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Category Archives: random

A new year post on the actual day. Go me.

Happy new year, people of the interwebs! OK, so I missed New Year’s day for some of you. I know. I’m the worst at thinking in a timely fashion for other time zones. Please forgive me, other time zones. Here is a photo of Dumbcat looking pensive to make up for my transgression.

Hapey Noo Yere, peeple of bloge. I had a birfday this weeke adn am nowe fifeteene. In humaene yeers that is 76 yeers old. I shoulde reetire.

Hapey Noo Yere, peeple of bloge. I had a birfday this weeke adn am nowe fifeteene. In humaene yeers that is 76 yeers old. I shoulde reetire and get soceel securtee so Momee can stay homee and pet my furrs all the dayys.

A couple weeks ago at work, one of my most favorite coworkers (there are a lot of them…I kind of work with the best people in all the land) and I were talking about blogging. Here, I’ll give you our conversation. If he happens to read this (and I suppose he might, the internet’s a very small place sometimes), apologies in advance for stealing your words and putting them on the internets for all to read, one of my most favorite coworkers whose name I will not put on the blog because I’m about 99% sure it would embarrass the pants right off of you and I enjoy you so much I would never want to do that to you. Plus, also, workplace harassment, yo, I can’t be taking work-people’s pants off. I think there’s a seminar or something about that.

I seriously just snorted orange soda up my nose at this. This was NOT the image I went looking for, but look at the chick's face. It's like she's oblivious to the butt-groping. Or she's looking at a really funny kitten-GIF. Or maybe she just really likes the groping, I don't even know. Either way, it is my best thing of the day.

I seriously just snorted orange soda up my nose at this. This was NOT the image I went looking for, but look at the chick’s face. It’s like she’s oblivious to the butt-groping. Or she’s looking at a really funny kitten-GIF. Or maybe she just really likes the groping, I don’t even know. Either way, it is my best thing of the day.

Impressive Reporter Coworker: So I noticed the other day you’re a tweetaholic. You have over 20,000 tweets!
Me: Oh. Yeah. I used to tweet a lot. I don’t do that anymore.
IRC: Why?
Me: Oh, kind of a long story. I used to blog? And then tweet a lot, kind of in relation to that? I kind of fell out of practice.
IRC: You had a blog?
Me: Yeah. I kind of still do, I guess, but it just sits there.
IRC: What was it about?
Me: Um. Mostly me ranting about some things and making fun of other things? Also I talked about zoos a lot.

By the way, this happened a couple months ago in Syracuse. I like it because it looks like I Munchausen-by-Proxyed my penguin-baby and have gone cheerfully insane.

By the way, this happened a couple months ago in Syracuse. I like it because it looks like I Munchausen-by-proxyed my penguin-baby and have gone cheerfully insane.

IRC: And people would read it?
Me: Heh. Yeah. Lots of people would read it. I won some awards. And I met amazing people. And I went to Finland last year. Got to stay with people I met through blogging, actually. It was fantastic.
IRC: So…what happened?

And I didn’t have an answer for him. Not really.

What happened? Oh, I don’t know. Life, I guess. Andreas and I have spent copious amounts of time discussing that. Priorities change. Things change. People come in and out of your life. Moods rise and fall. Jobs come and go. I can most sincerely say that the person I was three and a half years ago when I started blogging isn’t the person I am now. I think back on that person and she seems like a complete stranger to me. It’s not that I’m embarrassed of her; it’s that I don’t know her at all, and I don’t know how I ever was her. I have a record that I was, I can look back on old posts and I know I wrote them, but as for remembering it, it’s kind of fuzzy. Too much water under the bridge.

So I’ve been doing a lot of thinking…and I realize there’s this itchy little part of me that wants to start writing again, and writing more. Otherwise I’m going to probably self-destruct.

I’m not juvenile enough to think resolutions ever stick. The first day of the year always seems so shiny and new, doesn’t it? Like you can accomplish anything. Like you have 365 days of newness (ooh, 366 this year, yeah?) to tackle and make your own. But I don’t know about you…but every resolution I’ve ever made has fizzled around February once you realize “oh, look, this shiny new year is very much like last year, what are the odds, yo.”

