
The straw that broke the camel's back came on Friday morning when I got a friend request from "OLDBROKENFAT DARNELL". My dad.
A few days prior, I had called my dad to wish him a happy birthday and he had told me then he was on Facebook. I pretended not to hear. Then, he put my mom on the phone and she proceeded to tell me about all of the things I had posted on my PRIVATE Facebook page that my Aunt Cassie had told her about.
It was then I realized I did not want my family having access to my witty remarks, inane comments and occasional inappropriate rant.
I was lamenting to a co-worker about it on Friday morning and he suggested I block them. So, I sent them all a message telling them I was closing down my Facebook page and then unfriended them and then blocked them.
There are just some things I want to keep private. My co-worker suggested that I post something really out-there right before unfriending them so that they'd have something juicy to speculate about.
"The test came back positive."
Alas, I forgot to do the post. But, now I feel more free to be me on my Facebook page.
When I'm ready to change my relationship status, I'll let them know the old-fashioned way. I'll send a birth announcement.
When my nephews friended me last summer, I had a hunch it would not be a good thing. They were 8 and 9 at the time. What do 8 and 9 years olds know about proper netiquette?
They spammed me (and several of my friends) on a regular basis with game requests, misplaced "tags" and random practically incoherent single word posts here and there. (Let's hear it for the Pennsylvania public education system.)
Then, in December, one of my cousins whom I haven't seen since childhood found me. Then, another. Then, one of my dad's sisters.
The straw that broke the camel's back came on Friday morning when I got a friend request from "OLDBROKENFAT DARNELL". My dad.
A few days prior, I had called my dad to wish him a happy birthday and he had told me then he was on Facebook. I pretended not to hear. Then, he put my mom on the phone and she proceeded to tell me about all of the things I had posted on my PRIVATE Facebook page that my Aunt Cassie had told her about.
It was then I realized I did not want my family having access to my witty remarks, inane comments and occasional inappropriate rant.
I was lamenting to a co-worker about it on Friday morning and he suggested I block them. So, I sent them all a message telling them I was closing down my Facebook page and then unfriended them and then blocked them.
There are just some things I want to keep private. My co-worker suggested that I post something really out-there right before unfriending them so that they'd have something juicy to speculate about.
"The test came back positive."
Alas, I forgot to do the post. But, now I feel more free to be me on my Facebook page.
When I'm ready to change my relationship status, I'll let them know the old-fashioned way. I'll send a birth announcement.
Wednesday, July 6, 2011
Top Ten
Something a co-worker did yesterday made me think of the Beastie Boys' Licensed to Ill album and how much I used to play it in college. Whenever I have a long road trip, I have a stack of CDs I always toss in my car and that CD is one of them.
Do you have any albums/CDs you just consider must-haves for road trips?
My Top Ten:
1) Elvis 30 #1 Hits
Do you have any albums/CDs you just consider must-haves for road trips?
My Top Ten:
1) Elvis 30 #1 Hits
2) Matchbox Twenty Mad Season
3) Licensed to Ill
4) Between the 1 & The 9 - Patti Rothberg
5) Jason Mraz - Waiting for My Rocket to Come
6) Anna Nalick - Wreck of the Day
7) Rick Springfield - Rick Springfield - Greatest Hits
8) Eagles : The Very Best Of (2CD)
9) Ladies & Gentlemen: The Best of George Michael
10) Jagged Little Pill - Alanis Morissette
3) Licensed to Ill
4) Between the 1 & The 9 - Patti Rothberg
5) Jason Mraz - Waiting for My Rocket to Come
6) Anna Nalick - Wreck of the Day
7) Rick Springfield - Rick Springfield - Greatest Hits
8) Eagles : The Very Best Of (2CD)
9) Ladies & Gentlemen: The Best of George Michael
10) Jagged Little Pill - Alanis Morissette
Tuesday, July 5, 2011
Rebirth of a Blog - Redux
Below, please find in their original format and glory -- some of my more popular blog posts from a blog I wrote religiously a few years ago. Enjoy!
Have I What?
Originally posted 02/19/2006 10:45am
A few months ago, I was lamenting to a co-worker about how I always seem to be (sinus) congested at night and that sometimes I wake up in the middle of the night so congested that I can't breathe and have to resort to nasal spray to de-congest and go back to sleep. She mentioned that she has a diffuser in her bedroom and that every night, she places a few drops of eucalyptus oil in it and that helps her breathe better.
I searched the regular places for the oil and had no luck. A quick internet search provided me with the name of a small local "health foods" store. (Although- the only "foods" they sell there are protein and soy based snack bars and chips.) I bought a small bottle and have been using it every night by placing a couple of drops on a cotton pad and putting it on my nightstand. I'm pleased to say that the number of nights I wake up choking due to sinus congestion have reduced.
I ran out of oil Friday night, so yesterday (2-18-06), I hopped over to the health foods store to replenish my supply. I like to browse in health food stores because I hope that just by being near so many things that are allegedly good for me I just may become healthier by osmosis or something. I wandered up and down the tiny cramped aisles with my oil in hand. The manager/owner/clerk approached me.
