Brief Apology

I would like to take a moment to apologize for any inconvenience or mental anguish that turning on word verification may have cause you, my beloved cyber-pals. I realize that sometimes they seem unnecessarily long. And I think several have been subtly naughty. Unfortunately, it had to be done. I got whammied with 65 spam comments. Imagine the thrill I received thinking I'd gotten a ginormous influx of comments. And then my little comment greedy heart was crushed. Crushed, I tell you.

I've been meaning to address the situation for sometime now, but was spurred on today by a really complex jumble. It rejected my first attempt. On my own blog.

Ooo. I narrowly avoided turning this into a rant about respect, and how word verification wasn't givin' a girl any.

Apology turned possible rant over.

Random 2am Thoughts

Man, Fudgsicles are good at 2 o'clock in the morning.
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There is a snake in a baggie in my freezer. Child, Daddy says to bury it in the front yard underneath the liquid ambers.
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Dear BlogMad,

I did not click on the wrong number. No. I. Did. NOT.

Sincerely,
Teri M.

p.s. Why is it that only the people with a zillion credits win the lottery? ::pout::
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Is there any way to find out if my little corner of the blogsphere has been ferreted out by Google searches, without having to pay extree? Update: Thanks Will and Threecollie - I've got SiteMeter, but I thought that the keyword thing was only part of the paid package. So, darn. I'm not getting Googled. Uh, I mean, yay - er, no awkward keyword searches are finding me.

Who Cut The...

I should be sleeping. I want to be sleeping. For one thing, I can ignore the heat when I sleep. And for another, the furbabies wake me up at 5am every morning. I should be sleeping.

But no. And The Girl is to blame. Hear me, child? I blame YOU, ungrateful non-sleepy spawn.

When the Bread Winner is out, um, winning bread (and working with people like Sandra Day O'Connor and Green Day) (name dropping? not me!), the aforementioned girl usually sleeps in the CalKing with her adoring mother. Ever tried to get a 12 year old on summer vacation, who slept until 10am, to SHUT UP be quiet and go to sleeeeeep? Precious quote for the day(middle of the night)? "Hey, my butt is, like, farting in time release!" And then a 30 minute continuation and exploration of the phenomenon that is time release farting. I will admit that if you'd been walking past my window 15 minutes into the apparent scientific research, you would have heard my semi-hysterical giggling and the shaking of my bowl full of jelly.

So, now I'm wide awake.

Sigh.

I want to know YOUR results

You Are 40% Weird

Normal enough to know that you're weird... But too damn weird to do anything about it!

How Weird Are You?

Is it weird to be a little disappointed that I'm not weirder?

Take the quiz and let me know YOUR results.

p.s. Yeah, I know, I haven't change the picture yet. I'm shy. And pudgy. Whatev.

Get Me To The Fair On Time

Will be at the county fair today. My sunburn and I will be back late tonight to address whatever comments I didn't yesterday. (Fine, fine I'll change the picture, MamaP! lol)

Greys

I was going to post pictures of my transformation from J-Lo-esque greys, but then I saw the aforementioned photos (which I can not help but pronounce in my head "fo-toes") and changed my mind. Apparently the greys were much more obvious in my mindmirrors. Plus I became scalp shy.

Now I need a haircut. I have yet to find a salon that cuts my hair the way I ask. It's as if I suddenly start speaking Klingon once I'm asked the question,"So, what are you looking for today?"

And I usually end up looking to see if that's a real cosmetology license stuck on their station or if is says "correspondence course" anywhere on it.

It was really all about me.

RE: J-Lo 'n Me

It was really meant to illustrate that I looked very closely (in two or three mirrors, in the full sun) and realized that my roots was showin'. I have since rectified the situation. Whence I have pics I shall post them.

I know you'll be waiting on pins and needles.

J-Lo 'n Me

This is how we roll.

The Scarlet S. And L. And P

Confession time. Bless me Internet for I have sinned...

