Blogger Meet Up 2013

I am sure y’all remember that huge (imaginary) New Year’s meet up most of us partook in, even if you “don’t remember”. Although it was almost two months ago, I think it is safe to say its memory is still more enchanting than anyone could have fathomed.

No one remembers this?!

Now, imagine if that had been real life. The sensation you just felt was the process of your mind exploding.  But bare with me here.

Lately, I have noticed that a lot of mystical and cosmic encounters have been occurring among WordPress bloggers. While we were all getting classy-trashy at our party, Tracy spent New Year’s Eve with none other than Le Clown and his troops IRL. Vyvacious got to meet Sweet Mother and the fearless Jillian Levi last month. The same Jillian Levi who got to meet up with Calahan after that. I am still not over that one. Hell, even La La announced at one point that she received some free travel miles and took to Facebook to get suggestions on a destination.

What does this all mean, and why do I feel so left out? Besides the fact that I am totally left out. (I wear my tweets on my sleeve)

I began stewing. After that, I began high jacking Facebook comment threads with jealous rants. Then, I decided to stop pouting and do something about it.

I e-mailed Jen demanding that we organize a blogger meet up for 2013. I’m imagining something out of You’ve Got Mail, only you don’t have to make out with anyone at the end if you don’t want. You also won’t go out of business (if you have one). You will, however, have to know how to spell fox. That’s the secret password to get into the meet up.

Jen then pooped her pants in agreement. Thank god I had some baby wipes handy. We obviously make a great team, so we decided to join forces to make this blorgy happen. We would like to work on getting a census of where everyone is located, come up with a centralized venue that would be ideal for most of the bloggers interested, and of course pick some date(s).

BUT FIRST, we need to find out if this is something in which bloggers out there would actually participate. Are you pooing your pants in excitement like Jen, or would you rather remain loving your blog friends from afar? Much like that really rank smelling, yet extremely sweet and helpful cousin of yours. Maybe you don’t give a shit either way, but please humor us.

If you wouldn’t mind, please take a second and let us know by answering the poll questions below in a comment. Actually, you better do it or else I am going to high jack the comment section of your blog and continuously post Harlem Shake video links until the spam filter catches me. Or something.

To meet or not to meet? That is the question.

1. Would you be interested in attending a blogger meetup?

2. What is the closest metropolitan area to you?

3. If you are down, what other place(s) would you like to have a meetup?

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Let’s Make a Deal

Three orders of business today puppets:

1. A major thank you is due to Le Clown yet again for being my hero. He is the mastermind behind taking what started as a photography experiment and turning it into the outstanding piece of banner you see at the top of my page. What you see today is the final product of much work. And he did it through a drug haze. Let’s all show him extra love today.

2. Speaking of Le Clown, there is an important post today on his second blog Black Box Warnings. It’s important, because I wrote it. It is also important, because it was not easy. I struggled with how to write this post. I beat myself up for not being able to pull out the serious. I avoided it like it was an army of bullfrogs. If you don’t know I hate frogs, you do now. But I prevailed. So please, check it out. If you love me you will (said the abusive guilt tripping blogger).

3. More guilt tripping. If you missed my post and vlog yesterday, you need to stop slacking and go read/watch it, because I was kind of sort of maybe really definitely proud of it.

Enjoy!

Who Are You Ty Ling?

Apparently, according to Google translate, Ty Ling translates precisely to “Ty Ling” in English. I assume from this in-depth research that Ty Ling is not a phrase, adjective, verb, or even just a noun. It is a proper noun. A name. But who are you Ty Ling?

Recently, I have posted a few fortunes on my Twitter feed that I particularly enjoyed. Today for your entertainment, I will share with you my insight into this Ty Ling character, which I acquired by finishing off the box of his or her fortune cookies last night for dinner.  

Ty Ling… Bigs? I have got to work on my product placement.

Fortune # 1: “It’s kind of fun to do the impossible.”

What is impossible, Ty Ling, is how you got those slivers of paper into those cookies without fusing the two together during baking, or without breaking the cookie post bake. If they are even baked at all. Fun for you, sure. Mind boggling for me.

Fortune # 2: “Made in USA.”

You cheeky bastard, Ty Ling. This is my show, stop stealing it.

Fortune # 3: “In a gentle way, you can shake the world.”

Really, Ty Ling? I bet that people wouldn’t agree with the same concept regarding babies. But thanks. I guess.

Fortune # 4: MIA

I guess you forgot to work your magic on that one, Ty. 

Fortune # 5: “Love is as necessary to human beings as food and shelter.”

You are throwing curve balls now, Ling. I have no clue where you get this shit. 

