Not So Blonde

Twittering on the edge

Between Flickr‘ing and Twitter‘ing my ass off this weekend, somewhere along the line I feel like I lost all ability to post. ha! That’s the problem, I only have so much “creative energy” (term used loosely) and it can’t possibly stretch to more than 1 or 2 things. Two and a half things, tops.

So I give you, a half-assed post.

That reminds me of this one time, when I must have been around 10, I saw my brother doing the dishes and I yelled to my mom: “Moooooooooom! Jamie is doing the dishes half-assed!” Kids! *slap knee*

In case you haven’t caught me on Twitter, Flickr, Twattr, Flocker, whatever… I have been house-sitting all weekend. At first when Nic asked I said “YES!”, with gusto. Probably for no other reason than I always say “YES!”, with gusto and agree to do things that are a few days out. It just seems so far away, ya know?

But then, the weekend drew near and I wasn’t sure that I wanted to do it. R left for San Diego Friday and I thought I’d want to stay home, cling to the cats, and cry. Glance at his side of the bed and wail. Leave glasses that he used sitting around the house and not clean them, in a makeshift shrine. R’s… lips… touched… thiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiis!

It’s probably best I got out of my own house. I dread going home tonight, though, Sunday. Sundays are such lonely days. There really is nothing good about them. I never really do anything, I don’t talk much to anyone, I mostly will do laundry and clean… and wait for the work week to start.

Pssht. Sundays.

Speaking of work, I love my new job. Not the “new” one I spoke about briefly before, the NEW new one. Oh, so you thought I only had to decide between a job in L.A. and a job here in Phoenix? I went and made it much more complicated. Nothing, you may find, is EVER easy with me.

I love it and that’s all I’ll say… Other than… this is my new favorite restaurant. My you-know-who at the you-know-where took me for my first day on the you-know-what.

I would have loved to have taken pictures - at every turn of my head I saw something else that caught my eye. But you can’t exactly be going around snapping photos like Herb Ritts up in the joint with your new you-know-who from the you-know-where your first day on the you-know-what without them thinking that you’re YOU-KNOW!!!

I’m quite certain the last 2 paragraphs make sense and amuse only me. *scroll up* Yeah. Completely certain.

I know it’s supposedly boring to blog about things you ate and whatnot but I ask, on what planet? I love to eat food, talk about food, take pictures of food, look at other people’s pictures of THEIR food… so on that note, I had for lunch:

turkey & brie sandwich

smoked turkey, sliced apples, melted brie, cranberry mayonnaise on cranberry walnut bread

fresh squeezed limeade

and for dessert:

lemon cake cookie

Basically, if sex formed itself into a cookie, covered itself in a scrumptious icing, was presented in a little white bag with “City Bakery” stamped on front, this would be it. I’m actually kind of scared of these cookies now: a) I know they exist and b) R’s gone. I see many of these cookies in my future.

Or, sex.

OH I KID. Stop looking at me like that! I got cookies and Ike Jr., what more could a woman possibly need? With her boyfriend, out of town, far far away??

If you don’t know who Ike Jr. is, or you have no clue - I’m not gonna tell. Use your imagination. The imagination you probably shouldn’t be using on Sunday. Yeah, that one.

Before I go lay by the pool (don’t hate, pat me on the back and say: NICE SUNBURN), I got caught up on my reality shows this weekend and I have some, shall we say, observations.

Flavor of Love: I’m pissed Prancer got cut. Mostly because Hotlanta is still there and Hotlanta skeeves me out. I was totally shocked when that bump on her lip wasn’t herpes. If she doesn’t have herpes, she’s got somethin’! And I’m more than a little tired of hearing how she “holds it down” for her 3 boys. Being a mother doesn’t always make you a great mother, it just makes you a mother. And the twins? YUCK! Yuck, okay?! Heave! As in, throw up! As in ho! Heave-ho!

Rock of Love: I find it hilarious Ambre is really 37. I can’t wait for this ep. Who but a child of the 80’s would have such large, multi-colored hair?! Her less than truthfulness is especially funny since she acted like it was a personal affront that Daisy is over there, lying up a storm to Bret. Don’t you hate when the girls say his name? Breeeeeeeeeeeet. Ugh! How can any man take all that bitching and skankiness! For the record, I don’t like Daisy, either. In fact I don’t like any of those skanks but there’s a train, there’s a wreck and there’s me, watching.

Real Housewives of NY: R got me sucked into this one. I’ll have you know he got me sucked into the O.C. series orginally, too. That R. If he likes housewives so much, why doesn’t he make me one?! Ha. Haha. R and I both agree the NYC women are rich like the women in the O.C. can only hope to be but… they’re kinda boring. Except Ramona but I’d rather someone bore me than irritate the shit out of me. And I feel for Bethenny, I want to give her a hug. I know she can be neurotic and shit but show me a woman who hears her clock ticking who isn’t. Aw, Bethenny, aw.

Celebrity Fit Club Boot Camp: This ep hasn’t aired yet, either, but as often as they run the promos I feel as if I’ve seen it a 100 times already. Anyway, how funny is it when Dustin Diamond, in all his douche bag glory, says: I’m not going to sit here and be made out to be a douche bag … wait for it… again. Oh dear me, classic! I’m thinking, if you’re repeatedly made out to seem like a douche bag, than you’re probably really just a douche bag.

I really have to go now. It’s much too nice of a day to sit here, typing to you my trashy reality TV obsessions. They make me feel normal, okay, that’s all that is. *smirk*

Happy Sunday, chickadees!