Realizations that travel through Gmail

I’m not really a YouTube watcher. When I get a link or hear about the latest YouTube craze, I look. And then of course there are all of the other videos that pop up on the right side of the screen that taunt you to keep clicking. But I got an email from a great friend that had a link that I took a lot of notice of because it hit home.

I am probably behind in the music scene, I’m a classic rock fan anyway, but the link she sent was this Gnarls Barkley video. The song is called “Who’s Gonna Save My Soul?” It’s enough to actually get me to buy the CD. And I don’t really buy CDs. Who does anymore?

Anyway, here it is.

I feel weird that a music video has made me reflect. I hoped you watched it because here is my tirade:

Why does it work this way? I didn’t really give it much thought. But now that I have on this dark Hurricane Ike day, I can think of one guy who ruined my heart and another who walked away with it. That’s at least the simplisitic version. And both happened at least half a decade ago. Since then I think I don’t really look at men the same. Not that I compare anyone I’ve dated to them, but maybe knowing that I have already gone down that route means that once I try to travel it again, I’m already damaged goods. Yep. I said it. Damaged. Most men will say, “Ah! Told you. Women hold a grudge!” But I’m not bitter. I’m just more aware of what is at stake EVERYTIME I decide to date again. I know how temporary it all is and I’ve yet to be proved wrong. Or feel the need to feel bad about it. It just is.

I’ve grown so much since that first real relationsship. And I’m growing even still, even in this past year. What does it all mean in the end? Maybe it doesn’t matter. Maybe it’s like I said. It just is. Am I supposed to dissect it?

Blogging for sanity

That really should be on a shirt someplace. And actually I already have a worthless CafePress account so maybe I should make some.

I am a converted, longtime yeller. If you aren’t sure what that means, it basically says I’ve stopped yelling. Well, at least I’ve tapered off a great deal. For one: It was one of my resolutions. And for two: It gets old. People don’t care what you have to say when you yell. So I pick my poison, which is usually this blog. People may still not care, but at least I’ve saved my vocal cords and a day’s worth of headaches.

I mean it when I say I stay sane here. I could of course choose other routes of medicating which may have been the true reason why I have been so sick. Drinking is evil. What’s even more evil is Tuaca. I loved him once before, but he and so many others have ruined me. And now I can’t drink anything. I’m now a tonic water and lemon drinker. I’m now the chick who may look lame when she doesn’t ask for a martini or margarita while among those who can drink both on a good day. I’ve channeled it all at this place and I guess I have been for a while — even during those times when Tuaca actually was good to me.

Times have changed and I’ve hit well over 30,000 hits for this almost year-old blog. I’m happy to report that I’m much saner than I would have been without it. Between LOL cats, venting my frustrations about politics, relationships and whatever else gets stuck in my craw or whatever brings me seer delight — I throw it all down. I have a journal I keep by my bedside but I have since neglected it. I will be in some real trouble if I don’t keep this blog up and print everything out because it’s been an interesting year.

I’ve loved and lost (thank God), ventured into the adult world and tried to be a homeowner, dropped some weight and then some since coming down with what I’m calling my “Turning 30-itis,” been in the emergency room four times, threw up on an airplane 50 times, put up with a comic (a bad one at that) for a boyfriend, helped throw together a benefit concert, became estranged with a good friend, became un-estranged with said friend, went to Vegas, got a new position at work, had my first ever art show, bought a new car that gets better gas mileage than yours  (hello 36 mpg) and mentored a high-school student through the pains of journalism. And that’s all off the top of my head.

I know I will be repeating something like this spiel of crap next month when it’s been an official year since I’ve started blogging, but I felt like rehashing the good, the bad and the downright exhausting in one post. If you get curious, feel free to play in my search box at the top of the page. You might like what you dig up.

And as for commemorating 30,000 plus, and hopefully hitting a million one day *sigh*, please enjoy this bit of bliss…

 I don’t care if it’s old…

Oh. You know that I had  to link to my favorite. It makes me happy and it never gets old.

And finally…for you Breakfast Club obsessed people who KEEP googling Anthony.

 

 

Third date comedy…

For all the yuck in the world (especially life’s wonderful ways to constantly go in the direction you didn’t want), sometimes karma rewards you with something good…(but never without complications).

My latest video of my Eligible Editor series features the guy I’m currently seeing and since it is kind of a silver bullet to a relationship to get into too much detail on a blog, this video is as personal I will get from now on unless something really crazy funny comes up during this interesting courtship. Then that’s another story…

Video: Who hasn’t had a bad prom?

