Tag Archives: silly shit

Friday Fluff – The World Be Small

Remember the Friday Fluff craze that swept the nation?  Lisa from Seeking Elevation started it, if I rightly recall.  I was feeling the need for a fluffier life and thought this might just be exactly what the doctor ordered.  Except I couldn’t get it together to look for a quiz, so I went and stole Lisa’s.  Which goes to show you that crime really does pay.

This week’s survey was created by some nameless, faceless weirdo.  A moment of silence for the unspoken homie.


flowers, purple, painting, simple, canvas - Purple Flowers II

Art by elisaann


Which word did you say first, mama or dada?
My mom has very little information for me as to my early years.  I do know that I liked strawberry pop in my bottle and I had little to no hair until I was three.

How old were you when you learned to walk?
I’m going to assume before age five, which is the earliest I think I can remember anything.  Pretty useless things like what the ceiling of our town home looked like.  I liked to lay on the floor and imagine what it would be like to live on the ceiling as pristine and white as it was.  Clearly there were some troubling issues early on.

What was your first pet’s name?
Dandy.  It was a bird.  My mom thinks I named it that because I missed my dad.  Dandy/Daddy.  I hope so because if not it is one dumb fucking name.

How many kids were in your class in kindergarten?
Holy fuck, really?  I do remember that I went the the New School in Omaha, NE for kindergarten.  It was a badass hippie school with a reading loft and a slide.  I also remember going upstairs to the library there and getting shivved in the ankle with a pencil by some doucheblanket.  I still have the lead market.  See?  Issues.

What was your third grade teachers name?
Miss Bradley.  She was a total goddess in my eyes.  She took us on adjective walks and she took care of the horses(one of the actual perks of growing up in a hippie commune/religious cult was having horses to ride on an awesome campus in Malibu).  I loved her so very much.  She died.  Later, I mean.  But still too young.  She was kind to me.  That was unusual for those times.

What do you remember most from when you were 5?
All that New School business, I guess.  Also, I remember having a herd of imaginary horses that I would exercise daily in the cul-de-sac behind our house.  They all had names and different places they liked to run.  #seeingapattern

Who was your best friend in elementary?
We moved to Cali when I was in third grade.  After that, Alyssa Bogan and Christina Wolberd.  They are still lovely and amazing women.  Before that, Ted Eiel and David Rosen.  The dudes I lost track of along the way, but my dear old friend Google just re-intro’d me to them.  And they also seem lovely and amazing.  And pretty damn interesting.  The world is just too damn small.

Where was your mom working when you started jr.high
In the kitchen at Camelot.

What was the name of your first real bf/gf?
Bf – Stewart.  Gf – Tiffany.  It’s way less porn-ish than it sounds.

How old when you got your first kiss?
Six.  Seven.  It wasn’t all that memorable.

Who was your favorite teacher in jr high?
Mr. Melchor.  Let me tell you I am having a roller coaster ride down memory lane tonight, y’all.  First Ted and David with their bigger than life lives and now Mr. Melchor is on the FB?  And he said he remembers me, although he is probably too kind to say otherwise.

As a teacher, he ruled the school.  There wasn’t a student that didn’t think he was amazeballs.  He played games and told stories and made the history come alive and stick to your ribs so you could not only pass tests, but retain facts for years to come.  He used to tell stories at lunch in the cafeteria to thongs of kids.  The Odyssey, The Red Badge of Courage.  And he was kind to me.  Again, that was a rarity  for me when it came to adults.  Most figured me as the hell in a handbasket type.  But not him.  Best.Teacher.Ever.

What was the worst thing you did at 13?
I got expelled from the church/cult.  I don’t really remember what the straw was that done me in, but we had longstanding beef.  Whatever I did, I know it didn’t deserve expulsion and ex-communication.  It was probably for the best, but still felt shitty to be sent away from my mom and sis and all my friends.

What song reminds you of summer vacation ?



Oh, there was dancing and lip syncing.  Oh yes.  There was.

What do you remember most about jr.high?
That is was clearly the ninth circle of hell.  Also a lot of counseling heart-broken peeps longing for each other in a circular pattern so no one could ever really be together and happy.  Also, puberty.  It made the ninth circle look good.

Who was the best athlete in your freshman class?
My freshman class was me, two dorks and a foreign exchange student.  Spin the wheel.
What teacher did all the highshcool boys have a crush on?
Oh god, the idea of that is horrible.  There was no hotness on either side of the gender divide.
What subject did the best teacher teach in high school?
I’m going to go with either a)Jungian therapy or b) Ecstasy because I a)didn’t go to high school, b)spent most of the years between 16 and 18 in a mental hospital for depression and family problems(That was a diagnosis.  The 80′s were kind to shrinks.  Mine had a DeLorean.) and c)was spun from doing X the previous night the day I took the ACT’s(still got a 34, bitches).
Would you rather relive elementary. jr high. or highshcool?
Elementary.  Pre-cult preferably.