Instead, I’m going to be kind to myself, and promise myself I’ll do things that are good for me – and writing’s good for me. So writing here? Good for me. Writing poetry, essays, maybe even some short fiction? Good for me. And it’s good for my mind, because I need it to stop being so itchy. An itchy mind never did anyone any good.

(Side note: I have an amazing job, and every now and then I get to write. I got to write part of an article – FOR THE ACTUAL PAPER! – a couple months ago, and then got asked to write a LONG article for one of our related publications. A three-page article about traveling to Albany and all the things you can do there. It’s not online yet – will be eventually, and then you can read it, if you’re so inclined – but long story short, I get to write for work. I also get to do our social media, copyedit, proofread, and sometimes there’s totally a STOP THE PRESSES! moment with late-breaking news which makes me jump around in my chair because I feel like I’m in a 40s film with very impressive fedoras. My coworkers are fantastic, because they’ve totally accepted me even though I’m the biggest goofball. And I can say, with 100% certainty, I’ve never had a job where I can be more myself, and where I’ve felt more immediately at home with the people, than this one. Ever. When you can completely dork out about something three days in and no one even bats an eye? You have won employment.)

Sometimes I like to imagine that I'm in "His Girl Friday" only there's a lot less sexism (and also a lot fewer typewriters, ashtrays, and, sadly, fedoras.)

Sometimes I like to imagine that I’m in “His Girl Friday” only there’s a lot less sexism (and also a lot fewer typewriters, ashtrays, and, sadly, fedoras.)

I’m kind of rambling, here.

Anyway: I have a couple of people I’m going to encourage to blog, and they’re going to, in turn, encourage ME to blog, this year, so we’re responsible to one another as well as being cheerleady. And this will, hopefully, stop the brain-itching and get me back writing and being creative.

Happy New Year, internets. I hope your 2014s weren’t as fraught with weirdness as mine was (and most people I know had a TERRIBLE 2014, what’s going on, 2014, why were you so cursed?) and your 2015 looks like 366 (or 365, sorry, people of other time zones, I really meant to do this earlier in the day but I was too busy painting a unicorn head to go over my new fireplace…YES THAT IS REALLY A THING I DID TODAY, WHY ARE YOU ASKING) new and shiny days of awesome that you can tackle and wrestle into submission and make yours, all yours.

This is my unicorn head that is hanging over my fireplace. I don't have a name for him yet, but I'm leaning toward Reginald von Sparklenstein.

This is my new unicorn head that is hanging over my fireplace. I don’t have a name for him yet, but I’m leaning toward Baron Reginald von Sparklenstein.

Much love to your shiny little new-year faces. *smooch*

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I have not been kidnapped by pirates. I promise.

This is a brief check-in so you don’t think I’m dead.

*checks*

Nope, not dead.

Maybe MOSTLY dead. But not all the way!

Maybe MOSTLY dead. But not all the way!

It’s a busy couple of weeks here, which just kicked off on Thursday. I might be running around like a crazyperson until mid-October, so I can’t plan anything (including blogging, sadly.) They’re all good things, and fun things, and things I’m very much looking forward to, but there are a LOT of things.

So, this past week, I reviewed a show (and had a very nice dinner with my friend K., in which we caught up and laughed and ate and solved all the world’s problems. YOU ARE WELCOME, WORLD. Expect my invoice in the mail in the next 2-4 weeks.) The paper I write for is still having technical difficulties, so you can read my review for free. I saw Les Mis. It wasn’t a flawless production (but it wasn’t the worst production I’ve ever seen, either…so not a complete waste of time. I do so enjoy “On My Own.” And hearing “to love another person is to see the face of God” always gives me chills.)

Then Friday, Cousin S. came to visit! We had a weekend of ADVENTURE and TALKING and MORE ADVENTURE. We ate all the food (sushi and popcorn and Cheesecake Factory and waffles!) and toured Albany and saw a movie (Don Jon, which was really very good, if you like naughtiness and Joseph Gordon Levitt, both of which we do) and I introduced her to Veronica Mars (which she loved, yay! Excellent taste, that woman. It must be hereditary.) And we talked and talked and talked. We had many years of talking to catch up with. I think we did that admirably. Then, after she left, I took a three-hour nap. WHO DOES SUCH A THING. It was not planned to be that long. I had a headache and I was like, let’s just curl up for a bit, see if we can get this to back off! and then the next thing I knew, it was dinnertime. What the hell?