"Can I help you find something?" she asked. [Maybe I was lingering too long and she was afraid I was shoving bottles of tee tree oil in my pants or something.]
"No, I'm just looking," I smiled and said-- and held up the bottle of eucalyptus oil as proof I really was going to buy something at some point.
She smiled and sort of hovered and then she said, "Aaah, are you feeling congested?" when I stopped in front of some potions for cleansing the sinuses. I smiled and nodded and held up the bottle of oil again. "Yes, this helps a lot."
Then, she leaned in closer and said, "Have you cleansed your colon lately?" I was taken aback. That seems like such a personal question-- like "Have you been touching yourself lately?" It is also not a question you can just brush off. I mean, who can say "I don't remember"? I'm pretty sure you'd remember cleansing your colon. It's also not one you can pretend to have done because if you say yes and then she follows up with another question about the process, you're stuck-- unless you actually know what it means to cleanse your colon. My imagination is vivid and all kinds of things came to mind-- most of them including rubber tubing and warm liquid.
"No," I said timidly, putting some space between the two of us.
"Aaaah, did you know that if you do not regularly cleanse your colon, bacteria can collect and cause all sorts of problems from sinus congestion to weight gain?" she asked, leading me towards this shelf filled with bottles of pills.
"I did not know that," I said, which was the truth, but I still had no hankering to cleanse my colon.
"Yes- you should do it at least once a month and we have some pills you can take to help you do it gently and safely," she said, holding up a bottle with a flourish. The bottle bore a $24.95 price tag. I was waiting for the voice over that proclaimed that I would get some free gift with my purchase or that I could pay for it in monthly installments.
"I really just came for this," I said, holding up my $5 bottle of oil.
The woman tsked and put the pills back.
"But, I swear, the next time I'm here, I'll check out the colon cleanser," I added. Mentally I was trying to think of other places to buy the oil so that I'd never have to discuss my colon with her again.
I paid for my oil and left.
A few months ago, I was lamenting to a co-worker about how I always seem to be (sinus) congested at night and that sometimes I wake up in the middle of the night so congested that I can't breathe and have to resort to nasal spray to de-congest and go back to sleep. She mentioned that she has a diffuser in her bedroom and that every night, she places a few drops of eucalyptus oil in it and that helps her breathe better.
I searched the regular places for the oil and had no luck. A quick internet search provided me with the name of a small local "health foods" store. (Although- the only "foods" they sell there are protein and soy based snack bars and chips.) I bought a small bottle and have been using it every night by placing a couple of drops on a cotton pad and putting it on my nightstand. I'm pleased to say that the number of nights I wake up choking due to sinus congestion have reduced.
I ran out of oil Friday night, so yesterday (2-18-06), I hopped over to the health foods store to replenish my supply. I like to browse in health food stores because I hope that just by being near so many things that are allegedly good for me I just may become healthier by osmosis or something. I wandered up and down the tiny cramped aisles with my oil in hand. The manager/owner/clerk approached me.
"Can I help you find something?" she asked. [Maybe I was lingering too long and she was afraid I was shoving bottles of tee tree oil in my pants or something.]
"No, I'm just looking," I smiled and said-- and held up the bottle of eucalyptus oil as proof I really was going to buy something at some point.
She smiled and sort of hovered and then she said, "Aaah, are you feeling congested?" when I stopped in front of some potions for cleansing the sinuses. I smiled and nodded and held up the bottle of oil again. "Yes, this helps a lot."
Then, she leaned in closer and said, "Have you cleansed your colon lately?" I was taken aback. That seems like such a personal question-- like "Have you been touching yourself lately?" It is also not a question you can just brush off. I mean, who can say "I don't remember"? I'm pretty sure you'd remember cleansing your colon. It's also not one you can pretend to have done because if you say yes and then she follows up with another question about the process, you're stuck-- unless you actually know what it means to cleanse your colon. My imagination is vivid and all kinds of things came to mind-- most of them including rubber tubing and warm liquid.
"No," I said timidly, putting some space between the two of us.
"Aaaah, did you know that if you do not regularly cleanse your colon, bacteria can collect and cause all sorts of problems from sinus congestion to weight gain?" she asked, leading me towards this shelf filled with bottles of pills.
"I did not know that," I said, which was the truth, but I still had no hankering to cleanse my colon.
"Yes- you should do it at least once a month and we have some pills you can take to help you do it gently and safely," she said, holding up a bottle with a flourish. The bottle bore a $24.95 price tag. I was waiting for the voice over that proclaimed that I would get some free gift with my purchase or that I could pay for it in monthly installments.
"I really just came for this," I said, holding up my $5 bottle of oil.
The woman tsked and put the pills back.
"But, I swear, the next time I'm here, I'll check out the colon cleanser," I added. Mentally I was trying to think of other places to buy the oil so that I'd never have to discuss my colon with her again.
I paid for my oil and left.
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