Here it is: I am not earning my $134,121 a year. No where near it. And I have art to prove it.

I am here to be brandedpresented with my Scarlet S. And L. And P. What, pray tell, do these initials stand for, you ask? Slob. Lazy. Procrastinator. Or to put it in a more grammatically pleasing form: Lazy Procrastinating Slob. I'm so lazy that as I sit here, I am losing the will to type.

This can wait until morning. I'm going to bed.

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Ok, so I didn't go to bed. But you knew that , didn't you? You knew that I stayed on the computer feeding the Obsessively Reading Blog Monster until almost 2am. Why? Because I am a champion Procrastinator. World class, baby. If this were an Olympic event, I couldn't compete, because I am a Professional.

Now, I get a pass on the dining room for the moment, because it is being used as a living room and storage for our currently gutted living room. Of course, that doesn't excuse the dust bunnies. Oh wait, yes it does. Does, too. Afterall, construction dust gets everywhere. He hasn't worked on it in a couple of weeks you say? Shaddup, buster, I say. And I keep the mess in two of the more important rooms down to a dull roar. Usually. These are the two rooms that are most likely to be seen by unexpected company, The Kitchen and the front bathroom. So, I've got that going for me.

This is becoming unconscionably wordy. Even my interest is waning. Oh, wait... that would probably be the laziness kicking in.

So. Let's get down to the nitty gritty. The scenes of my crime. Frankly, I can not bring myself to show you the worst of it. It's too painful. It's too horrific. It's the state of my bedroom. I hang my head in shame. Shame. Remember Jody Foster's room in the original Freaky Friday? Minus any gross old pizza boxes or moldy dishes. I do have some standards. As far as you know. Instead of showing you the train wreck of clothes and boxes and goodness knows what that is the hovel in which I sleep, I'll treat you to the train wreck of paper and art supplies and boxes and goodness knows what that is The Computer Room. It is more multi-purpose than that, but I'm way too lazy for the whole hyphenate thang.

(Deep Breath)(check the notes - I'm addicted to flickr notes!) Here goes:
Mortification
Wasted Space
The Great Distractor
Not All MY Fault
Ok, THIS Is Pretty Much All My Fault

It is my hope that now that I've confessed, I shall go and sin no more. I am a stay at home mom - what else do I have to do?? It's what I get paid for. (Hee, if you don't actually say it you know you think it, huh, Andrea?) Maybe the public can shame me in to action. It's time I started pulling my weight around here.

I'm going to go lie down.

Tomorrow came and I wasn't ready

Due to personality traits that, even at 36, I have yet to outgrow, the promised baring of my soul post will not be, erm, posted. You have my assurance that I am working on it as I type. (Ok, well, not as I type right this second because I'm typing this. But you get my meaning.) In the meantime go here and buy this. It does, indeed, smell like bliss.

Where I Reveal How Windows Inept I Can Be. But Also Dazzle You With My Eclectic Musical Taste.

And that was my entry for Longest. Title. Ever.

The ineptitude part? I tried to make a screen shot of my very first iTunes iMix. To no avail, as I'm sure you've guessed, what with the lack of picture and all. Anyway, while you wait in anticipation for tomorrow's big airing of my ::ahem:: dirty laundry, (and if you have iTunes. Sorry to those who don't. I don't know what to tell you) please check out my iMix!

Velvet Vox's Music to Create Art By


Yup. Exciting stuff. And just so's you know: I look at ya'lls Flickr in slideshow format while listening to #44. I can't hear that song enough. And I sit in my office and sing #43 over and over again. I'm a chronic song repeater.

Am I the only one addicted to other people's Flickr? Should I have maybe kept that to myself?

Will someone tell Blogger's spellcheck that "ineptitude" is a word.

Is so.

Can too much Earl Grey make your head explode?

Holy cow! I've got to get a move on, but I can't seem to stop commenting on everyone's blogs. And they're all chatty and what-not. Must be the ginormous mug of Earl Grey I consumed earlier. Two bags with two packets of Splenda. Two pieces of toast apparently weren't enough to counteract the caffeine.

