Blah,Blah,Blahg

HEDGEHOGS GONE WILD...

{Baby Hedgehog photo lifted from here}

I rarely remember my dreams, just clips here and there, (mostly there than here). I do know that my dreams could go head-to-head with a Fellini film and hold their own.

Last night I conjured up a world of wild hedgehogs that had taken over an Elk Lodge meeting (where I happened to be using the loo, #1 for the curious).  I popped my head out to see what the commotion was.  There were seriously p'o'd (or in a rush?) hedgehogs scurrying along the walls. The strangest thing about these hedgehogs (besides their opossum like fangs) was that some were dressed in party attire, like taffeta dresses and ripped 3-piece suits. In my dream world I was not afraid of these hybrid-hogs but really, really, achingly curious where these Hedgehogs got their clothes.  I tried to stop several screaming Elk lodge visitors and ask them, "Where do you think they got their clothes?' but everyone was more concerned with getting out.  I on the other hand decided to go in the main hall where there was obviously a grand party getting started.  I was quickly joined by a beauty queen cow.  I knew she was a beauty queen because she was wearing the requisite beauty queen sash (of course). We danced to a live band, drank drinks with bubbles and ended up having a great time.  The End.

Supposedly everyone in your dream is a representation of yourself...

Why do I share this with you?  Because if I were to analyze this, it's quite obvious to moi and I thought (am hoping) it might be helpful for a select few as well.  Here's my analaysis:

While the rest of the world is flippin' out-don't join them in the hysteria. Maintain your sense of wonder and delight with the world and instead of fearing the unknown walk through the chaos and you may be rewarded with the happily unexpected (and become friends with a beauty queen cow..or not..)

IT'S NOT YOU, IT'S ME...

{The Fancy at the pier Saturday, perhaps contemplating jumping off?}

If today is Hump day than yesterday was the ever fun (& popular) couples counseling for the Fancy & moi. We both got a sense that our therapist was about to rip her hair out frustrated which made my ever nebbish Fancy comment at the end of the session, "You know she gypped us by five minutes?'. Now, in typical Miss B. fashion I am obsessed with saving our relationship (the therapist and us).  I couldn't handle the thought of our therapist breaking up with us (so soon). I mean tell us how you feel, let us know we drive you insane but don't just clam up and rock back and forth in the corner, it's so off-putting.

I was trying to hold it together during our session, trying to make her happy and like us again but she had put up a wall that was not coming down anytime soon. Just what I don't need--to add to my laundry list of neurosis and downers:

• my job sucks
• my apartment is too expensive
  
• my Fancy is my Fancy (it's hard to articulate, he's the greatest and the worse)
  
• my dog is bleeding me dry
• I am about to turn 70, okay 40, but I am living in dog years...and now this?
• I think I am developing cellulite on my arms. Legs and butt I can handle but my arms for goodness sake?  Does Father Time or Mother Nature or whomever is responsible for this travesty have have any idea how this is going to effect me both mentally and physically?

Needless to say this didn't bode well for my ultra-sensitive Fancy."I think she wants you to leave me," he sulked. "Well, I would, but do you know how hard it will be to find a new boyfriend at my age?  Let alone a new boyfriend that I could potentially procreate with before my eggs shrivel and I go through menopause?  Near impossible."  He looked thoughtful and shrugged, "Yeah, you're probably right." Being the wise and sage individual that I am I told him a secret that I have garnered from all my years on this earth and my many, many years of having boyfriends, "Everyone's got their somethin'.  Even if I moved on to the next person there would be something that would drive me to want to stab them in their sleep or at the very least bother me. No one is perfect,besides present company,you just need to find someone that has the majority of what you want in a person and has no underlying sociopathic tendencies and you are good to go." The Fancy seemed to take it all in "I'm glad we're not fighting." Ditto.

EVER (GREEN) HIGH...

In the interest of making this day light and airy and smiley and sweet I am going to share with you a little place on the internet that makes me guffaw like a middle school student (the level of my humor).  It's a group on Flickr that is called 'Altered Sign's' and as the name so aptly implies it is filled with (fun-filled) signs that have been altered, most likely by middle school students or the like. This is one of my faves, even though I do not condone drugs, one can always be 'high' on life (such as moi)....

{Totally Rad photo by the Hannah E. Westberg| Time Machine by Brandeaux & Co.}

HAVE A DREAM...

