A few things about today.

1) Krispie Kreme donuts are delicious and soft when microwaved for 8 seconds.

Ohhhhh, 'seconds'. At any rate, by a mer 2 minutes they have already begun to smoke and char to alert you to the mistake...a safety measure that interestingly enough is not boasted on the side of the box.

2) It's entirely possible for me to lose a passive aggressive argument via g-chat. Had you told me this yesterday, I wouldn't believe you. It seems the trick is to say something really sweet, about 3 minutes after you know I've already signed out.

3) Three year olds don't give a shit how sick you are when they want scrambled eggs, crosanka soup and hot cocoa for dinner.

4) Is it seeeeriously snowing on March 27th? Where is the global warming I was promised?

5) So I get into a debate with a friend of mine (this conversation took place on the computer--though was not the above stated fight). The 'argument', was based on my thinking that we are created only by our responses to the way we are seen, and he that we create ourselves by becoming who we pretend to be. I mean, that wasn't it, but it was in that vein. It was interesting and based on a Jenny Lewis line and a Carey Grant quote--People like us deserve just what we get being friends with each other.

So I stayed up for half an hour last night mulling over a few points I forgot to make, finding painful parallels to in my own life as a teenager as examples, as I drifted off trying to formulate an email detailing these wounds of my youth as they pertained to the exact point I was trying to make.

Which I did in the morning, perhaps a bit wordily, but I thought effectively. Lost argument number two came in RE: form... one dismissing little sentence...

"You think too much."

Hm. Fair enough.

6) I've been watching this ABC family show called "Greek" which is something between the 'Gilmore Girls' and 'The OC' (both of which are perfectly clever, and don't judge me...you know you watch 'American Idol' when no one is looking, we are all of us sinners).

Now, to be clear, I wouldn't trade anything I've done in my life for any reason. No other way was going to put me here with my daughter as the person and mother I am today.

None the less, this show has helped me to realize something, just this morning as a matter of fact...if I HAD done things differently, and say, gone to college at the right age, I would have been the best sorority girl.

And now, the world will never know.

And now, one more thing about today...

7) I've clearly completely wasted it.

Well, there's always tomorrow. Which is, I think, a new episode of Greeks for that matter. God bless us, every one.

It always happens...

...that when I buy a new journal because I've been doodling on napkins and torn open cigarette boxes, I suddenly find I have nothing to get out of my system. When I buy red shoes, I find that all of my red blouses are faded and torn, and I never wear the shoes, or blouses again. When I buy my daughter $30 jeans because they're soooo cute and she can wear them all winter, she has her first growth spurt in over a year.

OR, when my myspace blog is being posted in every day and I decide to be a grownup and just go start a real online journal here (Yeah, I know, I said blog, online journal and grownup in the same sentance. Haveave a sense of humor--you're the one reading one), that is the point at which I will have nothing in the entire world to put in it for days.

I just thought I would share that interesting wormhole in the universe.

Well I guess that's what I get.

That poor Lindsey Lohan girl has her personal life leaked out all over the internet, and on a too grey snowy day (first day of spring my ankle, this is absurd.), what do I do but go immediately to youporn to heckle her misfortune?

And it's no wonder that the first thing I see is a curly alburn haired girl in a rather embarassing position...poor thing, she probably doesn't know she's being filmed, just a regular girl...who looks...a little like...ME!?

So I'm frantic, when did this happen, why won't she..I..this girl...turn their head around? Is that my eyebrow? Do I have that mole in my shoulder? Is that the same shoulder?

And wow--is it really such a bony shoulder? This must be from my no red meat days, right?

Franticly, I'm pounding the enter key down on the report button, only to see that it is not to report, but rather to rank. And what's more...I'm not ranking myself very well. Beyond that, I wasn't really doing that good to start if you must know. Seriously? 1.9 out of five average? REALLY. Gold sheets, that must, must be worth an extra point in the ranking system alone...though...why would I EVER find myself in such a situation with someone who had gold sheets?

For the second time in under 2 minutes I jumped frantically into action, but this time inwardly--wracking my brain trying to think of any and every past 'gentleman' in my life that ever had gold sheets, that would ever hate me enough to do this, that would make a video like this without my permission to begin with.

Even with shoulders like that...no one deserves this.

At which point, I noticed something that made me want to cry out with joy...those were not my bony shoulders. They didn't have a generic Mandarin charachter for "friend" on them in solid black ink. And what's more, they didn't have the giant mole on the other side of their shoulder (that I'm probably glad I didn't have to see...it's really about time to get that bad boy sliced off and inspected, I know). And, while I've had that mole for as long as I can remember, I got that tattoo when I was 18. Meaning, before anyone I had ever met had a digital camera (which is what it's recorded with).

Ahhh. That was a close one.

So, as an adult with things like that long behind me (at least so far, but just you wait until the next celebrity porn comes out and I find myself looking upon what I believe to be my own back and profile all over again next month), I turned off the youporn, checked my email, paid my phone-bill online, and came to blog this. But not before, mind you, watching this clip one more time on a friday before noon, in order to rate it very highly a couple more times...because, that back belongs to someone, and when she finds it--well, I know how bad she could feel.

And what's more, I'm no longer looking for Ms. Lohans own laps in judgement either, for much the same reason.

The Monkey, The Mashed Potato, and the Crocodile.

I can now do all three, artfully. There's nothing Youtube doesn't have.

Nothing.

Blogging

There are things about blogging I will never enjoy. Such as, the lack of spellcheck, the need to look up and use HTML, the option of adding smiley faces of any sort whatsoever for any reason whatsoever, and of course, one of my ex-boyfriends getting a link to it from some mutual social party and firing off a drunk email in the middle of the night about how they see I've had a child out of wedlock, and that I'm pretty poor...and that they bet I wish I would have stuck with them now, don't I?



However, there are upsides to blogging, and I suppose when it comes down to it, it remains one of my favorite features of the internet. I'm like an emotional bullemic, I need nothing more than to shove a typing finger down the back of my cyber-throat and purge the empty mental-calories that are every trivial detail of my boring and overthought little life.



So, for a bit of time it was E-Mom, one abrasive single mother's online journal. Of course one little emotional conversation with a 19 year old kid in the Verizon Technical Department in which I may have uttered the phrase "Listen, you little screen gazing dweeb--just do what the grownup tells you to and fix the password mixup on my blog.", and my entire Verizon account dissapeared completley. Note to self: Do not call the teenager in charge of your blog a dweeb under any circumstances, or be ready to lose a million brilliant posts and find a new blog-home...on your myspace.

Ick.

but, as myspace is the place where nothing ever works, and I would like a seperate home for my personal whatnots and my daily ramblings, here I am on blogger.

And I suppose that's all I have to report.