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!

Sunday Morning

Make that, Sunday afternoon. R and I are some lazy mofos. We did go to a late movie last night and I did get up 30 minutes before him, at 11:15 but we really don’t have any good reason to be so goshdarned LAZY.

Has anyone read any good books lately? I’m talking chick lit, nothing too deep. I know I should be a smart and shit and read books like R reads - but, eh. I like to be entertained, not bored. ;)

I finished Room for Love the other day, and it was really cute and funny. Not dumb chick lit, I think you know what I’m talking about. Last night, I finished Cocktails for Three (which is written by the author of all the Shopaholic books) and it was “okay”. I don’t like touchy feely girl power books. Does that make me unfemininist?

Course, a true feminist probably doesn’t read these sorts of books to begin with.

Last night, before the movie, R and I went to Borders so I could get a new book. I ended up with A Tale of Two Sisters by Anna Maxted. I happen to LOVE Anna’s writing, to the degree R even remembered her name when he saw what I was buying. But, a few pages in, this one hasn’t grabbed me yet. We’ll see.

While we were there, I checked to see if they had the Basquiat calender she bought, but I didn’t see it so I got the vintage beverage posters one instead. For like 6.50! Which included 4 note cards! That I framed! See:

I haven’t figured out where to hang them yet.

Charlie Wilson’s War was good but it made me feel a little guilty. Pre-R, I never watched the news, never paid attention to world affairs, never cared to learn about any of that stuff. So I was sitting there wondering what the hell I was doing in 1988-89 when part of this was going on…

I thought about it for a few minutes and then finally figured I was either teasing my bangs, drinking Purple Passion at a park with friends, or at the mall buying Generra and Esprit sweaters. Isn’t that what you did in the 80’s? Don’t lie.

I’d like to tell myself that I’ll pay more attention from now but the truth is, I probably won’t. I AM better than I was Pre-R but I know 15 years from now when they make a bunch of movies about Iraq, I’ll watch them and go: that really happened? Where was I?! Deep as a puddle, I am.

I’ve made some changes to my links. Anything registration-only has been moved to my dashboard. That way, I can still access it but it won’t be displayed. I don’t want to be sending readers off to blogs they can’t even read for themselves. Before you go and get your cackles up, this isn’t directed at any one person - but the rash of registration-only blogs lately.

Look people, my sister found my blog and would sit on it for hours on end, reading every single post word for fucking word. She would come 10-15 times a DAY to see if I posted something new. She printed out posts and read them to other family members. My blog still gets talked about at family gatherings and my words were twisted to things I never even meant to say. If MY shit can still be open after such a traumatic event, so can yours.

I can understand some posts being private, making different reader levels or what have you but locking the shit up tighter than a drum so people you never even met can’t read it? Come on. Hiding posts from family members and people you actually know? THAT, I can understand. THAT, actually affects your life; your “real” life. Otherwise, get over it.

I’m telling you right now, if I ever get that paranoid about my blog (and I have my moments of panic, trust me) and random people that may be reading, I’ll take my happy ass right back to Borders, buy a smart looking journal and a pretty pen and keep my thoughts to myself.

I’ll get off my soapbox now, if I pissed you off, I apologize. But my time to be online, blogging and surfing blogs is in short supply and remembering passwords for every single one is beyond my realm of comprehension. I spontaneously forget the PIN number to my debit card for crying out loud.

I’m off to eat quiche with R. Doesn’t it look lovely? (if I do say so myself)…

Happy Sunday!