{HAVE A DREAM}

When I was in the 4th grade our school librarian Mrs. Keyes did a presentation on Martin Luther King and civil rights .  Mind you when I was in the 4th grade not a lot of technology existed.  We did have paved streets and Starsky + Hutch, but no internet, no video, no tivo, no push button phones, not a heck of a lot. So when Mrs. Keyes brought out a reel-to-reel it was the height of technology.  She had a tape she had recorded during Martin Luther King's 'I have a dream' speech. For me it was on par with being there as I had never met anyone prior (that I knew of personally) that had been a part of history and then was able to share it with someone else, it was magic.

I was in what one would consider a very ethnically rich school.  My brother and I were perhaps the only 'white' children in the entire school, which isn't saying much since we were Latin, just a different version of Latin than the kids were used to (read--pasty white and hair the color of dishwater). This is perhaps why the presentation touched me so deeply and profoundly, I was for all intents and purposes a 'minority'. What the kids didn't know was my Mom spoke broken English and looked like Pochahontas and my father was Black. My mom re-married when I was a toddler to a Black man (yes, I said Black, read here to know what my father thinks about the pc versions).  When I would come home in tears and tell my 'Mama' (my step grandmother) that the kids teased me and were mean, she would say this, and I hope y'all take this bit of wisdom to heart.  She would scold, "Girl, now don't go and pay them no never mind." Exactly what I believe MLK did, he didn't give a flying donkey about what others thought or said and went on to have his own flippin' National holiday.  So take that mean kids, betcha you don't have your own holiday.

Today really feels like a holiday since tomorrow I will be able to record and perhaps share with some random nine year old that I too was part of history...

NOTE:: I posted a link to the image above for you all to download and share to your hearts desire.  You can't re-sell it because the folks at 'Life' say no way Jose, but you can put it up on your bulletin board or something.  Oh, and what the heck does this have to do with the price of tea in China or blogging like a rockstar?  Well, if you post often Google likes you more and if you post something relevant to a current affair there's more of a chance that someone will find you and love you and you will win the lottery. So there.
 

BLOG SUCCESS AT YOUR FINGERTIPS...

This is by far one of the best, most honest excerpts from an email that I have received via the Blahg in like, forever...

Can you give me some insights into your blahg?  What am I likely to see there when there is no "contest" running?

I include the above not to embarrass the sender (nor myself) but I thought it would be perf to continue my series of 'Blogging like a rockstar'.  For the record this Blahg is about nothing and everything. I highly recommend focus on a subject if you want a successful blog (ie. decor, being a mommy, cooking,etc.), but in my case I am a rebel without a cause. As I have made quite clear, I am a HUGE blogging success. Of course success can be measured in many different ways, one of my barometers is that someone actually came by and read the thing (I check the stats like a maniac) and then took the time to comment.  Blows. My. Mind. Every time, really.

So, it brings me to my topic of commenting.  When I first started this blog, the first time I received a comment I nearly fell over. I thought it was a mistake and was confused how the person had figured out how to do it and why?  Why would anyone want to? Why would they bother?  I didn't understand all this excitement that blogs allow you to be interactive with your readership, demographic, etc. I had just started to read blogs and it took me nearly a year before I actually left a comment on one, it wasn't even one I read on a regular basis, the post moved me to write something (for the curious, it was on Christian Bale, if you want to know the extent of what moves Miss B.)  I still didn't understand. I mean a lot of the blogs I read had many, many comments, why would they need my 2 cents (even if I think it's important, why should others?)

And...One day day like a big 'ol slap to the side of my head I 'got' it. I had been (finally) blogging on a regular basis and I realized the same stalkers readers were coming by and I felt elated. I had for all intents and purposes some new 'friends' some like minds, people that enjoyed making things, people that had crappy jobs too, people that liked to see animals do cutesy things, I had found my people, the best part?  Some were wittier than myself, which made me want to stalk them check them out as well.  I find so many new blogs and ways to waste my precious time amuse myself by the comments on this Blahg and the comments on other blogs.  I find that sometimes I am more enthralled by the comments than the actual post. If you want to have a successful blog I think the key is to leave a comment, not just to get people to look at your blog but to give the writer of the blog some lovin'. I think it's some sort of Karmic retribution-- you are nice and kind (in my case exceedingly witty) and in turn the blog Gods smile favorably upon you and guide some hapless fool, lovely doyenne of style to your blog and viola you may have gotten yourself another victim reader.

Or...You can go nuts with the 'keywords' this is how Google helps people find you(or whatever search engine you are using).  My latest and greatest keyword searches that have brought the dregs of the earth enlightened readers are as follows:

#1-'My kind of porn'-I love the idea of someone putting this in their Google search box and hoping that their magic computer can tell them what 'their' kind of porn is, even better when my Blahg post shows up and it involves a baby primate canoodling a dove...

