Does anyone else watching Dancing with the Stars and think, “I could do that”? I just watched Kate Gosselin shuffle her stiff little self across the dance floor and thought, “Pu lease! Why does Kate get to be on the show! I would blow her ass right off the dance floor!” Especially if I had a few cocktails beforehand. My rhythm increases ten fold with cocktails. I mean, yes, I know she had like eight babies, but still! I work for lawyers and wear high heeled shoes ALL day – my life is just as toxic and painful as hers. And unlike Kate, I have not had the benefit of scads of plastic surgery and hair extensions. Advantage – Stacey! Ah, the beauty of living life from one’s couch. Safe, secure and risk free. Love it!
The Pussy Cat doll just came out. Hate her. She’s skinny, acne free and appears to possess super shiny silky hair. Bitch! And her name. How can you compete with “Pussy Cat Doll”. Pussy for short. I mean really. It’s just too much. But oh, my can she dance. She’s all twirly wirly, long tan legs and fanciness. Like I said – total bitch. Judge’s love her. They’re sooooo biased when it comes to the good dancers.
Oh, oh, oh! Sexy soap star is dancing! And to Hungry Like the Wolf. RAWR! This is some hot stuff for Monday night TV. His shirt’s all unbuttoned. His little partner is half naked. Oh my! I might need to take up smoking after this. Judge’s are not a fan of this dance – am totally baffled. These people are hot!
Pamela Anderson hits the floor. Honest to God, this woman just exudes trashiness. Who backcombs their bleach blonde hair? While wearing a fuchsia mini-dress! With a thong! I'm not even going to discuss the breasts. Not gonna touch it. You all know what I think about them. The thing about Pam though is she just revels in her trashiness. Gets right down in it. She knows she's seen as a trashy bimbo with an IQ of 5 and she couldn't care less. And this, I have to respect.
Monday, March 22, 2010
Friday, March 19, 2010
Freestyle blogging
Now just so everyone knows, I typically write a little "draft blog" before I acutally post it. Then I read it over several times - correct all the spelling errors and missed words (I am both a speedy thinker and typer - resulting in many missed words) and then I root around on the internet for funny images to go with my story and voila! Tonight, I am freestyling it! That's right. I have no idea what to write and I do not intend to proof read it. Living on the edge. That's me.
So, as I sit here pondering what to blog about my husband is laughing to himself while reading ridiculous things on the internet. Did you know there's a Facebook fan page entitled, "I don't get drunk, I get awesome."? And why are there so many action shots of people vomitting? Who posts this stuff? And why do men find it so funny? There is also an inordinately large amount of videos devoted to women attempting to eating a teaspoon of cinnamon. Seriously. Google it. It's wierd.
Although I do not have any children of my own, like most people in their thirities I find myself trolling through the children's clothing department at least six times per year, looking for "cute" outfits for the children of my family and friends. I had such an excursion this afternoon and it occured to me that children's clothing is sized by age, whereas adult clothing is sized by size. Five year old boys all where size five pants. The same cannot be said for 31 year old women. For more insight into my thoughts on pants' sizes, please see my pants blog. In summary, I hate pants.
While I would love to sit here and contemplate more random crap to entertain you with, I really must get some sleep. I am off to a five year old's birthday party tomorrow and that's going to require a lot of sleep, patience, caffiene and if all else fails, two ativan and glass of wine.
So, as I sit here pondering what to blog about my husband is laughing to himself while reading ridiculous things on the internet. Did you know there's a Facebook fan page entitled, "I don't get drunk, I get awesome."? And why are there so many action shots of people vomitting? Who posts this stuff? And why do men find it so funny? There is also an inordinately large amount of videos devoted to women attempting to eating a teaspoon of cinnamon. Seriously. Google it. It's wierd.
Although I do not have any children of my own, like most people in their thirities I find myself trolling through the children's clothing department at least six times per year, looking for "cute" outfits for the children of my family and friends. I had such an excursion this afternoon and it occured to me that children's clothing is sized by age, whereas adult clothing is sized by size. Five year old boys all where size five pants. The same cannot be said for 31 year old women. For more insight into my thoughts on pants' sizes, please see my pants blog. In summary, I hate pants.
While I would love to sit here and contemplate more random crap to entertain you with, I really must get some sleep. I am off to a five year old's birthday party tomorrow and that's going to require a lot of sleep, patience, caffiene and if all else fails, two ativan and glass of wine.