What was the last name of the person that you disliked in highschool?
Lee.  First name Sunshine.  She was evil.  She read my Hello Kitty diary.  Why did I have a Hello Kitty diary in the first place?  I was 12 and living in a dorm at my cult, people.  Not a lot of rationality to be found round those parts.

She read all this stuff I wrote about how mean she was and it got even worse.  Then I wrote all kinds of sunshine up the ass about Sunshine and left it out so she would read it.  She was nice after that and we eventually became friends.  I still miss her.  Google can’t find her.

If you could change anything in your teenage years what would you change?
I was mean to some people.  I really regret that.  I wish I could change it, take it back, make it better.  But I can’t.  And if it’s not helping them, you have to lay off.  Forgiveness isn’t a given.

Also, I wouldn’t peg my jeans.  So lame.

Greatest moment of your highshcool days?
Ecstasy.   Don’t do drugs, kids.  M’kay?

Worst moment?
Every other moment.  The culmination probably being the final goodbye, ex-communication thingie.

Was highschool your best yrs or is now your time?

Um, no.  I’m pretty sure it’s tomorrow.

Saturday Fluff – HYE

Remember the Friday Fluff craze that swept the nation?  Lisa from Seeking Elevation started it, if I rightly recall.  I was feeling the need for a fluffier life and thought this might just be exactly what the doctor ordered.  Except I couldn’t get it together on Friday, so….

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This week’s survey was created by some weirdo on Myspace.  Is Myspace even a thing anymore?  I thought the mighty boot of Mark Zuckerberg had annihilated it from this plane of existence.  Maybe that was just an unconscious desire.

flowers, purple, painting, simple, canvas - Purple Flowers II

Art by elisaann

Have you ever:
Gotten a Brazillian Wax?
Yes.  I love a good Brazilian.  Of course now I’m old/gross/married/a mother and don’t have the time and/or inclination.  I used to go to Tsunami Day Spa on the Upper East with my girl E, but Wax On in Ptown was a revelation.  No more holding your legs in the air while having hair ripped from your bits.  They have their technique down.  They’re also all super kewt Portland girls and they have a bottle of whiskey in the waiting area for pain relief or as courage aid.

Open a Star Burst with your Tounge?
Why would you even try this?  I am not a fan of fruit even in candy form.  I would much rather have a Tootsie Roll(or 20), but I would never try to unwrap it that way.  Gross.

Had a Spit Ball Fight?
Ugh, I think once in 4th grade.  Gross.

Peed in a Pool?
I can honestly say not lately.

Laughd so Hard you Cried?
On the plane to Houston the other day my kid was chatting up the folks behind us as we waited to exit.  Started off the convo by asking the woman how her day was.  This is from my three-year-old, y’all.  They asked him all the ushe questions, fave color, name, age.  He asked the guy who told him 5-3.  The kid said, that’s old.  Then he said, my dad’s hair fell out and he’s old.  I cried.  I choked.  SO awesome.

Drank Something that Came out your Nose?
Gross.  Who the fuck does that?

Cooked Something Without Burning it?
Ever?  Yes.  I don’t think I’ve ever really burned anything I’ve cooked except maybe bagels because they never fit in the damn toaster.  I did drop my husband’s cookie crust for his birthday fruit pizza as I took it out of the oven.  And then had to go to two stores to buy more cookie dough.

Gotten So Drunk you Couldnt Remember WTF you Did?
So many more times than should even be mentioned.  Typically a large part of drug and alcohol addiction.  The stuff I remember is bad enough.  Thank stuff and junk for brain damage.
Been on a Boat Without Getting Sea Sick?
I got married on a cruise to Alaska two year ago and never got sick.  But I do get sick at the movies, on planes and spinning my kid in circles.  Getting old is for the birds.
Watch the Sun Come Up?
Again, I saw a lot of sunrises in the drunken days.  Through a haze of smoke, substances and regret.  Otherwise, not lately.  I am a sleep miser.

Cut your Wrist?
This just got too real, yo.

Lost a Sock in the Laundry?
And now, not so real.
Held a Snake?
Heh heh.

Went a Week Without Takeing a Shower/Changeing your Clothes?
You know, probably.  Depression is a motherfucker.  There wasn’t always a lot of cleansing going on in conjunction.

Been Called a Bitch?
If you haven’t been called a bitch at some point, you’re doing something wrong.  Or really right.
How about a Fag?
Not that I’m aware of, but I really hate that word.  I did call Lisa one, but purely for the sake of comedy.

My bestie’s ex-husband once spread a rumor we were a lesbian couple because holy shit, who wouldn’t have wanted to be married to him?  Answer: every woman I know.  But I don’t know that the word queer was involved.  I actually love that word and would be cool with being called it, especially as a synonym for eccentric or odd.  Odd people are the coolest.

Not to my face.