 

{#2 in the Google search engine yo...}

#2-'Dogs that smoke'-My stats have been threw the roof since I wrote about my smoking canine. Btw, since I got her the patch this weekend her bronc has been much better.

 

{Atleast Bella doesn't drink...}

#3-'My Beard'-Again, how is the computer supposed to know 'bout your beard? 

#4-'Monkeys that kill'-That pic of the baby monkey on the 'my kind of porn' post would constitute a pre-mediatated murder, maybe manslaughter because that monkey is killing me with it's cuteness..

Now go on and take this all in and go on and get.  Oh and this is just a lil' side note, not that I really know anything bout 'netiquette' or nothin' but try not to add all 21 of your urls (www.IamLame.come) in your comments, it's so tacky and annoying and if you don't think we know that you are trying to hock your wares, well, we are just a tiny bit smarter than that.  Most comments allow you to link back to your blog/site which if you are a hockstar than I am sure you have links to your wares on your blog/site, so refrain, it's lame.

LOVE....

I'VE GOT 99 PROBLEMS AND A BITCH IS ONE...

Thanks Jay-Z, I couldn't have said it more eloquently...So much for angels singing.  Bella my very bad dog has bronchitis.  I didn't even know dogs could get bronchitis.  I warned her about smoking, but she insisted that it made her look cool, what would I know? I'm just her mom, duh. I have been up for the last week with her coughing, wheezing and most attractive of all-snotting.  I don't know if that is the correct medical term for what she is doing, but she doesn't even use a tissue nor does she wipe it off on her coat like a real lady, nope she just leaves it there.

"Yes Bella, I know you are sick, you don't have to remind me. I just sold your sister so I could get you antibiotics that cost as much as my next two car payments, so can you at least try to make an effort to rub that stuff into your dads sweats or something?"

This illicits more Jedi level guilt skills from the damn dog, she must be taking lessons from her Grandma Marie (a guilt wielding black belt).

I am impervious. I buckle, fold, melt and wipe that stuff off her nose, something I wouldn't even be inclined to do for my future children, heck they'll have opposable thumbs and if they don't than their dad has a couple he can spare.

I wonder why you never hear about dogs in the wild having bronchitis?  Homeless dogs don't seem to get the ol' bronc either, just my haute dog. I consider opening the front door and letting her run free to live a bronc-less existence because when she starts coughing and hacking and looks at me with this face, I about drop dead:

It's the facial equivalent of saying, "Sorry Mommy that I am so bad and snot and vomit and fart audibly and try to kill all the other dogs in the neighborhood and that you and daddy can't afford a down payment on a house because I am sick all the time and am very bad.  I can't help myself."

This is when I scream at the Fancy, "Honey!  The damn dog is trying to kill me again with her cuteness..." He runs over to save his damsel in distress, only to find that Bella has shifted gears.  Body language experts have analyzed the below photo. Conclusion?  She's 'saying'  "What the heck is she talking about? I'm just sitting her minding my own bid'ness.  Now where'd you hide my cigarettes?..."

 

YOU ARE INVITED...

{Like taking candy from a baby}

I woke up this morning believing today was Friday. I was sorely disappointed when I found out it wasn't, as my heart was set on it being Friday and not having to go into hell work tomorrow.  As soon as I get over my pity party I will write a post that will make the angels sing. 

STAN I AM...

The Fancy and I had our couple's counseling last night.  The only thing thus far that has come out of this foray with my former therapy virgin of a Fancy is his new speak.  I start a conversation only to have him nod his head and with pursed lips murmur, "Ah hah, ah hah,' all the while scribbling notes on an imaginary notepad.  When he can see my blood start to boil he says something along the lines of, "Do you think this could have anything to do with your mother?"  When the top of my head pops off from rage, he will probe, "Tell me how this makes you feel, really feel."  I am seriously wondering if the therapy wasn't such a grand plan.  I am learning new things about my Fancy that I didn't know prior, like his kleptomania.  This I am not having a problem with because it seems that it only extends to the gossip mags in the therapist waiting room and I like a little intellectual stimulation before I nod off at night.

Last night I learned that Rebecca Romjiin(sp?) and Jerry O'Connell had twin girls. They have dubbed them 'Dolly' and 'Charlie'.  Dolly because the mother likes Dolly Parton. Call me crazy, but I like Dolly Parton as much as the next person but...I was thinking maybe she could of named her 'Parton', it sounds so rich and they could have called her 'Party' for short. I am all for boy nicknames for girls names, or to choose a name that is unisex, like say, 'Tristan', which can be a girls name without much rigamorale, but it's just not fair to name your girl kid say, 'Sam', and then go on and have her sibling and name her the femme 'Lola' ala the Sheen's. Dolly is sticky sweet, 'Charlie' is cute but I think she should have options, like name her Charlotte and call her 'Charlie' for short. Okay can we form a moratorium here?  Enough with the wacky names folks, it's hard enough being a kid and then a teenager without having to deal with your parents perverse piccadillo's (sorry I have been wanting to use piccadillo in a post for many moons).