I don't like cheesecake. I got this thing called Blackout Cake. One slice was the size of my damn head. I could not even finish it. True story.

I don’t like cheesecake. I got this thing called Blackout Cake. One slice was the size of my damn head. I could not even finish it. True story.

And ALSO, this weekend, I was Freshly Pressed for the second (I KNOW!) time! So the phone went off and off and OFF with comments and likes and reblogs and such and Cousin S. was like YOUR PHONE! IT IS BLOWING UP! and I was like, yes, blogging, it is a strange and demanding mistress. The WordPress people contacted me on Monday to tell me they were Freshly Pressing the blog I wrote last week about meeting up with Josh last weekend, and I could not have been more pleased. What a great post to choose, and what an honor for them to choose me again. So! Some of you are most likely new people. Hello, new people! I am so pleased you are here. Please always feel free to comment, and if you are confused and would like to know what the hell’s going on here (I don’t know what’s going on here a lot of the time, to be honest) you can check out my About page, or the Frequently Asked Questions page. And just a warning, usually I’m goofy. SOMETIMES I’m serious, but seriously, usually I’m very random and goofy. So if you hate such things, no harm, no foul, I suppose.

VERY EXCITING!

VERY EXCITING!

This week is INSANE. I’m seeing three plays (and reviewing two), going to dinner with friends, working 6 days, getting a haircut, bringing the car to the garage because I think it’s about to die, and Mom and Dad are coming to visit because I AM ALMOST A YEAR OLDER. Yes! It is true! With the advent of October, it is almost AMY-MONTH! Shush, I totally get a whole month, don’t you get a whole month when it’s YOUR birthday? Well, if you don’t, you should, sheesh. We are officially 8 days from my birthday. This year I sadly have to work on my birthday, because later in the week I’ll be taking six days off to take a trip to Virginia! IT IS ALMOST VIRGINIA-TIME!!!

BIRTHDAY MONTH!!!

BIRTHDAY MONTH!!!

Now it is bedtime, because I have a Stephen King book that is crying out “Amy! READ ME!” and you know, I kind of want to do that. This is the longest I’ve gone without having my nose stuck in a new Stephen King book in my whole LIFE. If I don’t hurry up, I just know some internet asshat is going to spoil it for me, and then I will have to go POSTAL on them and who wants THAT to happen? No one. I mean, sincerely.

Happy Monday, all. I hope your weekends were full of adventure and mystery and wonder and joy. If they weren’t, there’s always next weekend, right? Right.


This week, I didn’t go to Oz, but I did go bowling, so…win, I guess?

It’s been quite a week, right? I don’t know what’s been going on in your part of the world, but here, it’s UTTER CRAZYTOWN.

So this week kind of kicked my ass six different ways, and then a seventh for good measure. SO MUCH ASS-KICKERY. But now it is the weekend. Well, kind of the weekend. I still have one more day of work and THEN I get my one day off. Watch out, one day off! I’m coming for you!

So here was my week in a nutshell. Ready for the craziness? I know you are. It’s going to be the most exciting.

So at the beginning of the week, I had TWO FULL DAYS OFF! I spent one of those two days cleaning the house. Not JUST cleaning. DEEP-cleaning. SEVEN FULL HOURS of cleaning. I threw away – are you ready for this? – SEVEN BAGS OF GARBAGE. Don’t ask too many questions about how exactly I had seven full bags of garbage in a very small place. NO, I am not a hoarder. I just haven’t done a huge purge in a while. Sometimes you just need to get rid of shit, you know?

Casualities in the great cleaning of 2013 = my lava lamp, which FLEW OFF THE TABLE and COMMITTED SUICIDE ON THE RUG (or maybe I smacked it with my hip, I never said I was graceful) and then all the lava juice started leaking out and I don’t know if that’s poison or not, so I had to throw it away. Sigh. Goodbye, purple lava lamp, you were just too cool for me. Also, I blew up my brand-new vaccuum, but my mom assures me that I didn’t really blow it up, I just probably clogged up the filters and I need to clean them and all will be well. I did find one of my favorite necklaces that I thought was lost to the ages; I didn’t, however, find a missing letter that I’ve been looking for, which was disheartening. Who knows where that ended up. Dumbcat hid for most of the day because there was just too much going on for him and things smelled like citrus. He HATES things that smell like citrus. Citrus makes him make cranky faces. Once I was done and he realized I’d found a lot of his favorite toys under the couch, though, he was VERY pleased. (And randomly, today, he somehow found a way to put one of those toys on the bookcase? I have no idea how he got that there. It was a feat of wonder.)

