I can’t think of a catchy blog post title.
Pre-Blog Note: Usually I try to edit the crap out of these posts until there is not a single mistake to be found (by my standards, which are on again off again strict) but this time I’m too tired. So if something doesn’t make sense, pretend it does. It’s how I get by.
So this isn’t an excuse for being negligent with my blog, and it’s not me attempting to gain any kind of forgiveness (though it would not be turned away, if you so choose to forgive me.) I also will accept donations.
No, what I have here is an honest to goodness (what is “goodness” anyway? It sounds like a Brian blog title…) update on what normally would be a daily updated web log thingy. I really don’t have anything interesting, or even remotely funny to write about. Just a lot of lame shit that piled up and coincidentally prevented me from visiting this part of the internet to do what it is that usually helps me in my daily procrastination ritual. I’m not saying that I’ve not procrastinated most of this summer, au contraire. Life doesn’t go on without me putting off what keeps the world turning. No, I just have been procrastinating in ways that do not involve blogging. (This is where my readers do that faux gasp in terror, as if the apocalypse has come, as prophesized by the goddess’s stories of neglected technology journaling.) Sorry, it’s been so long since I’ve blogged that I am allowing myself to be carried away in my BS whilst simultaneously not making the point I set out to publish here.
{There was a pause here for contemplation on my part. I really need to find a more clever way to let the reader know when I do that, without putting in a really stupid explanation of an actionless action. Paradox anyone?}
Alright, moving on. You might say that my number one reason for not blogging lately was that I was very busy pretending to prepare for my best friends’ wedding. I was a bridesmaid, which gave me the delusion that I would have many duties to fulfill. This of course is utter phooey (that’s the word of the day), as my soul and undeniably singular tasks (like the contradiction here?) were to show up in time for wedding photos, walk not run down the isle in line with my clones, and of course, set the mood for the bride, who had all the real important jobs… like looking fantastic, being adored by a churchfull of sappy-eyed friends and family, and making sure that her big day was not a total chaotic flop. I would have helped her with some of that, but I was much too busy believing I had important tasks to do.
Importance is my middle name. Or it would be if it wasn’t {ugly word edit}. Which reminds me, I still have to finish that name change paperwork… My middle name is supposed to be Sapphire. Right, and anyway, I mentioned that I was very concerned with my duties as a bridesmaid. So for the previous weeks leading up to my two best buddies from college finally tying the knot, I simply meditated and spent way too much money on bridal shower and wedding gifts that I had to buy for them, because I just knew no one else would. They couldn’t live without those items, trust me. I had to save their lives. (Some of the gifts I made sure to get them were: a garter for the bride, which is kind of like a gift for the groom too, an engraved gold-plated tag and wine colored cat collar with rhinestones for the bride’s new pet cat, and the all too important kitchen appliance: the rice cooker.)
So as you can see, prior to the wedding, I simply could not write in my web log, for I was mentally preparing myself for the very important task of being wedding furniture and friendly wallet. On a quick side note, I was more than happy to be matrimonial décor for my friends and wanted nothing more than to dote on them both with many gifts. And because I’m skipping the country again soon, I had to leave a good chunk of myself with them so they won’t forget me. Now every time they eat a bowl of rice they’ll think, “wow we’re poor. Can’t we eat better?”
Okay, so that really has nothing to do with remembering me, but I can pretend. I guess what I’m trying to say over all in this paragraph is that I hope no one takes my furniture comment as a complaint. I’m sure some angry-sounding sarcasm is dripping from the words, but I was hoping my words would be interpreted as joyful reminiscing on my part, rather than heinous bitching. It’s hard to be funny. I’m always afraid I come off more whiny than cheeky. Not that I want to be cheeky, but it’s far better than the overused sarcasm in today’s comedic cesspool. I’m trying to bring back the silly in humor. Angry just doesn’t do it for me anymore. It’s so high school.
In other news, I also shaved my pussy. And so far, this announcement has coaxed many a deep blush from men of all ages and maturity levels. However, I mean quite literally I shaved Farfie, my pet cat. Since I have a pretty nasty handicap (pet dander), I’ve not been able to pet my small kitty in almost a year. So when I finally forked out the cash to have the poor dear stripped of her pelt, I have had less time to type away online, because I had to pet the pussy. Just one more reason for my negligence here on Word Press. And for those of you who are curious, Farfie is sitting in my lap as I type this, wondering why the hell I’m not petting her. She has that, “you can touch me now, wtf” look in her eye that clearly lets me know I’m in trouble for petting the computer rather than her. Let’s hear it for jealous pussies. And I just now reread this paragraph and realized how double entendre this could be. I’ll let you be the judge of how you interpret it… (yay! ellipsis!)
{Here’s another awkward pause by yours truly.}
Let’s see, I’ve also been spending a great deal of time playing lawyer-threat tennis with my landlord. It feels like every time we have a disagreement (which is almost every time we speak) one of us threatens to sick our lawyer on the other one. The whole situation is actually hilarious to me. Not because I think our fights are petty (I know they are) but because I’m pretty sure neither of us actually has a lawyer on call/ on a payroll to defend our cases against the other.
However, I have no doubt in my mind that legal representation would not be hard to acquire if either my landlord and I finally decide to cut the idle threats and go for the gizzard. We wont though. My roommate and I are moving out this month. We’ll be out of the place before the landlord grows a backbone and decides to part with the money he doesn’t have to pay a guy to fail at making his case. So all is right with the world. But since we’re on the topic of my epic cold war with a shitty lessor, I might also point out how difficult it is to update blogs while waging evil-eye staring contests with a middle-aged (failing) entrepreneur who has too much property to handle and is too cheap to hire real agents.
Oh, and since we’re still on the topic of my neglected blog, I also would like to admit right here and now that my negligent streak is far from over. I am having a major garage sale this coming weekend, and will be studying my TEFL certification course and my last EWU course during my spare time while I’m preparing, pricing, and organizing the 95% of crap I need to rid myself of before I can move overseas. That means—you guessed it—I will probably not write anything worth reading for yet another week out of this summer. And two weeks after that, I’m going to Twin Falls, ID to visit relatives for another five to seven days. I’m not sure if they have electricity there, so I’m going to assume there’s no internet and warn you not to expect a blog post then, either.
So that’s all I have really to say about what’s been going on as of late. Again, this wasn’t an excuse or anything. It’s all just random crap to blog about, since gawd only knows why else I’ve not posted lately. Jeezus, you’d think I’d have developed a life or something. Or got a boyfriend or something. I know my lack of men is totally not contributing to my lack of blogging… hell, I can’t believe I’ve suffered from lack of men for this lon—wait, correction, I’m not “suffering” from that—anyway, I mean it’s still hard to believe how little masculine “presence” I’ve had this summer. Hopefully the adults in the room will understand what I mean, because I hate to be vulgar on accident, and I’m really not in the mood to be blunt-to-a-fault at the moment. I’m starting to wonder if the male influence in my daily life inspires to me write more, because (according to my calendar) there is a definite correlation between the amount of blogging I do to the amount of male contact I have. I should make a line graph to demonstrate the phenomenon. But I won’t. It would probably have a subliminal message between the blue and red lines that convince all who see it to forget to breath. It happens sometimes.
Random observation: I used a shit ton of hyphens in this blog. Whoopi.