Thursday, March 11, 2010
Material Girl
Day two of my swinging bachelorette lifestyle is no better than day one. Arguably, it is much worse. First of all, I don’t feel like writing a funny blog tonight. I’m cranky and crabby and I’ve had a TERRIBLE work day. AND I went to Costco after work. Costco! And I didn’t think I needed a buggy because I was only going in to buy ravioli, but then I saw the snack sized mini-cheeses and thought, “yes please”, and then I realized we were out of Kleenex, so I picked that up, and then I almost dropped everything because I DIDN”T HAVE A BUGGY!! BAHHH!!
I made dinner for one, which took the same amount of time to prepare as dinner for two, and when I was finally ready to spew the long and sordid story that was my miserable day, I had nobody to spew to! I mean, yes, yes, I can “phone a friend”. But then they can’t see my hand actions, which are vital to the accuracy and drama of my re-enactments. And then you have to give them all the history, ie. “Jane is married to Bob, who is the brother of Steve, who was the guy that passed out at the Christmas party and peed his pants after the limbo contest.” The history takes up so much time, that people are usually lost or bored by the time you actually start your story, which takes away from much of the drama; thus yielding reduced empathy from your listener. See what I mean? Why even bother?
Now that I have written about the little Costco cheeses, I can hear them calling to me from the fridge. Have you had these cheeses? If not, I suggest you get some straight away. It is a lovely little variety pack consisting of extra aged cheddar, gouda, and edam. The edam is mon favourie! It smells like dirty socks and tastes divine. And with pickles. Two words – Shut Up! Yup. That’s just how good it is.
Ooops, sorry. Little off topic there. Ummm . . . what else, what else? Ah! I have washed and creamed my face, so all I really have left to do is the teeth. I leave those to the last possible moment in case I feel like a snack before bed. I feel positively trashy if I snack after I’ve brushed my teeth for bed. Feels somehow like I’m cheating on my teeth.
In the interests of improving my mood, I have contemplated staging a 10 minute living room dance party. This would also help to burn the calories I am certain to consume when I go to the fridge to visit the Costco cheeses. Favorite living room dance party song = Material Girl. Fo Shure! It can’t be beat. Groovy tune, catchy lyrics. I suppose the routine I perform is more akin to an airband – with lots of finger waiving and hair flips. It’s really quite a show.
Well people, that’s the round up for day two. Pretty exciting stuff. Tomorrow involves a movie date with my sister and obscene amounts of popcorn and M&Ms. The wild life continues!
I made dinner for one, which took the same amount of time to prepare as dinner for two, and when I was finally ready to spew the long and sordid story that was my miserable day, I had nobody to spew to! I mean, yes, yes, I can “phone a friend”. But then they can’t see my hand actions, which are vital to the accuracy and drama of my re-enactments. And then you have to give them all the history, ie. “Jane is married to Bob, who is the brother of Steve, who was the guy that passed out at the Christmas party and peed his pants after the limbo contest.” The history takes up so much time, that people are usually lost or bored by the time you actually start your story, which takes away from much of the drama; thus yielding reduced empathy from your listener. See what I mean? Why even bother?
Now that I have written about the little Costco cheeses, I can hear them calling to me from the fridge. Have you had these cheeses? If not, I suggest you get some straight away. It is a lovely little variety pack consisting of extra aged cheddar, gouda, and edam. The edam is mon favourie! It smells like dirty socks and tastes divine. And with pickles. Two words – Shut Up! Yup. That’s just how good it is.
Ooops, sorry. Little off topic there. Ummm . . . what else, what else? Ah! I have washed and creamed my face, so all I really have left to do is the teeth. I leave those to the last possible moment in case I feel like a snack before bed. I feel positively trashy if I snack after I’ve brushed my teeth for bed. Feels somehow like I’m cheating on my teeth.
In the interests of improving my mood, I have contemplated staging a 10 minute living room dance party. This would also help to burn the calories I am certain to consume when I go to the fridge to visit the Costco cheeses. Favorite living room dance party song = Material Girl. Fo Shure! It can’t be beat. Groovy tune, catchy lyrics. I suppose the routine I perform is more akin to an airband – with lots of finger waiving and hair flips. It’s really quite a show.
Well people, that’s the round up for day two. Pretty exciting stuff. Tomorrow involves a movie date with my sister and obscene amounts of popcorn and M&Ms. The wild life continues!
