Woman sitting behind me to her friend: My mother, God! I can’t even explain to you how she can be. Jesus Christ could come down off the cross for her, walk into her living room, and she would say, “Jesus! You’re getting blood on the carpet!”
Archive for » April, 2008 «
26
April
You could seduce me away from my boyfriend. Really, you could.
Even the most loving, committed, monogamous couples have those “fantasy freebies.” You know what I mean — the “I promise to be faithful and devoted to you unless I meet the following celebrities and they just happen to want to have sex with me . . .” list. It is a perfectly acceptable practice because your odds of being struck by lightning twice on the same day are exponentially better than your odds of ever meeting your fantasy freebie AND getting him/her into bed.
At least, that’s how it usually works.
But, you see, while the Captain’s selections might look something like this:
1. Julia Roberts
2. Angelina Jolie
3. that hot chick from that movie we saw a preview for once
4. the Coors twins
5. the Dallas Cowboys Cheerleaders
my list would not be made up of Hollywood leading men, Calvin Klein models, or rock stars. I would not be secretly lusting after People magazine’s Sexiest Man Alive. I would not be wooed by fame, fortune, and cosmetically enhanced physical attractiveness.
No, my list would end up composed entirely of . . . bloggers.
For a long while, I was terribly disappointed that I would never run into any of my favorite bloggers in the grocery store, at a hockey game, or even at a popular local vacation spot. Only now am I beginning to comprehend just how fortunate that is. Because what attracts me to the opposite sex more than anything else is intelligence, humor, and eloquence.
If I met you (any one of my favorite male bloggers), I would instantly become a blushing ball of quirks. Your witty banter, while perhaps meant to put me at ease, would serve only to make me swoon. Your animated stories would cause me to melt. And each confidently uttered polysyllabic word would give me tingles.
Your command of language and extensive knowledge of grammatical rules would cause me to lose all reason and judgment. Your expansive vocabulary would have me completely mesmerized. With one well-placed comical anecdote, you would know I was captivated.
Wait, who’s that at the door? Why, it’s Opportunity!
You could totally seduce me away from my boyfriend.
Well . . . unless he starts blogging.
Category: Random
2 Comments
17
April
If you’ve been a reader for any length of time, you may remember that exercise and I have never been on good terms. However, the recent addition of discounted gym memberships to our already huge list of kick-ass employee benefits has me ready to give physical fitness the chance it deserves.
I’d like to tell you that my change of heart is due to a personal breakthrough that involves me becoming uber health conscious or that I’ve vowed to treat my body like a temple. Not so. The impetus for this life revolution is simply that the weather just turned nice and there ain’t no way in hell I’d stroll a beach with this body. (That and my pants
don’t fit quite as well as they used to.)
Sure, I’m all for being healthier and living longer and having more energy and sleeping better and all that jazz. But I’ll be honest. The promise of better circulation isn’t going to get my lazy ass to the gym. It will get me to eat right, sleep well, and take vitamins. Why? Those things are easy. Exercise is not.
Unfortunately, while looking good is the best motivator to get me to the gym, it’s probably the biggest deterrent keeping me from the gym as well. Cause let’s think about this. Who will be at the gym with me? All my coworkers. Good God! Do I really want the head of finance to see me getting my belly fat measured? Do I need my colleagues to know what I look like in yoga pants? Do I feel comfortable enough with my boss to risk him catching me exiting the pool?
Hell no.
I like my coworkers in a “I’m cool spending time together outside of the office” kind of way, but NOT in a “I’m down with you getting an eyeful of my cellulite” kind of way.
Now I need to get into shape just so I can start going to the gym!
Category: Fitness Fun, Rants
One Comment
13
April
I’d like to think of myself as a loyal person, but once you begin to stack the evidence against me, I guess I’m really not. I have a bit of a roving eye, seemingly never satisfied with what I’ve got at the moment. Many relationships have been cut short when I abruptly left for something better. It’s a terrible character flaw, I know, but I assure you that I have been trying very hard to change. That’s why, despite my overwhelming fear of commitment, I intend to stick with this blog.
When I was young and capricious, I blew through the Livejournal and Blurty platforms before I even spent enough time with them to ever feel attached. They just didn’t meet my needs. Sure, using little hamsters to illustrate my present mood was cute . . . for a short time . . . but I wanted more than that.
Eventually I stumbled upon AOL Journals. I liked the platform. The design wasn’t anything spectacular, but it was a step up from what I had been using in the past. I started a blog there called Cynicism As an Art Form. I wrote about my Bohemian life as a starving artist and shared my experiences working in community theatre. I also wrote about an imaginary llama named Fletcher that lived in my pantry. Fletcher was probably more popular than I was. People found the stories and commented. The interactive aspect got me hooked.