Then the OTHER day off, I did NOTHING. Well, no. I did lots of things, but they were all very relaxy. I wrote, I read, I watched television, I played on the internet, I ate a lot of popsicles. Oh, and also snowcones. I totally bought a snowcone maker. SUMMER YOU WILL NOT CONQUER ME THIS YEAR! Well, no. It’s not really a snowcone maker. It’s a shaved ice maker. Which is LIKE a snowcone maker only the ice is a lot finer. And I got delicious snowcone juice. But I think snowcone juice makers need to step it up for those of us who want things that are sugar-free because we don’t just want cherry and fruit punch flavors. I randomly found a blue raspberry flavor at Bed Bath and Beyond but SERIOUSLY, people, there are a BILLION flavors that are sugary, GET WITH IT, YO.

Seriously, best purchase ever.

Seriously, best purchase ever.

Anyway, my shaved ice maker is the best thing ever. It makes a gigantic bowl of shaved ice and then you dump all the flavoring over it and it is the MOST DELICIOUS and also the most cooling. It was a very good purchase. I don’t regret it in the least.

(Oh, I was shopping at Bed Bath and Beyond because I had to buy a bridal shower gift. Were you aware that when someone gets married you get them a shower gift AND a wedding gift? This is the best scam ever. I’m going to marry Dumbcat just for the gifts. Can I do that? You guys will give me gifts, right? TWO TIMES THE GIFTS? Anyway, I bought a good shower gift and then also bought myself some things like snowcone juice and a new Pyrex measuring cup since I dropped mine in the sink and glass went EVERYWHERE and I’m still finding it in random places and I go to use it at least once a week and curse the day I was born clumsy.)

Oh, measuring cup, I miss you. Why are you so shattery?

Oh, measuring cup, I miss you. Why are you so shattery?

OK, so anyway, then the week happened. Work was busy, blah blah blah, and there’s this thing happening that I can’t talk about because chicken-counting so I’ll just say it’s a thing that’s equal parts scary and exciting and leave it at that, and if you want to cross your fingers for me, or whatever you do to pass along the good vibes, it’d be appreciated.

THEN, ready for this? I don’t know if you are, because it’s terrible-awesome-scary.

WE HAD TWO TORNADOES!

Real photo of a real tornado here! Whoo!

Real photo of a real tornado here! Whoo!

Is that really how the plural of tornado is spelled? Goodness, that looks terrible. But then again, so does “tornados” and the internet says either are right but both look like I’m illiterate.

On Wednesday, the weathermen started creaming themselves. First they were all “thunderstorms coming, y’all.” Then they were all “SEVERE thunderstorms!” Then they started running around like weirdos. “POSSIBLE FLASH FLOODS!” “ZOMG MAYBE A TORNADO!!!!”

I thought they were full of shit. We never get tornadoes.

We totally got TWO tornadoes.

I went grocery shopping – no rain. No thunder. Nothing. Bleh. Got home. Put away the groceries. Called Mom and Dad. Dad was all, “It’s raining there!” (Dad always believes the weather channel rather than me.) “No, it’s not, Dad,” I said. “IT SAYS IT IS!” said Dad. I assured him I was actually IN the weather and there was NO RAIN. He sounded skeptical.

Then. THEN! Out of NOWHERE! BAM WENT THE THUNDER! WHOOSH WENT THE WIND! My phone made the emergency broadcast noise and told me to STAY IN THE HOUSE FLASH FLOODS ARE A’COMIN’! (Phones do that? Good grief, that scared the bejeebers out of me.)

We had about 45 minutes or so of the craziest storm ever. The windows rattled. I planted some things and put them on the porch this past weekend and one of them just blew RIGHT off the porch and down onto the lawn. It was a casualty of FORCES OF NATURE! No strawberries from THAT pot! I forgot the window was open in the bedroom and when I ran in to close it the curtains were SOAKED! The power went on and off and on and off! Dumbcat freaked out and attached himself to my leg!