Wednesday, March 10, 2010
The sexy life of a bachelorette
Well. It has happened. My husband is gone for three whole days and I am footless and fancy free. Woo hoo! Watch me go! What shall I get up to first? With so many options, it’s difficult to decide.
Unfortunately, I have disappointed myself. I think the married me assumes the single me would lead a much more exciting and interesting life. Evidence suggests – not true! Would lead equally boring and stagnant life of couch sitting and wall staring. Grass is always greener. It’s a saying for a reason.
This is only night number one, so perhaps there is hope for me yet. But I have to say – so far, not good. Upon returning home from work, I proceeded to stuff several triscuits into my mouth before racing off to the bathroom to pluck hair from various parts of my body. I adore my tweezers more than life itself and can say with all honesty that they would be my one true and trusted item, were I ever to be marooned on a desert island.
Once all hair removal was complete, I abandoned my work attire for a more comfortable outfit; this consisting of very large jogging pants and a college sweatshirt from 1998. Next on the list – turn the heat up, up, up!! My husband likes to keep our house in igloo like temperatures and when he is gone, I own the thermostat!
By the time I had devoured the previous night’s leftovers, it was only 6:14 p.m. One hour of American Idol, one hour of laundry, and I have started to contemplate exfoliation as a way to pass the time. I thought about a bath, but I have a phobia of my house being burglarized while I am naked and helpless in the tub, so it's really not an option. Irrational phobia? Perhaps.
In an effort to keep busy, I consume a bowl of popcorn and follow it up with several portions of extra aged cheddar and sliced up apples. Fantastic! I have resumed reading my book, but am dangerously close to the end and so I'm trying to ration myself. Must never complete a book without the next read at the ready.
I have checked my email and Facebook at least 9 times each and I am now deeply disturbed by my strong desire for one of my "friends" to update their status. Seriously – nobody has updated their status in hours! I updated mine when I got home from work, but am holding off posting an update until tomorrow – wouldn’t want people to think I am a freak. I have checked all important news websites to ensure there is nothing occurring anywhere in the world that would cause me to lose sleep. For the record, these types of sleep losing news items would include natural disasters (particularly earthquakes), celebrity deaths, and anything to do with extraterrestrials.
And so, there you have it. The life of a bachelorette is not as exciting as it seems. But it does seem conducive to blogging – so stay tuned!
Unfortunately, I have disappointed myself. I think the married me assumes the single me would lead a much more exciting and interesting life. Evidence suggests – not true! Would lead equally boring and stagnant life of couch sitting and wall staring. Grass is always greener. It’s a saying for a reason.
This is only night number one, so perhaps there is hope for me yet. But I have to say – so far, not good. Upon returning home from work, I proceeded to stuff several triscuits into my mouth before racing off to the bathroom to pluck hair from various parts of my body. I adore my tweezers more than life itself and can say with all honesty that they would be my one true and trusted item, were I ever to be marooned on a desert island.
Once all hair removal was complete, I abandoned my work attire for a more comfortable outfit; this consisting of very large jogging pants and a college sweatshirt from 1998. Next on the list – turn the heat up, up, up!! My husband likes to keep our house in igloo like temperatures and when he is gone, I own the thermostat!
By the time I had devoured the previous night’s leftovers, it was only 6:14 p.m. One hour of American Idol, one hour of laundry, and I have started to contemplate exfoliation as a way to pass the time. I thought about a bath, but I have a phobia of my house being burglarized while I am naked and helpless in the tub, so it's really not an option. Irrational phobia? Perhaps.
In an effort to keep busy, I consume a bowl of popcorn and follow it up with several portions of extra aged cheddar and sliced up apples. Fantastic! I have resumed reading my book, but am dangerously close to the end and so I'm trying to ration myself. Must never complete a book without the next read at the ready.
I have checked my email and Facebook at least 9 times each and I am now deeply disturbed by my strong desire for one of my "friends" to update their status. Seriously – nobody has updated their status in hours! I updated mine when I got home from work, but am holding off posting an update until tomorrow – wouldn’t want people to think I am a freak. I have checked all important news websites to ensure there is nothing occurring anywhere in the world that would cause me to lose sleep. For the record, these types of sleep losing news items would include natural disasters (particularly earthquakes), celebrity deaths, and anything to do with extraterrestrials.
And so, there you have it. The life of a bachelorette is not as exciting as it seems. But it does seem conducive to blogging – so stay tuned!
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