I’ve been called a slore many times, but I think that means she loves me.

See above.

Had a Bf/Gf?
I have had bf’s, but I’m married now so I don’t have to worry about that nonsense.  I once had a gf too and she was lovely and my bff, but the whole vagina thing ended up being a deal-breaker for me.  She was way too good for me anyway.

Went Golfing?
I took golf lessons and then promptly got preggers and was unable, due to massive instability, to hone my craft.  So, no.

Had Jello Shots?
Yes.  Gross.  I like my drinks in liquid form.  Except for maybe pudding shots.

Source: justapinch.com via Lucid on Pinterest

Had a Big Crush but they didnt Like You Back?
Oh yeah.  I have one now.  His name is Ewan McGregor and he’ll probably love me someday.

Pierced Anything?
My nose once upon a time and an undetermined amount of ear piercings.  I never even wear a single pair.  Because I’m old, y’all.  Too old and tired to mess with things such as those.

Had a Tattoo?
I have five.  I’m done now.  I like all of them, but wish I hadn’t added on to the one on my wrist.  I love the lotus on my foot like whoa.

Smoked a Ciggarette?

Good lord, I smoked for 20 years until I quit 8 years ago(OLD).  I loved every minute of it, but quit when I developed Reynaud’s.  Hardest thing I ever did.  Best thing I ever did.  I am now the worst kind of human – a reformed smoker.  I can sniff it out and I am not amused.

Smoked Weed?
Gross.  I hate weed.  I smoked it a few times and once had a psychotic episode while smoking on lithium.  Not so much fun as horrific.  Kinda turned me off of it for life.

Went Over your cell minutes?
My husband went over his texts and we had to bump him up to unlimited, but we hardly use the phone minutes.

Drank a RedBull?
Gross.  They reek.  My husband likes to drink them in the car on long road trips and they make me want to barf.

Sang karaoke?
No.  I am far too chickenhearted for that.

Workd Out At a Gym?
Yes, but not recently.  I need to get back.  I need to be a hamster on a wheel and kick this sciatica out of my ass.
Toilet Papered Someones House?
I think we did once upon a time, but I’m not sure if it was real life or a movie.
Made a Funny Video?
My mom just told me about a cassette tape(OLD) that I made as a child about some color experiment I was doing and an audio letter to my dad in which I told him I thought he was a millionaire.  Does that count?
Made a sex video?
Trust is defined as: knowing there is a sex video out there and that it’s in the right hands.

Made Fun Of Somebody and got caught?
I’ve been caught talking smack about someone, but not making fun of them.  Either way, you’re the shitheel in the equation.

Got spanked By your Parents?
Yes.  I don’t spank my kid because of it.  At least something good came from it.

Stolen Your Familys Car?
I technically stole my sister’s car when she was out of town to move my stuff out of my apartment.  She was very upset.  Again, I was the shitheel.  It was kind of my role in the family.
I also tried to talk my bestie into stealing her parents car and driving to Vegas.  She was not a shitheel so my idea was rebuffed.

Friday Fluff – What I Am is Weirdo

Remember the Friday Fluff craze that swept the nation?  Lisa from Seeking Elevation started it, if I rightly recall.  I was feeling the need for a fluffier life and thought this might just be exactly what the doctor ordered.

This week’s survey was created by some Weirdo.  Not me.  A completely unrelated weirdo.

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flowers, purple, painting, simple, canvas - Purple Flowers II

Art by elisaann


How tall are you barefoot?

About an inch shorter than I used to be.  I was 5′ 9″ at my last physical.  I’ve been 5′ 10″ since I was twelve.  Bodies are weird.

Have you ever smoked heroin?

What the huh?  No.  But I was a cokehead in a former life.  Or earlier in this one.  Pretty glad I never went there or I’m pretty sure I wouldn’t be here.

Do you own a gun?

Um, no.  Despite living in Texas for many a year I do not now, nor will I ever, own a gun.  Do you people read the statistics?  How much more likely you are to be shot with your own gun by an intruder?  Or the accidental shooting stats?  Guns don’t kill people, the dumbasses who buy guns kill people.


Is that an offer?  I’ll pass on that today.  Been there, done that.  Thank all the stuffs.  Sixteen years and counting.  If you’re considering it and you’re on the fence, my vote is you give it a whirl.  My life has been forever changed.  For the better  too.  You can do it.  I believe in you.

Do you get nervous before


What do you think of your friends?

I think my friends kick ass.  I think my friends are glorious and flawed and silly and brilliant.  I think that life would be a lot, well, less without them.  I think they have limitless potential.  I think I’ll keep them.

What’s your favorite Christmas song?

I really, really love Christmas.  Like Clark Griswold type love, y’all.  And I love the accompanying music just as much.  So it’s hard to pick one song.  I love Joy to the World because it reminds me of my Gramma Mary and her joyful nature.  Dripping with the wist and nostalgia, Have Yourself A Merry Little Christmas makes me bawl every year.  But it’s Ray Conniff’s We Wish You a Merry Christmas album that really brings home the spirit for me.