Then everything settled down and I ventured out onto the porch and everything was weirdly golden outside and some aluminum came off one of my neighbors’ buildings and hit their car but other than the flying pot of strawberries, all was well here.

However, we actually had two tornadoes in the area (one picked up a man and THREW HIM THREW THE WALL OF A BUILDING!) and so many trees were down and someone on Facebook reported (so take it with a grain of salt) 25,000 people were without power when it was done. On my drives to and from work the past couple of days, I’ve seen lines down, a ton of National Grid trucks, and, in one case, a tree in the middle of someone’s roof.

Look at this! Seriously, that was one whopper of a storm, you guys.

Look at this! Seriously, that was one whopper of a storm, you guys.

As long as I’m safe, I’m totally invigorated by crazy weather. And other than being afraid I was going to lose ALL my plants I’d just planted from my porch, I was safe. Dumbcat didn’t think he was, but he was. Silly boy. I will not let the twister take you to Oz.

Then, FINALLY, on Thursday night, the whole office (give or take half of the office) went bowling. I like bowling, but I’m not very good at it. Dad tried to teach me how to bowl when I was younger and he yelled “FOLLOW THROUGH!” so loud I got upset and left the bowling  alley and sat in the car until they were done. (Dad says, “You always say I was yelling at you. You just weren’t listening, so I had to talk LOUDLY.”)

FOLLOW THROUGH!!!

FOLLOW THROUGH!!!

I was, as expected, not very good. We bowled two…what are they called, sets? Frames? I don’t even know. There were four of us on the team and we got to bowl two complete times twice. Sets, I think, but I could be wrong. The first time I didn’t do terribly and got two strikes and two spares and then totally got to bowl in the special bonus round at the end. (“That’s just the tenth frame,” Dad said. “No, the special bonus round! No one else got to! Because I got a strike, I got to go again!” “Yes. That’s the TENTH FRAME, that’s how that WORKS,” said Dad. “Well, no one else got to do it. It was therefore a bonus, and SPECIAL,” I said. This made Dad laugh until he choked a little. Dad used to be in a league. He has awards and everything.) I ended up in second place with a 113 which I think is very respectable since I don’t know that I’ve ever broken 100 before. I tried to take a photo but the screen was too bright so it didn’t work. The SECOND time I apparently broke my arm and every time I bowled it went to the left and I got a 76 which I think is what kids get who need those bumpers in the gutters. I told Dad I lost that round to make everyone else feel better. He agreed that was very nice of me.

I was telling Dad about bowling and he got VERY upset. Why? Because of this.

Me: So the lanes tell you how fast you’re bowling.
Dad: What? No they don’t.
Me: Yes they do. The screen says how many miles per hour you’re throwing the ball. A. was the winner of that. He threw it 20 miles per hour.
Dad: Is that all? I think I could throw it MORE than that.
Me: OK. Anyway, he was all, “I want to beat my record!” so he had one pin standing, and he just PITCHED that ball, because he didn’t think he had any chance of knocking down that one pin anyway. And guess what happened?
Dad: I can’t even guess. He killed someone.
Me: That’s a very terrible guess.
Dad: I told you I couldn’t even guess.
Me: His ball went in the gutter at the very end, and then POPPED OUT and knocked down the pin. SPARE!
Dad: No, that doesn’t count. That’s not a spare. Once the ball goes in the gutter, you’re done. He cheated.
Me: No, it is. The computer said it was.
Dad: What computer? You brought a computer?
Me: NO, Dad. The computer over the LANE. That keeps SCORE for you.


Dad: Wait. Wait a minute. What? Something that keeps SCORE for you? No. YOU keep score. With a pencil and paper.
Me: Where would you even GET a pencil and paper?
Dad: They give it to you with the shoes.
Me: No, they just give you the shoes. This isn’t 1977. A computer keeps score for you now. You put your name in it and it tracks your score. No one even KNOWS how to keep score anymore.
Dad: I can’t believe this. I. CAN. NOT. BELIEVE. THIS. I am never bowling again. I would bring my own pencil and paper and keep score. This is RIDICULOUS.
Me: Dad, I don’t think anyone’s kept score for themselves since…well, the last time I kept score for myself was probably the early 90s. That’s like 20 years ago.
Dad: I can’t believe this. WHAT HAS THE WORLD COME TO?
Me: It’s the relentless march of progress. You can’t stop it. It even comes to bowling alleys. There are also strobe lights and they play Katy Perry songs while you bowl.
Dad: I AM SO MAD RIGHT NOW. Who the hell is Katy Perry.

