I love this Twitter account: Faces in Things. I always stop here if I want to smile.
This one made me spew coffee all over my keyboard.
I want one!
Off topic, but I reached 200 posts, and this is my 201st. 🙂
I love this Twitter account: Faces in Things. I always stop here if I want to smile.
This one made me spew coffee all over my keyboard.
I want one!
Off topic, but I reached 200 posts, and this is my 201st. 🙂

W-T-F: They’re really all the same anyway.
The blogger Idiot Writing (whose idiotic, WTF posts I’m in love with) just wrote a post informing everyone that today was Friday just in case anyone thought it was Thursday.
Well, how ironic is that, because yesterday (Thursday) I thought it was Friday. I actually asked my boss why my direct deposit didn’t go in, and she looked at me like I had 3 heads and a pine tree growing out of my forehead.
I skulked out of her office liked a whipped rabbit and just wanted to somehow weave myself into the beige carpet.
Last Christmas, I sent my son, who loves otters, one of these little critters I found online.
I thought he was so cute I ordered another one for myself. Â Â My son named his “Alfonso” and he has actually dressed him in little clothes and then tweets the photos from different locations. Â Yeah, he’s a total dork. Â Here’s “Alfonso” protecting a smartphone.

Touch this phone and I’ll rip your face off.
Yeah, I know.  It  sort of reminds me of the guy who kidnapped someone’s garden gnomes, took them on a trip around the world, and sent the owners photos of the stolen gnomes in exotic settings such as the Eiffel Tower, the Louvre, London’s Big Ben, The Great Wall of China, and under the arches at the Mickey D’s in Podunk, Iowa.

Don’t step any closer. It might be possessed.
So anyway. Â I couldn’t think of a name for my guy, but there’s a restaurant in town named “Lucky Otter.” Otters are not on the menu, but Cali-style burritos are. Â The logo, inexplicably, is two conjoined dachsunds that look vaguely reminiscent of “CatDog,” of the ’90s era Nickelodeon cartoon.
The important thing is, my fuzzy little guy is otterly delighted not only with his name, but to have an entire blog named after him.
I’m having one of those days again.  You know, those days where you feel like all your nerves are beeping and buzzing  and flashing the red DANGER sign.   I deliberately stayed home from work today because I felt like sleeping in (and honestly, I wasn’t feeling well–I think I’m coming down with a cold, the flu, or maybe Ebola).  But once I got over the anxiety-inducing hurdle of actually calling work,  I curled back into my nice warm bed, expecting to drift into pleasant dreams, but instead  I couldn’t go back to sleep!  This happens A LOT when I try to relax:  my mind starts racing and my heart begins to palpitate, while all my morbid, negative thoughts of unnamed disaster start to overtake my brain.  This always happens, especially  when I’m trying to relax.
When I was young I never had this problem. Â The 20-something version of myself could languish in bed until 2 PM or even later, with nary a sense of guilt or anxiety. Â I would drift into the most incredible, lucid-like dreams like someone on a mushroom high. Â I woke up ready to take on the world. Â But things have changed. Â As I’ve grown older, my attempts to sleep in just make me feel like I deserve to be punished and my body responds in kind. Â What’s up with that?
So I finally gave up trying to get back to sleep. Â I untangled my legs from under the covers, stood on the cold floor and walked to the kitchen where I made a strong pot of my favorite hazelnut coffee (I’m weird–coffee sometimes makes me sleepy) with cream and no sugar, put on some socks and opened my laptop. Â I read some blogs and blogged a little myself, but the nervousness was still there.
Around 11:30, I could no longer stand laying around in the clothes I sleep in (last night it was a tee shirt with threadbare drawstring pajama pants with Lucky Charms logos and leprechauns all over them) and got dressed in real clothes. Â Â But I still feel that unnamed sense of dread. Â Â My palms feel sweaty and my heart is in my throat. Â Â Should I go for a drive? Â Mow the grass (which is still overgrown and weedy looking even though it’s been cold)? Â Read a good novel? Â Cook something scrumptious that involves plenty of chocolate and butter? Â Arrange all my books in order by color to make my bookshelves look like a rainbow? Â I just don’t know. Â Â Now I wish I went to work today. Â I don’t know why I take these “mental health days” when I always wind up feeling guilty for doing so and crazier than if I’d just gone to my crummy job.