What do you prefer to drink in the morning?

Water.  And then a little more water.  I had to give up coffee due to that pesky addictive personality thing I’ve got going on.  When I got sober, I started drinking a pot in the am and pm with multiple ventis in between.  You think I might have been trying to replicate a cocaine high?   Every now and then I’ll order a black, decaf iced coffee because I love it so.  I get wired every time.  From decaf.  And not in a good way.

Do you do push-ups?

Have you seen me lately?  Hell to the no would be an understatement.

Have you ever done ecstacy?

*shaky granny voice*  I remember the good old days when X was called X and it was cut with heroin.  Ah, youth.  And heroin.  Good times.  Really.  They were really, really good times.  Except the day after.  That serotonin dip was a killer.

Are you vegitarian?

This is me, acting as if I don’t see your glaring spelling errors.  Lalala, it doesn’t bother me.  Not AT ALL.

Yes, I am a vegetarian.  Grew up that way and loathe the texture of meat.  Also, have you seen like any food exposé ever?  Grody to the max, yo.  I prefer to eat myself into the diabeets with the excessive sugar I consume to Mad Cow Disease eating my brainstem.

Do you like painkillers?

I am beginning to think that this Quizmaster is either:

a)A drug seeker feeling me out to see if I’m holding.

b)A drug dealer feeling me out to see if I’d like to cop.

c)Hunter S. Thompson

d)Obsessed with Hunter S. Thompson

But actually, no.  I never liked the downers.  Except the downer that disguises itself as an upper – alcohol.  We depressed lot like to go upwards with our substances, or at least this depressed lot did.

I was given 30 vicodin when I had knee surgery two years ago.  I took exactly one-half.  I took one more last year when my sciatica flared up.  They are now expired.  I had to ask my doctor for more for our seven day drive to Texas which is not not happening.  That convo was super fun.  I felt like a total drug seeker.  Oh yeah, I never take that stuff.  I never even take ibuprofen.  I just need some drugs in the case I get a flare up while driving.  Which is all totally true, but not very convincing.  At least to a former addict.

What is your secret weapon to lure in the opposite sex?


What time did you wake up today?

2:45.  5:17.  6:50.  8:00.  11:30.  The first four times were because my kid hadn’t pooped in three days and his guts hurt and kept waking him.  The last time was because my husband let me sleep in because my kid had me up all night not pooping.  Motherhood is a glamorous thing.

Current worry?

Getting the Trifecta post done and getting to bed before 2:45.

Current hate?

My bestie used to tell me I shouldn’t hate anything.  I think that’s good advice although at the time I totally fucking hated it.

I don’t know…tomatoes?  Bigotry and small-mindedness?  Poor spelling?

Do you own slippers?

Do you burn or tan?

I used to tan.  Now nothing really happens at all.  Which I blame on Oregon.  It’s hard to be affected in any way by the sun when it doesn’t exist where you are.

What songs do you sing in the shower?

I’m not a shower singer.  I’m a shower talk-to-myself-er.  If my husband’s home, I maintain an inner dialogue.  Don’t judge me, it’s only a problem if someone else starts talking back.

How many TVs do you have in your house?

Three.  They are all ridiculously large thanks to my husband owning a penis.  We only use the main one and I use it more than anyone.  Because I love me some teevee.  I really want to say something about how much I love One Tree Hill, but I have called a temporary moratorium lest y’all think I am even more of a weirdo than I actually am.  But seriously:


Do you wish on stars?

Yes.  I do all that stuff.  Stars, eyelashes, falling stars.  I am all about the superstition.  There is magic out there.  I still believe it to be true.

What song do/did you want played at your wedding?

I got married on a cruise to Alaska sans music, but this was on our wedding CD.


What song do you want played at your funeral?

I know I’ve answered this before, but I’m too lazy busy to check.  You’re welcome.


Do you love someone?


I Is Writer Now?

Hey-ay, ho-o, I am an ACW(making this happen)!  Otherwise known as an official community writer for the Hillsboro Argus if you’re nasty.  Or nice.  We serve both at this table.  Check me out and feel free to suggest any topics you think I should tackle.

So now’s the time when I start my little song and dance, my distraction extraordinaire to help you forget the lack of drivel I have been perpetrating upon the internets of late.  How about a little music to climb right down through your auricle and into the organ of Corti in your cochlea.  Otherwise known as the hearing hairs on your inner ear.  Bam, knowledged ya.  Now back to the 80′s with you.

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And now, because apparently what I do when I have no time(asshole alert), inclination(sloth alert) or properly functioning synapses(Alzheimer’s alert) is get scared and throw my kid at you, here are some randoms from the mouth of a frakkin awesome, red-haired, silly-headed hell beast.