Cynicism and I were like peas and carrots. I enjoyed writing, I had a good group of readers, and I was starting to earn some attention. The blog was featured by AOL on their journal front page or something like that for about a week. That was when I started getting negative comments.
My self-esteem has always sucked ass, so the hatefulness of these people bothered me tremendously. I began to second guess anything I wrote, afraid to offend people. Shortly after that I deleted the whole blog.
Before long the addiction called me back and I started a second AOL Journal called Facetious. That one didn’t last nearly as long. Life got in the way of blogging. The journal was neglected. Eventually it disappeared.
Next came Unrequited, which cataloged my dating misadventures. Things were going well, and then AOL pissed me off. They booted one of my favorite bloggers for “offensive content.” (They had an issue with a comic something like this.) THEN they started talking about putting ads on all the blogs. The controversy sent me straight into the arms of Blogger.
Most people knew me on Blogger as “Rabbit” where I wrote a blog called Two Thoughts Before the Epiphany. All was well and good until I suffered a bout of depression. I had always kept my blog content lighthearted, so I felt like I couldn’t post any of my thoughts or feelings. Two Thoughts didn’t want to know the real me, just the fun me. It got deleted.
Being the blog-whore I am, several weeks later I was back with Everyone Loves an Underdog. I thought that was it. I thought Underdog was The One. Come hell or high water, I was ready to live out the rest my days blogging there.
Then someone I knew started reading it and began to email me about how he knew all my “innermost thoughts.” Creepy! That was the end of Underdog.
After that I pretty much gave up on blogging. When I started TouchedByMadness it was a private blog hosted on WordPress. I kept it just for me so I’d have a place to store all my favorite stories. Then I started taking my HTML class and needed to figure out what kind of website to build for the course. Hmmmm. What type of site would be a good fit for me? And where would I ever come up with content?
So here I am. Again. With a new blog. Again.
But this time I am ready for the commitment. I’ve invested time and money into my own domain and hosting. I’ve done a little SEO optimization. I’ve even made it through my first WordPress upgrade. AND I can futz around with the design to my heart’s content. I’ve got it all, baby.
Plus, if I change blogs one more time, somebody is going to kick my ass.
Category: Adventures in Adulthood, Geek Stuff, Memoir, Random, Relationships
7 Comments
The Captain and I had been together nearly three years when he invited me to move in with him. I had mixed feelings on cohabitation at the time. If my younger sister hadn’t long since decided to shack up with her boyfriend, I might have refused for fear of offending my parents. As I mentioned before, growing up my mother cautioned us that premarital sex was the surest way to secure an afterlife of eternal damnation. Surprisingly, she was quite excited for me when I revealed my plans to make the Captain’s home mine as well. I am fairly certain
that this abrupt change in principles is due to the fact that she’d prefer a grandchild over my salvation.
With Mom on my side (and apparently praying for me to get knocked up), I took up residence in my new home Catholic-guilt free. Too easy. As far as I was concerned, everything worked out perfectly.
That is when I stopped receiving mail.
I had filed my change of address forms with the USPS (and my bank, credit cards, the DMV, etc.) about a week and a half before my actual move to prevent any serious delays with my mail. For the first couple weeks I didn’t pay much attention to the sudden cessation of flyers and loan offers. But after a month, I suspected there was an issue and called the local post office.
The man who answered the phone was very friendly until I informed him, “I’m not receiving my mail.”
“Then you’re not getting any.”
“No, I’m quite sure I should have gotten mail by now. I think there’s a problem.”
“Look, if you’re not getting mail it’s because no one is sending you mail. We don’t hoard your mail. What we have, we deliver!”
“I understand that, but I haven’t even been receiving my weekly pay stubs. So you see, I know I should be getting mail, but it’s not arriving here.”
At this point the man realized that I most likely had a valid argument and stopped to think instead of yelling at me. He asked where I lived, had some revelation about “rural routes,” and directed me to call the post office the next town over.
Again, I called the post office and explained my situation. They put my mail carrier on the line.
“Yes, Miss Willets. I have all your mail.”
“Excellent! When are you going to deliver it?”
“When you move in.”
“Uh . . . but I have. I’ve been living here for about a month.”
“You must be mistaken. My records show that the Captain is still living at that house.”
“Yes.”
“Well, I can’t deliver your mail until he moves out.”
“Um . . . but . . . yeah, you see, he’s not moving out.”
“Well then how would THAT work?” she snapped.
Long pause.
“. . . Ohhhhhhhhhh.”
Very long awkward pause.
She then explained to me that because I live on a rural route I would have to fill out a special card requesting service. I also had to make sure to list my name AND the Captain’s name as mail recipients because since we didn’t share a last name, I wouldn’t be able to get my mail otherwise.
A simple “Welcome to the neighborhood” might have been nice.
Category: Adventures in Adulthood, Memoir, Relationships
6 Comments
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