My Random Blog

I am SO tired…

I got a call from the ex (D.) last night/this morning about 3:45 a.m. I came thisclose to not answering, but I thought something might be wrong, so I did. Turns out he needed a ride home from a bad situation he’d found himself in. He was far away from home, and me, and was with people who thought strippers and cocaine were fabulous ideas. Thankfully, that shit isn’t D’s style. So he told his companions that he was going outside to get some air, then left. But he didn’t have his car, so he was walking. He told me that he needed a ride, and didn’t know who else to call.

So I got out of bed, got dressed, and headed out to a nearby town to pick him up and take him home. It only took me about 20 minutes to get to him, and we talked on the phone as he walked down the street, until I got there. I was very glad that he called me when he needed me and that I was able to be there. I became very angry, however, when it occurred to me that not ONE of those losers he was with (his “friends”) had even bothered to try and call him to see where he was! Did they even know he was gone? Did they even care? It’s 4 in the morning, their drunk friend is WALKING home and no one even bothered to take a moment between coke lines to see if he was ok. I pretty much had a fit about that all the way to his house. If I went missing for even 5 minutes- my phone would be ringing ridiculously. Then again, my friends aren’t drug using fuck faces.

I got D. home safe, and came home to bed (about 5 a.m.). It seemed that D. learned a lesson last night and I seriously doubt he’ll allow himself to be in that position again. But if he ever is, he knows he can always call me- and I’ll be there. That’s the non-suck part of our break-up… We are still just a phone call away.

Peace and just say no.

An Open Letter to Loreal,

Stop putting celebrities in your hair color ads. I refuse to believe, for even one-tenth of a second, that Heather Locklear and Eva Longoria sit at home and dye their own hair, and from a box no less. They do not use your hair color, so stop trying to convince me that they do. Do you really think that your target audience is that stupid?

If you want women to consider using your product, then use it on NON-celebrity women who DID dye their hair, at home, using your product. Then put THOSE women in your commercials.

Until then, kiss my ass.

Peace and truth in advertising.

Well, thanks to the suggestions offered by my reviewer at Ask And Ye Shall Receive, I have made some changes to my blog. Mostly it just involves cleaning up my side bar.

I have removed all the unnecessary crap and replaced it all with text links. (All but the Blog Catalog and Blog Rush stuff, obviously.) There’s now an About Me page and a little Award page, as well. I must admit, I prefer things the way they are now. I thought I liked all the images and widgets but, without the clutter, I feel better. Now, my blog looks neat and clean. Not to mention, it loads faster.

I also upgraded WordPress, thanks to the FABULOUS automatic upgrade plugin that (the also fabulous) Gina pointed me to. WAY easier than doing it manually. If you are using WordPress, with your own host, download it here and never have to mess with it, yourself, again. The only thing I had to do was re-activate my other plugins. Yeah- not hard. 

Peace and tidy blogs.

What have I done today? Not much. My head is still feeling the effects of last night’s fun, so today I haven’t been able to do anything but drink fluids and fart around on the computer. I did, however, manage to get an About Me page done. I never know what to write about myself, but hopefully that will suffice.

Last night was a lot of fun… Like Sundays usually are for me. I had to get work out of the way first, which wasn’t fun, but I had the rest of my night to look forward to, so I was in a stellar mood. So much so that my co-workers were wondering what drugs I was on.

We did the usual- hung out at our fave little watering hole (where ex-crush works) and consumed our body weight in beer and shooter goodness, laughed hysterically and listened to karaoke. I got hit on by an icky man with bad tattoos and I found myself flirting shamelessly with my ex-crush again. I couldn’t help it! I was feelin’ flirty and there he was, with all his stupid cuteness. It didn’t help that he was flirting back. Prolonged eye contact is a powerful thing. I should really be more careful with it. Unfortunately, Tuaca and Widmer were controlling the situation a little more than my brain was. I ended up staying after the place closed and then ended up driving stupid cuteness home. And, in the immortal words of Forrest Gump,  that’s all I have to say about that.

I am tired, I am thirsty and I have a load of towels that need to be washed. Oh the glamorous life I lead.

Peace and Tylenol.   

Holy shit. Since that was my immediate response to what follows, there it is.

There is this Web site in the world titled: Ask And Ye Shall Receive. The purpose of this brutally honest, no-holds-barred site is to review blogs that have been submitted by their owners. While the title of the site may not seem very scary- the URL of it gets more to the point: iwillfuckingtearyouapart.blogspot.com.

Back in January, Trouble suggested that I submit my blog to Ask And Ye Shall Receive. I’d never heard of it, so I went over and checked it out. I was immediately terrified and decided that I would NOT, in fact, submit my little blog to being torn apart. However, I loved the reviews, as painful as they were to read. I can’t help but be attracted to people who are honest, smart, and write with a dagger. While I felt bad for the blogs that were “fucking torn apart”, it was hard to not like the manner in which it was done. However, I still wasn’t about to send my blog into that shredder.

Fast forward a couple of months. After a night out with the girls, and many beers, I came home and hopped online. Feeling no pain, and no fear, I submitted my blog to the shredder. Waking up sober the next day, I realized what I had done and have been waiting in anxious trepidation (is that redundant?) ever since.

Today I woke to an email from my reviewer. “You’re so brave,” it read, “I hope you enjoy it!” Deeeeeeeep breath. I, honestly, was dreading reading it. I closed the email. I opened it again. I did that several times before I realized that I was gonna HAVE to read it eventually. So I put my Big Girl panties on and went to my review.

The title of my blog sucks (I already knew that, though), I have too much shit in my side bar (I knew that too) and I could use an About Me page so people who wander in here know who they’re dealing with (I intend to create one). I’m just glad I took my Twitter box out before she got here, or I’m sure she would have tried to stab me in the face. It wasn’t all bad, though. In fact, I was beyond happy with what followed. So happy, in fact, that I didn’t even care that my name was spelled wrong.

You can read my review here: You Can’t See Everyone Naked. And yes, I left a comment.

Peace and fierce women who kick ass.