When I asked the kid what show he wanted to watch he said, Nicky Nuts.  When I asked him what it was about he said, a couch.  When I asked him where he got it from he said, the world.  I mean, obvi Mommy.
Tasia is my friend.
Really?  What does she look like?
A jellyfish.
What does that look like?
What’s your favorite word?
Metro Man and Stinky Pete.

And no, this does not make me a mommy blogger.  Dear sweet everysinglething, I’m not a mommy blogger, am I?  Fuck.   Now Imma throw some gangsta lite up in yo grill.  Assuring that I am, indeed, a motherfucking mommy blogger.  But I don’t know any gansta rap.  Except for Geto Boys.  Holding it down, H-town stylo.  Be forewarned, dudes is gangsta.  They will mos def offend.  Since I’m not really much of a gangland afficienado, I’ll play to my wheelhouse with this clip.  Which I cannot embed, but you really should click if you revel in nerditry and humor.  If not, skip through til 5:53  if you merely want to hear my wet dream of a rap song.

I’m here, I’m queer(not in the badass, I’m gay and I know it way.  More like the not quite well(hm, Trifecta?) in the B-rain kinda way.), get used to(hearing lots of rambling parathesized explanations of my clumsy word usage) it.  Bam, double parenthesized ya.

Friday Fluff – A Day Without Fluff Is A Less Fluffy Day

Remember the Friday Fluff craze that swept the nation?  Lisa from Seeking Elevation started it, if I rightly recall.  I was feeling the need for a fluffier life and thought this might just be exactly what the doctor ordered.

This week’s survey was created by:  Dr. georgejones23

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flowers, purple, painting, simple, canvas - Purple Flowers II

Art by elisaann


Would you eat green eggs and ham?

I would be far more likely to eat green eggs, even if they were questionable, than I would ham.  So completely gross.

Would you bunge jump?

If I decided someday that life was a)not worth living or b)not worth living without compound fractures and spinal cord injuries, then sure.  Also if I took up the recreational use of PCP because I heard those guys can fly.


Would you play strip poker?

I cannot seem to motivate myself to care enough to learn to play poker.  Also, the awesome factor of public nudity is greatly reduced post-baby and post-40.  Exceptions include:




photo from binsidetv

Would you jump from a plane?

If I could fly or had borrowing rights to the Iron Man suit then, yes.

Would you swim with sharks?

I feel as if I’m on Fear Factor, The Questionaire.  Is this a new show?  Are you gonna ask me to eat rat intestines while up to my neck in a pit of dung beetles?

Would you dance in your underwear?

That’s pretty much the only way I do it these days.

Would you lie about your age?


Would you sleep naked?

I am skeeved by naked sleep.  I know y’all think it’s sensual and free-spirited.  I think that you sensual, free-spirits have issues with yeast and bacterial infections.  Cover yo shit, plz and ty.

Would you kiss and tell?

That I kissed?  The best part of all of that is talking about it afterward.  Clearly.

Would you sneak into a movie?

When I was 12, I sneaked(it so feels as if it should be snuck) into Sudden Impact in which someone got impaled upon a carousel horse at the end.  Rad.  Later that year I sneaked into Scarface with Lisa D. and possibly Zara(?).  I a weird dude in a Member’s Only jacket and parachute pants buying us tickets and the tears running down my friends face in response to the violent bloodbath on the screen.  I also remember thinking, what other stuff is out there.

But now that I am of any for everything other than retirement or the senior citizen discount, I buy my own ticket.

Would you undress in public?

Have I or would I?  Strippers kinda have to, it’s in the job description.  Now I change in the bathroom.  Age appropriateness and all.

Would you go skinny dipping?

There are a lot of variables and criteria that are going to need to be satisfied in order for this to go down.

  1. Darkness.  And lots of it.
  2. Currently displaying optimal weight to height ratio.
  3. Alcohol.  And lots of it.
  4. The proper amount of privacy.  RE: lots of it.
  5. The right phase of the moon, placement of the planets and condition of maintenance on the lower 48.

Would you steal a car?

I find you mildly ridiculous, quiz master.  Let’s test convention and morality instead of willingness to maintain law and order.

Would you play Santa Claus?

Sure, if I wanted to assure that every child in the room lose the magic of Christmas on the spot.  You are heartless, quiz master.

Would you take candy from a baby?

Absofuckinglutely.  Babies can’t have candy.  They have few teeth, if any.  They could choke and die.  For getting in the way of me and my sweet, sweet candy.  Eff off, babies.  Get your own.

R.I.P., Montreal

One Tree Hill, or Montreal to one of my bestie’s adorbs little sisters, said peace out last week.  I am a lover of shows, often those that center around adolescents and their crazy dramas and struggles.  I loved 90210(the OG), MSCL, Melrose Place, Dawson’s Creek, Party of Five and the list goes on.