Here is my list of names for girls that don't suck (that much) and that you can make as manly as your heart desires:

• Tristan-'Stan'
• Olivia-'Ollie'
• Franchesca-'Frankie'
  
• Rebekkah-'Beck'
• Josephina-'Joe', yes spell it as masculine as you can folks..
• Theodora-'Teddy' 'Ted' (Okay that first name may suck a little, but the nickname is all good)
  
• Willa-'Will'
• Melania-'Mel'
  
• Albertine-'Al', 'Bert'
• Ophelia-'Phil' (personal favorite as far as boy nicknames go)
• Martine-'Marty'
• Maurine-'Mo'
• Nicoletta-'Nic','Nicky', 'Santa'
• Cristalle-'Chris'
  
• Georgina/Georgette-'George', 'Georgie'
• Kensington-'Ken','Kenny' btw this is one of the best girl names EVER.
  
• Lucette-'Luc' or if you prefer 'Luke' or you can just call her 'Lucy'and be done with it.
  

Now no excuses people, if I see another f'd up name I am going to have to contact child protective services...Oh, and in case you are wondering I don't think 'Apple' is that bad, I love 'Plum', but yeah I do agree both those names could just have easily been nicknames to their more formal names of oh, I dunno? Something rich like Blythe, Sloane or Tristan (sorry, I just would like more people to name their unborn child after me instead of Brad Pitt).

I WOULD LIKE TO THANK...

It seems that Miss Blogging Matilda either loves me or hates me (it really depends how you view these things).  I have won an award of sorts, something about lemons and lemonade, gratitude & attitude and sharing the award with ten bloggers that have an 'attitude of gratitude' but I truly prefer bloggers right now with just an attitude, it makes me feel better about myself.  So, in typical 'does not play well with others' fashion (I SWEAR that's written in ink on one of my elementary school report cards), I am commandeering this award and breaking the rules, because it's Tuesday gosh darn it.  So here's my top ten blogs that have me running for the adult diapers, oh and that reminds me, am I the ONLY person that thinks 'Depends' is an unfortunate moniker for them? Why not just call them Depends(?):  ie. Depends?  Depends on whether I have the energy to get off the sofa to go to the loo, depends on how much liquid I have consumed, depends how funny you are, it just depends...

With that thought in mind 10 bloggers that float my proverbial boat. BTW, I am going to try to veer away from the obvious (the blog roll) because that would be too lazy even for me and although prone to sloth like behavior I am going to get all over-achiever on you and all...

BLOGS THAT I LIKE SIMPLY BECAUSE THE TITLES MAKE ME SNORT (in no particular order, they are are all worthy of monopolizing your precious time):

#1    BAKING WITH PLATH

Now if you don't think that is one of the most hilarious, most cynical, sarcastic names ever, who are you?  What? You don't think suicide is a laughing matter?  Okay, but what about a former stripper turned office employee? Under occupation she has: 'Wino'- that is genius.

#2   THE BLOGESS

Tagline:  Like Mother Theresa only better.  Need I delve deeper?

#3    THE TYPING MAKES ME SOUND BUSY

And you thought your job search was rough....

#4    THE WIND IN MY VAGINA

This sounds much worse than it is, it's actually a daddy blog and after you read why it's named that, you will believe in the good in the world (if only you were still four).

#5 SHE'S LUMP

Okay this is on my blog roll (you try linking to ten blogs in one sitting without TOTALLY getting side tracked and accidentally spending your next car payment on something like 'Shamwow'...) but the particular post I linked to is so knee slappin', giggle fit producing, eye wateringly funny that it needs its own award and if not its own award it should at the very least be able to share the lemonade with Miss B...

Okay, I will come back some time in the near future to finish what I started, until then click on those links and get this party started. 

P.S. For those that are afraid I have veered too far from my Craftista beginnings I promise you I am going to be getting all 21 kinds of crafty again soon. It's just with the Blahg move and all, I need to keep all my creative innards in place.  I need all that energy to be able to put together our new virtual clubhouse.  I did nearly drive my tutor into oncoming traffic this weekend (metaphorically), I could hear it in her weary voice and see it in her blank stare that she thought that I was a little more Sling Blade than she anticipated so bear with the short bus kid, I am trying and I am only doing this for you because I am selfless like that.