Fortune # 6: “Friendship is an ocean that you cannot see the bottom.”

False. I’ve seen all of my true friends’ asses.

Fortune # 7: “Let your hook be always cast. In the pool where you least expect it, will be fish.”

This is not even a fortune. It’s simply sound advice. But, I do love salmon, so thanks.

If I have learned nothing else by this experiment, it is that Ty Ling is a sassy individual, and that his or her fortune cookies have the nutritional value just shy of cardboard sprinkled with nine grams of sugar.

Bonus nutritional fact: Fortune cookies contain zero milligrams of cholesterol but five-cookies-per-110-calorie-serving worth of blog material. They are a bargain.

How would your perfect fortune read?

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Don’t Hate The Re-Gifted Blog

I am overwhelmed since the end of Becca on Fire, so this is an old post I wrote back in May that I re-edited for today. I wanted to revisit my blog’s history for a moment of deep reflection on how things have changed and how I have grown.

We both know that’s not true. I am really just too busy re-gifting last year’s snuggies and bad DVDs. So here, have this re-gifted blog specially selected by me for you. I will most likely not post again until the weekend. Instead, this week I will throw myself back into YOUR blogs that have been neglected in lieu of the beautiful chaos.

Is it just me, or is Tuesday the most uneventful day of the week? Check it out.

• Monday is the black sheep of the weekday family, but at least it is known for something. It’s famous for all the wrong reasons, but that’s the way to do it these days, right?

• Wednesday is kind of like the just-popular-enough step brother of Thursday. It also is often referred to by using the word hump, which is never a bad thing unless it is in the same sentence with the word surprise or butt. If you aren’t familiar with humping, just ask Daan.

• Thursday is just close enough to Friday to switch your thoughts from putting proximity mines in your favorite co-worker’s cubicle, to thoughts of drinking rum in your  backyard in a hammock for two whole days. Isn’t that everyone’s idea of a weekend well spent?

• Friday = Parties, paychecks, and pandemonium. I don’t think elaboration is necessary.

• Saturday is Mecca. Saturday is that distant cousin of all other week days who ran off from the weekday family to live a Summer in Paris sipping Cafe au Lait by day and squandering Absinthe by night. It is the day to sleep in, do whatever you want, and then entertain the enchanting notions of  the unpredictable course Saturday night could take you. OR you can play Hitman until your eyeballs look weird and everyone thinks you are either stoned or Steve Buscemi.

• Finally, there is Sunday Funday. Even the most chill day of the week gets an inviting name. Host of family barbecues, abundant naps, football, catching up on housework, and maybe even a little front porch swing action, Sunday is akin to Wednesday but with slightly better genes.

What happened to Tuesday? You never hear anyone say, “Dude, you will never believe what went down last Tuesday”. Okay, maybe you might, but for me Tuesdays remain the most mundane of all the days, and the only thing that’s “going down” is my spirits.

Maybe I will reinvent Tuesday. It’s time to take the monotony out of Tuesday. It will finally be envied by all the other weekdays. Here is what I am thinking:

Tool Tuesday: Wrap things in tulle while listening to Tool and sitting on a stool.
Why it won’t work: Tuesday will always suck, and I used all of my tulle to make an indoor hammock for Saturday.

I will be working on getting my shit together and writing a legitimate post with awards, tequila, fireworks,  people doing ridiculous things in horse masks and maybe even some real jokes! You know, something worth seeing. Until then, please go visit Le Clown and help him get another deserving blogger Freshly Pressed. There, I pulled a Santa. I am done until 2013.

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A Tangerine in a Bowl Full of Oranges

What a lovely shade of Cheetoh! (Google Images)

I know it is hard to believe, but occasionally I do enjoy doing girly things like getting my nails done. I’m sure my nail lady thinks I am boring because I never dare let acrylic anywhere near me, and I almost always get a neutral color job. I also absolutely won’t opt for shellac. My fingernails are nails for heaven’s sake, not hard wood floors.

Homely nails or not, the experience is anything but plain for me. I get approximately three hours to just sit and do nothing… except maybe explain why I don’t have a boyfriend to “Jenny” or fight off the tickle reflex that leaves me praying I won’t accidentally punt my pedicurist. I am physically incapable of doing so much nothing anywhere else.

There is something about beauty salons that make people itch to talk. It is usually the customers who gossip away while Jenny and the gang nod silently every so often to feign interest. This is the case for all employees at my nail salon except for one particular manicuring machine named Song. She is a talker. Not only does she talk, but she is actually quite the joker. She can find a punch line in any situation. Naturally, I adore her.