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I didn’t get down with Tree Hill until a couple of years in at the relentless behest from another adorbs little sister of said bestie.  And all of a sudden I loved it.  The crazy shenanigans were fun, the drama was…well, dramatic and the episode titles were epic.  And then there was the music.  They had an indie, ears to the ground quality that I found pretty freaking rad.  The soundtrack fit the mood and was always comprised of shit you wouldn’t hear on the radio.  It was like a weekly mix tape from a cool sophomore with an uncle in a kickass ska band and a penchant for the drums and French films from the 60′s.

But even with all that, I was really in it for the characters.  I didn’t care that the acting wasn’t top shelf and that the storylines included a killer nanny and a Russian mafia kidnapping scheme.  The Scott family, Brooke and Julian’s twins, the goof troop with the sexy bod, Quinn James and all the rest made it worth my while to hang out there every week.  I’m sorry to see them go.  My 42 year old ass is not at all ashamed to say that I cried big, fat tears as the gang belted out the theme song alongside old Gavin DeGraw.  It was a lovely sendoff.

Loves ya, Millie and Mouth.  See ya Haley James.  Peace out, Brooke Davis.  Sayonara, Skills.  Good night, River Court.  I love all y’all.  Yes, even you, Chris Keller.  Thanks for the memories.  I don’t want any of you to be anything but what you’ve been trying to be lately.  Don’t be anything other than you.


Stuff I Starred Saturday – It’s Baack

You might have noticed that I haven’t been posting SISS for quite some time.  You also might not have noticed.  Probably more likely the latter.  But no matter because it’s back for a limited time at the very least.  The hiatus was not due to any lack of awesome on the internetties, but much more to do with my inherent laziness multiplied by that depression motherfucker added to I just started school.

Hey y’all, guess what I learned at school this week.  You can search for information on Google.  It has like, all the knowledge of the world.  Also, accept and except mean two totally different things.  And finally, a Master’s degree does not absolve one of the need to shower.

And now it’s almost Easter, which to a non-Christian(me) doesn’t mean a whole hell of a lot.  It’s like the anti-holiday holiday.  Except for the Cadbury mini eggs, which are leading me down the road to diabetes one egg at a time.  One egg, one bag.  Tomato, tomato.

Easter has never really been a big deal in our home, even when we were technically Christians.  Which was to say, not at all by the standards of other Christians.  Something about living communally with a charismatic leader while praying to many “Masters”(sorta like saints or mini gods or Steve Jobs) doesn’t really go over to well with the Jesus crowd.  The best thing about Easter was the new dress.  The worst thing about Easter was the potential to spend up to twelve long hours sitting on the hard ass ground of Ascension Hill while we wait for some “Master” to dictate to us through their conduit, Mother.  Let me tell you, I would rather go naked for a week than suffer through that, and the subsequent lobster-like burn, again.

So Easter has always been a non-event for me.  But dudes, now a have a kid.  A kid that could potentially help me re-live all the cool shit about childhood.  Egg dying was cool, we should do that shit.  Easter baskets were cool, check.  Egg hunts were balls out.  I once won the hunt by finding a marble egg.  Awesomesauce.  Sweet, my mom’s group has an annual egg hunt so I don’t even have to plan the shit myself.  I just stuff a few eggs, bring something yummy and show up.  I am so making Pioneer Woman’s Vanilla Scones.  I am a domestic goddess.  I make Cake Batter Muddy Buddies AND Cake Batter Rice Krispies.  I scoff at vanilla scones.  And then I devour them.  With my mouth.

Why didn’t anyone tell me that scones require specialized equipment?  Pastry cutters and sifters and rolling pins.  I mean, who has this shit?  It’s archaic.  Everyone must know by now that you can buy the cookies already cut out.  You just stick them in the oven and it’s homemade goodness.  In my mouth.

So I McGyver’ed up some specialized kitchen shit and did the thing.  PW told me(and the rest of the viewing and/or reading public) that the dough would be quite crumbly.  Oh, P Dub, you so crazy.  I scoff at crumbly dough.  Until I’m left, weeping, with a crumbly pile of dough that refuses to be rolled out flat by my coffee thermos rolling pin.  Somehow I manage to soldier on and create some pretty tasty cakes drenched in tastiness.  But these are not the lovely, perfect scones of one Mrs. P. W. Diddy.  No, these are the bastard children of the guy that services the septic tank of a passing acquaintance of the lady in question.  But even bastard children can taste great if you glaze them with vanilla infused icing.  Let that be a lesson to you all on the true meaning of Easter.  Sugar heals all wounds.

There is so much more to link to, but so little time.  As always Trifecta, Seeking Elevation, Karen is Muttering, Bugginword.  I am currently obsessed with Crack You Whip.  The first link is to one of her hilfreakinglarious posts.  Read that shit.  You will probably pee your pants.  You may even die.  Of laughter.  Read everything she had written and then beg her for more.  Seriously.  I can’t because I’m too lazy.  There’s also that matter of showering every day.  It’s eating up my free time, yo.