I know I have. If you want to read more about it, go here. But because my job is pretty cool (I have my moments), I got to go get my groove on and still call it work. Please forgive any darkness in the video, we aren’t really at a point of super fancy lighting yet. Ah, maybe one day…

Click the pic

How to take the higher road…

Deciding it doesn’t matter what an emotionally inept blogger has to say about you. By the end of the day, does it really matter what he or she believes? Blogs are great in that we are able to voice our thoughts to everyone and anyone. And we hear new viewpoints. All of which should be constructive. The blogs I can’t stand are the ones that attack people from just one blog post instead of reading the whole thing. Thanks Nectarfizz for pointing that out and Micky for getting my back. And that’s the cool thing right there. Both bloggers I mentioned are vastly different. And I’m different in many ways from them. But somehow we make it all work over here. Even when we don’t all agree. What we can agree on though is realizing we are not defined by people who don’t have a clue about us.

But because we all just need to laugh. Here is this gem…

Video: Your lowercase “t” is showing…

Since I’ve been in the doldrums of political madness this week, I’m going to post a slice of funny. Well. I hope it’s funny anyway. Here is a video we shot for work that shows me, the “Eligible Editor” (blah) and her friend getting their handwriting analyzed.

Here’s what I can tell you that wasn’t kid-friendly or good for tape:

1. My “y’s” show that I have a high sex drive. Hum.

2. My “t’s” show that I have a slight self-esteem problem. Really?! I didn’t think I did but maybe that’s just something you don’t really know but just get told to you?

3. Apparently I don’t really have high standards when it comes to men. I don’t know about now but that sure does explain my past flubs!!

Click the pic and enjoy…

 

I’m a little late on Mardi Gras…

But I have another video for you…

And can I say, it’s actually possible to be sober during Mardi Gras inspired festivities though I’m not sure I would recommend it. Especially if you have to work while other people are having a lot more fun than you. The good news: at least I have something to show for it other than a massive hangover!

A naughty skeleton…

HAPPY HALLOWEEN, FOLKS.

It looks like by the end of the day I will have popped my 10,000 hit cherry. To celebrate both the Halloween spirit and my five-digit deflowering, here’s a skeleton with something to show you. Enjoy the festivities!

STD free is the life for me…

That may sound like a cheesy PSA or after-school special. But damn it’s so true. Being a single chick in this day and age of crazy STD stats is a tough sport. You kind of feel like saying, “It’s hard out here for a pimp…“

Because man, even though I’ve been thinking a lot lately about the things your mama says you shouldn’t, I’m not really feeling like risking things. I get tested every year. And every year feels like, *coughs* dodging a bullet, even when you know you stayed safe. Do I really have to discuss the reliability, or lack there of, when it comes to protection? I hate the word abstinence but I like my life. So if I’m not catching my share of worth-a-crap fish, I’m not going to risk my health on a quick swim. What’s a girl to do when she has a healthy appetite? Good thing I don’t live in Alabama.

Some may say that the stats big bad government gives us are exaggerated. However I highly doubt it. Mainly because it seems like two out of every five people I’ve ever met in my life have or had an STD. I don’t need to Google or go to the library for reinforcements here. That alone is enough. Why is sex so appealing? What a dumb question.

What I should really be asking is why does sex have to be so damn cursed? If you believe in Genesis, then maybe Eve can be our theory. Eve messed up royally grabbing that apple. Was that the beginning of crabs? Did she and Adam get an itchy rash after sharing the bittersweet fruit? I’m not aiming at being blasphemous. I’m really asking. There has to be traceable origin of the first STD which I’m guessing was syphilis. Any STD scholars out there? The ladies over at The Blog of Knowledge have some fun and usable sex-filled advice. Maybe I should ask them… 

But I’ve really digressed. I just want to state the obvious: I have embraced and ranted about being a single gal but we all have needs — even defiant bitches like me. Some folks will tell you to get a FB. I’m not big into the FB stuff. It never ends well and someone always ends up wanting more…OR when the other gets a girlfriend or boyfriend, there went your easy access to booty.

Do I really have to get in a serious relationship to feel safe? And even when you do, man…don’t get me started on cheating. Gee after writing about it, sex seems like too much trouble…

 Here’s a victory dance…

 

It’s OK Britney, there are lots of bad moms

 These just didn’t lose their kids…

 Granted. This mom is teaching this kid what NOT to do.

And the bonus is a kid who learned that song about fornication.