Just last week I was letting my feet boil soak while waiting for my pedicurist to come give my feet dirty looks, when Song appeared and began working on the woman’s feet next to me. If you could call them feet. The particularly large woman was there for some relaxation with her two gal pals positioned in the chairs surrounding her. She was on her way to get married, and to add to the excitement, so were both of her friends. It turns out they were having a three-way-wedding, thus Song had three brides’ feet on her hands. Are you lost in extremities yet?

You would think Song would be a bit nervous given the task, and it didn’t help that the brides-to-be were nothing short of bossy, but miraculously she was on top of her game. She wasn’t missing a beat or a single hangnail for that matter. She even managed to successfully locate a “tangerine” colored nail polish at one of the bridezilla’s adamant requests. Meanwhile, I was busy debating whether or not I needed to translate my color request into a fruit name equivalent.

Song finished off her pedicure/comedy routine with a nice quip about not getting the grooms mixed up at the altar and sent the three walking traffic cones on their peachy way. With my feet freed and my toes looking exactly as they did when I arrived, I headed for the door. Before I left,  I slipped Song a ten-dollar bill accompanied by a grin and a wink.

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Hey Lady, I Heard You Like Jokes…

Jokes are skeleton keys to manipulating a multitude of situations. People use them to ease awkward or uncomfortable conversations or experiences. Marketers use them to capture customer attention. Even someone as serious as the President uses jokes (even if it is poorly executed). Opportunities for jokes are everywhere, so it makes sense that they are abundant.

I personally cringe to see a good sexual joke go neglected. Luckily, my friends find this wildly entertaining as opposed to obnoxious (which is probably a more accurate description). In fact, one of my friends and I enjoy this pastime so much that we developed the “Hey Lady/Hey Pal” game. The rules are simple. The joke must be unexpected, sexual in nature, and read or spoken in a typical Boston accent. The basic structure looks like this:

“Hey lady/pal, I heard you like _______. Well, I got your _________ RIGHT HERE! Yeah!” 

Here is a real life example for better understanding:

Friend texts: “I’m getting dentisted right now.” (translation: I am at the dentist’s office for a routine teeth cleaning)

My response: “Hey lady, I heard you like going to the dentist. Well, I got your palette expander RIGHT HERE! Yeah!”

One more to demonstrate the female version, and because I can’t control myself:

Friend sends me a picture of a job site he is working at doing manly lumberjack stuff 

Me: “Hey pal, I heard you like landscaping. Well, I’ve got a field you can plow RIGHT HERE! Yeah!”

Once the joke war has commenced, the first one to respond with anything other than a hey lady/pal joke loses.What kind of ridiculous games do you and your friends play?

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Tuesday Snoozeday

Is it just me, or is Tuesday the most uneventful day of the week? Check it out.

• Monday may very well be the black sheep of the weekday family, but at least it is known for something. At least you can fill the hours of your day with incessant bitching.

• Wednesday is kind of like the just-popular-enough step brother of Thursday. It also is often referred to by using the word hump. The only time this is a bad thing is when you are driving over a misnamed speed hump bump going way too fast.

• Thursday is just close enough to Friday to put some pep back in your step. It is also my favorite weekday (dubbed thirsty Thursday), because by then yours truly becomes parched, and the only remedy is Jim Beam.

• Friday = Parties, paychecks, and pandemonium. I don’t think elaboration is necessary.

• Saturday is Mecca. Saturday is that distant cousin who ran off from the weekday family to live a Summer in Paris sipping Cafe au Lait by day and squandering Absinthe by night. It is the day to sleep in, do whatever you want, and then entertain the enchanting notions of  the unpredictable course Saturday night could take you.

• Finally, there is Sunday Funday. Even the most chill day of the week gets an inviting name. Host of family barbecues, abundant naps, football, catching up on housework, and maybe even a little front porch swing action, Sunday is akin to Wednesday but with slightly better genes.

What happened to Tuesday?

Behold the Feline Frock

It has been such a busy day that my abilities of being funny, witty or even mildly entertaining are as gone as the five cookies I ate for lunch. I have no regrets. So, yet again, I am going to let the internet do my work for me. Well, internet cats specifically (see next paragraph). I’ve got to stop doing this. I wanted to write about my adventures in drumming today and research some good electric sets, being that it has been almost a month since I have been able to attacked my acoustic. Since I sold it, I am missing it probably as much as everyone misses the old Facebook layout. I am in the market for a decent yet affordable electric set and figured I may luck out and receive some feedback from someone with input on the subject. I feel a little bit like my stress has been lingering in my shoulders lately. Oh yea, that’s because I haven’t been able to come home and beat the shit out of something for an hour every day until I am marginally a little more deaf. Duh. Maybe I will get to that post tomorrow.