Now I am going to bed so I can deal with the billions of “MY AIR CONDITIONER IS BROKEN” and “WE HAVE NO POWER” calls I’m bound to get at work tomorrow. Happy Saturday, people of the bloggiverse. Hopefully you are somewhere a little cooler than here, where it is in the nineties. THE NINETIES. In MAY. Well, it’s June now, but it was in the nineties this week, and this week was May. I find this as upsetting as Dad finds computerized bowling.


Random things that made me laugh recently. And also a little queasy.

This weekend at work I laughed at a lot of things. Laughing still makes me cough a lot, so also I coughed a lot. It’s not really the best thing combination.

So on Saturdays, I work at the answering service. The job is not the most fun, but my coworkers mostly are the best. We get giggly over stupid shit. I think this is because we’re getting yelled at by the callers so much that we need to laugh where we can.

Today’s best typos:

Someone meant to say that the caller wanted a black plaque on the coffin they were ordering. However, some of my coworkers aren’t the best at spelling. So, instead of “include the black plaque” we got “include the black plague.”

OMG THE BLACK PLAGUE YOU GUYS.

Bring our your dead!

Bring our your dead!

And the worst part was it was on this place we answer for where you can order coffins and grave liners and things, so we totally got giggling because we were all “the black plague! Man, if the black plague was included, what a great day that would be for all the funeral directors! BUSINESS WOULD BE BOOMING!”

Then, someone meant to write “the individuals” but didn’t double-check her message so when I got it, it said “teh individualos.”

Say that out loud. Doesn’t it sound so Spanish and debonair? TEH INDIVIDUALOS!

So we kept saying things like “teh individualos, Señor! Beware teh individualos!” in a thick faux-Spanish accent.

THEN, someone spelled Albuquerque as Albuquercue like it was barbecue, so we were saying that in all the different ways. Mine was Al-be-ker-koo. With a very long oooooo sound at the end. We were all going to take a road trip to Albuquercue to avoid the black plague and also to avoid teh individualos. Those nefarious individualos.

Albuquercue is FILLED with all teh nefarious individualos.

Albuquercue is FILLED with all teh nefarious individualos.

And THEN, right before I left, a caller called in and started complaining that his air conditioner didn’t work, and he was looking for a part. What part? His “compacitor.” Listen, he was REALLY serious about this. No, not his capacitor. No, not his compressor. His compacitor. Which I just Googled and it does not exist. DOES. NOT. EXIST. But a lot of people on the Googles THINK it exists, because they cannot spell. ANYWAY, so after the compacitor guy called, we were all “the FLUX COMPACITOR!” and “1.21 gigawatts!” and “we’re going BACK…to the FUTURE!” and if you think we’re not a., having a good time at the answering service, and b., laughing at the douchebag callers who think compacitors are a thing, you are doubly wrong, my little lemon tarts.

This is CLEARLY spelled wrong. It's COMpacitor, bub.

This is CLEARLY spelled wrong. It’s COMpacitor, bub.

Then I went to the theater and was a very good house manager and made people laugh and tore their tickets with FLAIR. It’s like a little added show, only you don’t even have to pay for that part. Nice, right? Seriously, I was on fire, yo. Actually, no. I was on the OPPOSITE of fire, because my fever is totally gone and all I have is a cough now and sometimes my nose runs randomly the most and I have to run and find a Kleenex and not all Kleenex are the best and some are scratchy and my nose is all sore right now, you know. STUPID COLD.

Then I was watching television and a commercial for this product came on:

This is a beer product that is also a malt beverage like a wine cooler and tastes like a margarita. I can’t…is there anything in the whole entire world, including organ meat, that sounds less appealing than this? Are people buying this? Like, to actually drink it and not use it to mock, or strip paint?

According to this review, they don’t taste like beer (which is what was the most confusing to me, because the commercial kept saying they had beer in them WHY WOULD I WANT BEER IN MY MARGARITA) but they DO taste REPULSIVE which is not at all surprising to me. They are malt beverages. I have not yet met a malt beverage that doesn’t give me a headache with the scent alone.