So, if you see comments and yer like "HUH?", please pardon my caffeine fueled spazziness.

Oh, and to the person from India that is looking at my blog right now? Comment! I love me the comments. Hopefully I will be visiting your country with my spouse next year. (Not to brag or anything. I'm just mentioning it casually.)


Now. Shower. Costco. Chaperone the Band and Orchestra Pool Party for H. (ohjoy) and then H. has a baseball game. MUST GET OFF COMPUTER.

Ok. No time for Costco. Deeeep breath...and maybe a snack.

Spaz, out.

Diamonds (And Rubies) Are A Girl's Best Friend

Well, Mr. Perfect Gift did it again. Last night we had dinner at one of our favorite restaurants, Jack & Guilio's. It was the place he took me for our first date way back in 1987. After a delicious dinner and some lovely wine, he set a black velvet box on the table in front of me. In it was the ring he had given me 18 years ago. About 10 or 11 years ago one of the rubies fell out, so I took it off and put it in a safe place. It's so called "disappearance" caused one of the few real fights we've had. He accused me of not knowing where it was. I went and got it and it's possible that I threw it at him. I'm just saying it's possible. I did throw a fork at him once. Ask him - he loves to tell that story. I wouldn't have actually tried to hit him with it. As far as you know. And in my defense, I threw it at the door he was closing behind him. Uh. Ok. Back to the ring. Apparently he had it in his desk at work until recently. As you can see, now it has two gorgeous new stones. Oooo, preeeety. Shiiiiny.



And then, because I guess he didn't think that was enough, he presented me with another black velvet box. In it? A diamond encrusted wedding band designed to nestle ever so snuggly against my ruby ring. This is a man who listens sometimes when I talk. He heard when I whinedmentioned that I'd never really liked my fat wedding band. (It was on sale. We're were broke. However, it is the original one that he slipped on my finger at the alter. I did not loose mine in Puerto Rico while working. Ahem.) What does he like about the ring, you ask? When I'm not wearing the ruby ring, the band looks like a ZZ Top ring. He actually said that. Such a romantic.

So. Yeah. There were tears. My specs fogged. And then there was free chocolate mousse. With candles, which of course I used to show off my new sparklies. All in all, an excellent evening.

(Bonus: Because the ring pic turned out so crappy, I get to buy a macro lens for my camera. Huzzah!)

Photobooth Friday #6

Check me with the creative titles.

What? Hello? Guess whooooo?? I know, I know - you thought I'd dropped off the face of the earth. Truth is, for the life of me, anything I started to write didn't sound, um, right. Plus I've been reading all these other fantastically insightful, witty and interesting blogs and I felt, frankly, substandard. ::sniff::

I've been mulling over whether or not I should share with you, my dear Internet friends, my deepest, darkest, dirtiest secret. But I worry - will you still love me or will you turn from me in horror and pin a large, scarlet letter on my URL? Will Alison at Brocante Home revoke my Vintage Housekeeper membership? Oops. I think I might have just let the mangy cat out of the greasy, crumpled bag.

Looking back over these short paragraphs, I'm also worried that I might have used up my quota of commas for this month.

Well, while I wrestle with my demons, enjoy my stretching of the definition of photobooth. This fab pic is one of my recent eBay finds. One for which I paid promptly - as I always do. And one which took a month to get to me. I am now sufficiently wary of dealing with newbie eBay sellers. I was hurt, people, and it's been hard for me to move on.

ALSO, I almost forgot - I finally get my birthday present from D., this weekend. Apparently it is mind blowingly good. Like, custom made, even. Stay tuned!

Other Photobooth Friday Fun:

LeSophie
hulaseventy (June 2)
hulaseventy (today)

p.s. Whoever is outside tunelessy whistling? Stop. Stop. With. The. Whistling.

p.p.s. Forgot to say: "June 1949" is written on the back of this classic piece of vacation Americana.