The Prince of Whales


Mdk:  Vegan Cheese Cake


It Gets Better at BYU


go on… scan it…


A Softer World: 793


And then this piece of fried gold happened because I’m the luckiest person ever


Petite Vanilla Scones






Friday Fluff – Temporary Boredom is Weird

What badass mamajama started the Friday Fluff craze that’s sweeping the nation?  Lisa from Seeking Elevation, that’s who.  Read her often hilarious, totally irreverent and always honest replies to surveys posted to Quizopolis.com.  And join in.  I double dog dare ya.

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This week’s survey was created by:  SaFaLa

flowers, purple, painting, simple, canvas - Purple Flowers II

Art by elisaann

Do you believe in unicorns?

I believe in the power of fictional animals as kickass totems.  The phoenix is kinda my deal.  I do like the idea of an animal that poops glitter and/or rainbows and would strongly petition for the creation of such an animal should the creator ever ask my thoughts on the matter.

How many of you does it take to screw in a light bulb?

Unfortunately there is only one of me.  I can appreciate the appeal of the clone situation, but have taken Multiplicity as a cautionary tale.  Hey Steve, didja bring me any pizza, Steve?


Are you single?

Sorry dudes.  This lady is taken.  And sorry, chicks.  This lady is like a one on the Kinsey scale.  Two, tops.

Do you like pickles?


How do you feel about meadows?

They remind me of a)P.E. or b)douching.

Have you heard of Flarp!?

Yes.  And, while I believe it’s pretty cool shit for kids, the double punctuation thing slightly befuddles and enrages me.

Ever flipped a turtle over?

Like from front to back?  Because that’s some mean ass shit, right there.  But from back to front is like a superhero move.  It doesn’t take much in the world of turtles.  I am like a god to them.  You can be too.  We can rule in the land of the turtles forever.  Mwah ha ha.

Do you like to doodle?

I do doodle.  I am a doodler.  I doodled in class today.  Because otherwise I may have gone blind, deaf and dumb from sheer and utter boredom.

How do you feel about long socks and chucks?

Like Chuck Taylor’s?  Because they are the shiz.  My faves.  Long socks are always bad unless you’re:

a)a schoolgirl
b)dressing up like a naughty schoolgirl
c)camping or hiking in mosquito infested areas
d)older than dirt

Would you rather find a four leaf clover or a heads up penny?


Fucking four leaf clover.  I mean, who really finds that shit?  Except for leprechauns and the Irish.  And they’re probably really just leprechauns who make us all weak in the knees with their dreamy accents because they don’t want to share their pots of gold with the rest of the world.

Ever squirted orange juice in your eye?

You have a variety of issues that I don’t even want to begin to get into in this post.  Email me privately if you’re interested in a diagnosis and/or some pretty intensive and ongoing psychotherapy.  And, no.

Do you keep a journal/diary?

This blog is the closest thing that these days.

Do you play an instrument?

I can pick out a few things on the piano and remember none of the guitar I learned in college.  But I enjoy the maracas.

What is your favorite sound?

The sound of the door slamming behind you on the way out.  Or like, summer rain.

How many kisses on the lips have you given?

Oh very young, what will you leave us this time?

What’s your favorite ride at the amusement park?

Which amusement park?

Magic Mountain – the Colossus because it was super badass in my youth and you can ride it forward or backwards.

Disneyland – It’s a Small World for the kitsch and the nostalgia.

Universal Studios – The Studio Tour so I could overcome my childhood terror at Jaws biting the trolley in two.

Peony Park(now defunct) – Sprite Night, which was not so much a ride as a musical par-tay.

Adventureland – I don’t really remember any of the rides because we only went there once and I was super young, but they slapped a bumper sticker on our brown Gran Torino which stayed there for the life of the car, to my mother’s great dismay.

Only one more month, fellow nerds, until Avengers assemble.  They have a Hulk.  Hell yeah, they do.

Friday Fluff – Super Dee Duper Special Awesome Fun Time

What badass mamajama started the Friday Fluff craze that’s sweeping the nation?  Lisa from Seeking Elevation, that’s who.  Read her often hilarious, totally irreverent and always honest replies to surveys posted to Quizopolis.com.  And join in.  I double dog dare ya.

This week’s survey was created by:  Heartache14

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flowers, purple, painting, simple, canvas - Purple Flowers II

Art by elisaann

Are you awesome?

Haven’t I answered this question already?  After reviewing the multitudes of Fluffs I have perpetrated I concede that I have, in fact, not answered this question.  I have answered, Do you think that you’re all that and your probably really not?  And, Do you like yourself?  But not whether or not I am awesome.

I think it is fairly impressive and inspiring of the awe that I continue to assume that y’all will want to tune in to see whether or not I find myself awesome.  And I think I, like anyone else, have my moments.  Few of those truly classified as awesome.