Listen, back when I did such things, my steady boyfriend was José Cuervo. I pretty much lived on tequila and tequila-based beverages. It got to the point where all I’d do was splash the tiniest amount of margarita mix in the big old glass of tequila, but still. It was KIND of a margarita. In spirit, anyway. Ha! Spirit. Get it?

José and I had a breakup many years ago, and we only have flirtations every now and then, which leave me feeling guilty and kind of disgusting. Damn you, José. You and your seductive bedroom eyes.

But even though I’m no longer a margarita connoisseur, I am fairly sure these fake margaritas in a can that seem to have beer in them would not be good. Not at all good. Terrible. Vomitorious. There were totally a zillion commercials on for them the other night, though. That’s why I don’t watch a lot of live TV. You can’t avoid the commercials.

My verdict: don’t drink these things. And if you do, don’t you even come crying to me, because I totally told you so.

This is kind of short but I’m sleepy. Listen, I had a FOUR HOUR TRAINING SEMINAR today. Four hours. And it was one of those seminars where they MAKE YOU PARTICIPATE. Here’s my take on forced participation: I’ll participate if I want to, but the minute you tell me I HAVE to, I clam right up. It makes me nervous when it’s not on my own terms. There was a lot of shit in that four hours that wasn’t on my terms, yo. But I did get to make a poster. I do so like making posters. That’s my jam.

Here’s to things randomly cracking you up today. But not things making you THROW up, and I’m fairly sure that malt beverage thingy would do just that. Blergh.


Interspecies friends in shark costumes. And also there’s a Roomba.

You know how sometimes I say, “this is going to be a very short post?” And really it ends up being crazy long?

Well, it is. Really, this time. Short, I mean. For real.

Sorry.

I have posts planned – at least one for Saturday, and one for Monday, as long as I have time to write them. Things are getting a little crazy and busy here in Amyland. Which is good, because when I get back? SO MANY THINGS TO TALK ABOUT! But right now? NO TIME TO WRITE, JELLYBEANS!

(What’s ironic is, I have SO MANY BLOG POSTS PLANNED, too. And no time to write them. Annoying.)

Tonight I have to get to bed. Just utterly have to. No choice. I haven’t been sleeping lately. Lots on my mind, and staying up much too late. Need to recharge tonight. And maybe try to do a little reading. I’m trying to get a book read by the time I leave town on Saturday.

Anyway, I will leave you with some fun things.

Remember I sent Andreas a present? It arrived! Over a week before the post office told me it would! And I made a pretty Storify of his wonderful photos he took of what I sent, so you could see!

Here, because stupid WordPress won’t let me embed Storify stories, here’s a preview:

Also, here is a video that’s been making us all giggle and giggle for the past couple days. CAT ON A ROOMBA!

There are all kinds of interspecies friends happening all up in here. Also, animals in costumes, and animals who are not at all distressed by bashing into cabinets while riding around on a Roomba.

Also, I think you will all appreciate this: when I was coming back from the wake this week (at which I did not embarrass myself or my parents, so that was nice) and drove past a sign for a business. That business was called:

INTERWEB

You GUYS! There is an INTERWEB out in the world! I was talking to Susie about it and I researched it and apparently they sell paper-making machines or something? It’s all very confusing and I’m not sure what’s happening there. But you can be assured that when I drove past INTERWEB I shouted “INTERWEB!” as loud as I could and laughed and laughed and possibly internally debated whether or not to turn around, take a photo for all of you, and then get back on the road. (Common sense won out. And also, it was 7pm and I hadn’t had anything to eat since 1. I was STARVING.)

Also, I had my first official post on Snobbery this week; if you’d like to read about some booky goodness, please click on over!

Alright. Time to break up the cat-fighting going on right now and get to bed. With a book. And comfy pajamas. Because it might snow tonight. At the end of April.

UPDATE! Not only did it not snow, it’s not even that cold out this morning. Silly weatherman.

One more thing. This came on the radio today?

“Grab your things, I’ve come to take you home” might be one of the most perfect lines ever written in music, ever.

Happy Friday, all. I’ll be back tomorrow. Probably. I would assume. Barring the apocalypse, I guess.


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