The crazy outfit I slept in last night. Â Maybe going to dreamland with kittens and leprechauns is the stuff of nightmares.Â
Am I the only one? Â Do any of you suffer anxiety and guilt when you take a day off from work when you’re not really sick? Â What do you do to combat your nerves?
…and I just found this website that lets you create your own. Here’s one I just finished that fits with my latest concerns.
Click to enlarge.
I can’t believe I forgot to put this on my pet peeve list: Morning radio shows suck. I can only say 4 things about them.
1. They are not funny. It seems everyone wants to be Howard Stern these days, and guess what–he was never that funny either.
2. They ALWAYS have a really irritating, maddeningly perky, female sidekick with the IQ of a sloth and a voice to make even Kim Kardashian cringe in embarrassment. They never have anything original to add, and just seem to exist to laugh idiotically at the Stern-wannabe’s lame jokes.
3. Speaking of the Kardashians, does anyone really give a shit?
4. And finally, the worst thing of all: What the heck is wrong with ACTUAL MUSIC?
“Sooooo….I hear it’s gonna be a rough winter this year.”
ARGGGHHHH!
I hear this every single year, starting in about August. It drives me insane. First of all, how does anyone know how rough the winter’s gonna be? Weather forecasters can’t even predict the weather right most of the time DAYS ahead, never mind for the long term. Flipping a coin would probably do just as good a job predicting the weather. Whenever people use this phrase, I want to slam my head through a brick wall. Why? Because it almost seems like a taunt to me, as if they WANT it it snow all winter. It’s also usually said by someone who has four wheel drive and fancy snow tires. They’re prepared.
Well guess what? I’m not.
Sure, snow is pretty and all, and it’s nice on CHRISTMAS because it suits the season and on Christmas, most of us can lounge around at home in fuzzy slippers and pajamas all day if we choose. Unless we’re visiting relatives, we don’t have to DRIVE IN IT.
I detest driving in snow. It scares me. No, scratch that. It TERRIFIES me. I drive an old car and my tires are almost bald. I don’t have four wheel drive, and I slide all over the road. For me, it doesn’t matter if it’s snow or ice. I STILL SLIDE. And that’s fucking scary. I feel like I’m putting my life at risk every day I have to drive to work when it’s snowing. I’m sorry I don’t have 4-wheel drive and new tires like you do.
I also hate being cold. Winter is incredibly overrated. Think about it: it’s cold, it’s wet, it gets dark early and stays dark late into the morning, and everything is dead and colorless. The only colors to be seen are gray, brown, black and deadly WHITE if there is snow on the ground (until it turns into black and brown slush a day or so later). After the colorful festivities of Christmas (which is barely into the winter anyway), there’s nothing left to look forward to until spring.
You also have to wear layers and layers of heavy, uncomfortable clothing that takes up time in the morning that could be better spent surfing the web, writing a new blog post, reading your daily affirmation, or leisurely nursing your cup of hot coffee instead of gulping it down. I can’t stand the itchy scarves, gloves that make you drop things, sweaters that make you look like you gained about 50 pounds, and hats that make your hair look like crap when you peel them off and sometimes give you electric shocks.
Oh, and there’s the cleanup too. Spending half an hour scraping the white stuff off my car windows and shoveling it out of my driveway so I can get where I’m going is not my idea of fun.
For normal people I just don’t get the love of snow.
I suppose I can understand someone who doesn’t have to work liking snow. They can sit and stare out the window at it all day wearing their jammies, or go out and build a snowman. That’s why kids like it–they get a day off of school. Most adults do not. If I want to see snow I’ll look at a picture of it, thank you very much.
I can understand why someone who can afford to go skiing every winter would love snow. But how many people are there who can actually afford to do that? Definitely a lot fewer than the number of idiots who smugly announce what a rough winter it’s going to be.
So I have one thing to say to you if you say those words to me:
Shut the fuck up and go fall in a snowbank.
I’ll take the bugs, heat and humidity of summer any day.