Do you like nachos?

Hell yes, what am I?  A Communist?  I might have mentioned on the odd occasion that I like cheese.  Truthfully, I love all the cheeses.  This excludes the non-cheeses aka American and Velveeta, but includes cheese-like substances such as the orange goop served at the movie theater.  But only Regal theaters, not that ghetto slime they be peddling at the Century 16.

Do you know a person named Ashley?

I sort of know a nine(?) year old girl named Ashley.  Which is not weird at all because she is the half-sister of one of my best friends.  Who is older than nine, y’all.  Pervs.  She’s only like eleven years younger than me.  What?  I am a November baby and my parents kept me from starting school until I was almost six so I wouldn’t have be the youngest.  Which made me the oldest and forever the friend of the young.  Also because I can live forever on an elixir made from their sweet, sweet youngblood.

Do you have blog?

Ok y’all, that right there made me question reality.  I mean, DO I really have a blog?  If I don’t have the time or the motivation or the lack of motherfucking depression to write a blog, do I really have it?

Oh snap, yes.  I do.  Because I am blogging on it right this very moment.

What’s your favorite food?

Right now it’s Cadbury Mini Eggs.  They are my main source of sustenance until Easter comes and ruins everything.  Again.  Damn bunny only selling his eggs one day of the year.  It’s not enough, I tells ya.  My jeans that can no longer enclose all this jelly that I have.  I don’t think they can handle this.

I’m so far gone down this particular rabbit hole that I’m having impossible daydreams of how to exponentially improve the product in question.  How freakballs amazesauce would it be if we could somehow maintain the integrity of the scrumptious vanilla scented candy exterior while heating the chocolate inside to the point of melting?  Therefore creating a gentle sort of cascading volcano of chocolate action when biting tenderly into the shell?  #sendhelp  #thorazine  #72hourhold

Puppies, kittens, or pot-bellied pigs?

This one sounds familiar too.  Which leads me to believe that I, a forty-how-ever-old-I-am woman, am participating in far too many adolescent pastimes.  When I have to be like – hey Lisa, have we already done the one with the talking peas?  How about our feelings on pandas?  - there may be cause for concern.

That being said, I really wanted to weigh all the pros and cons of these animals and what I came after with after my careful consideration and extensive research(several hours of watching pig videos) was ZOMFGHOLYSHITBALLSOFFIERYCUTENESS.


Do you forward those irritating chain e-mails?

No.  And I only have the tiniest residue of concern for my life and the lives of those around me when doing so.  #progress

Do you have any stickers?

I have a veritable slew of stickers.  I have a kid.  Stickers and kids go together like something that goes together, but sure as shit shouldn’t.  Kids love to put stickers any which way they can and that includes where the sun don’t shine.  Thank all the things that the sticker barons finally figured out to make those stickers with little to no sticking power.  Except the cheap ones from Wal-mart or the supermarket that say Priced for Quick Sale or Damaged Goods.  Slap those suckers on say, the bumper of a Honda C-RV and they have some seriously staying power.  So I’ve been told.

Does your mom have the same color hair as you?

She did once upon a time.  We both get our color out of a bottle these days.  Does anyone over the age of fifteen actually have their natural hair color anymore?

How many times a day do you go to facebook?

Once.  Maybe.  I hate FB with the passion of the fairly passionless.  I go there when I’ve exhausted all my other avenues of entertainment.  So not often.

When was the last time you had a staring contest?


When was the last time you fell asleep with the TV on?

Never.  I have passed out with the TV one, but that was a lifetime ago and so no longer eligible.

Has anyone kissed you today?

I got a couple of kisses, a mommy I love you and a declaration that he does not like hugs of any kind – long or short.  I also got a foot rub, which is never long enough but quick possibly better than most kisses.

Do you believe in love at first sight?

Yes.  I believe that an image can strike a chord and release a flood of chemicals that gets us loopy on pheromones.  I believe that that giddy, amped up, hyper-reality feeling is akin to love.  Not actual knowing someone and thinking they are amazeballs even though their farts make your eyes water or they never remember to shut the cabinets all the way.  Not the actual love that withstands the test of time or love that you would walk through fire for.  But the fun, slutty, bastard cousin that sometimes leads to actual love.

Are vampires real?

If they are I am really hoping they’re not some walking in the sunlight, glittery motherfuckers because you don’t see those coming.  I’m hoping they’re the bumpy face, vicious teeth gnashing sort that want nothing more than to drain you and move on.  And I hope there is also a Slayer nearby willing to dust the bastards.  And that one of them is Spike, bad boy vamp with a soul and he wants to find solace from the loss of Buffy in the arms of another.  #iamanother

Stupid question gets a video.  This one is by way of the lovely Chibi Jeebs on the loathed FB.  I am a sucker for singers with a gimmick, Hall and Oates and Canadians.  Also kazoos.  Clearly.