So, I've been using my Typepad account instead of VOX, and whenever I come back over this way I have shit loads of spam comments to delete. Surely, VOX, if you delete a spam account, it should automatically delete all of the spam comments they've left as well?
And why is it if I delete a spam comment, it doesn't disappear from my recent comments box in my sidebar?
ANNOYING.
Who would you most like to be stuck in an elevator with?
that horrible man i used to work for..
Least like?
...witnesses.
- Laundry is.. laundered.
- Dryer cycle has finished
- ...while i am standing in front of it
- and laundry is WARM.. WARM is good.
- nothing good is on TV
- nothing bad is on TV
- gmail is DOWN
- facebook is uninteresting
- vox is read/updated
- myspace spam is deleted
- I am not hungry / thirsty / tired and all bathroom functions have been executed
- Jonas is not laying in a cute way
- my phone isn't ringing and
- i have no voice mails
- mercury is not in retrograde
that about covers it. off to delete myspace spam.
and i still managed a nap... OHhhh the freedom of a day-shift Friday!
BF fiance and i are going to see a terrific show this weekend. It's a date!
My hair is fabulous. It had a much-needed trim and all the color updated.
I'm running a dance tonight. Nashville: come get your Blues on.. Global Ed Center 8:30 - 11:30pm. Socks will be rocked... if you act now, they could be your socks.
happy weekend.
I have had three solid days of anxiety attacks in the last 2 weeks, with no apparent external cause. A year ago, this would have freaked my shit out, and i would have let these bad days eat at me until i was a soggy, weeping mess curled up in the fetal position on the floor of my bathroom. However in the last six months or so I have learned how to manage my anxiety; coming up with plans of 'attack' (har-har-har) to prevent them at best, and cope with them otherwise.
At this point, anxiety attacks feel to me.. a lot like sharing a bathroom with my little brother. it's uncomfortable and awkward, and things get a little dicey when I need to be somewhere on time, but eventually he'll be out of there and I'll have the space to myself for a while. it's annoying, but it is NOT the end of the world.
I think you'll find that since i joined facebook, my blogging quality and quantity has dropped about 7000% from the mediocrity of before.
see i don't even know how to phrase that, but you know what i mean.
i started one yesterday, not about much, but i 'paused' it and never found the inspiration to pick it back up. which is fine because mostly it was lamenting the same thing this blog is. namely: i am a lazy, narcissistic bastard, with no actual friends.
i have SO much i should be doing. fiance' and i are moving into A Real House* in october, which means, in theory, all the boxes i have brought home from work should be packed up and labeled and left ready to be loaded into a truck. however there they are and here i am, and no packing fairy has arrived to take care of that particular task for me.
similarly, i should be studying for my Cisco bootcamp** in October. I'm dead set on passing that CCNA test. However I haven't actually channeled that desire into any amount of opening of books or note taking. My most involved effort on that front: purchasing graph paper.
i don't know. i feel like success starts with graph paper.
or at least, it helps.
the aborted blog also addressed my recent mood swings. No i am not pregnant. Yes, i have mood swings. I have been happily off crazy-pills for.. .. uhh.. since april, and i'm now able to explore all the heights and depths of the human spirit as god intended.. or something. no actually, it's probably nothing like that. commercials make me cry, ok? especially the ATT commercial with the kid and the LOST DOG posters. omG. Niagara falls, frankie angel. and there are other things. stupid things. that make me mist up ridiculously and at inopportune times. it's probably hormones. here i am in the peak of my breeding years, spending all my nurturing, diaper changing, cookie-baking energies on a (totally empty-- c'est la vie) farmer's market dance.. and Mafia Wars.
it's all a trick, you see. when you hit 30, your body makes you think you are empty inside, so that you will fill it up quite literally with a Baby (and thereby ensure the survival of the species).
tricky nature. i'm not having it. or Having It. get it?
tomorrow is my mom's birthday... 50. I sent her a gift (on time, if you can believe that) and she left me a sweet, happy, totally normal and bubbly voicemail. i saved it. i havent' heard her like that in a hundred years, and it's nice.
also tonight, i miss paul. I was talking with a sort of guy friend and i was reminded (by the contrast) what it's like to have a Lifelong Friend, who knows like everything, and there is history and rapport. history is so crucial. and love and concern, and respect and honesty, and i just don't see those things spawning naturally these days. there is just something about adolescence that cements that. there's all the things you don't talk about but you know about, and knowing is sometimes enough.
paul was very special and i'll never be able to replace him.
So it's time for bed. time to love (and i do love) what i have here and now, here and now.
goodnight moon.
*rental.
**i don't even know why i astrisked this.
i have sworn, in fact as recently as yesterday, that i wouldn't be caught dead twittering... but something moved me today to join. i don't know what that 'something' was, but it was probably rooted in
a) my desire to have the twitter name i got before anyone else got it
b) my feelings of dance neglect and abandonment because none of the advanced/pro nashville swing dancers really care to come to my dance at the farmer's market unless NOTHING else is going on.
b) makes me feel bad about myself.... like i can't host an event worth going to. i'll keep doing it tho, hoping the beginner/intermediates get something out of it, even lacking the inspiration we all so greatly need to keep us motivated. one day, maybe some completely unexpected community member will find something about the dance to love, and it will change his/her life, and that will give me the validation i am so obviously, desperately, seeking.
blah.
fiance got new glasses. we're not sure they fit him well, but i can't help thinking he's just adorable, even in his ill-fitting glasses. i wonder what would have to happen to make him unattractive to me?? this must be love. i'm smitten.
a smitten-twittite.
