Happy thoughts


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It’s interesting to see just how much we humans agonize over happiness.  Isn’t it?  We research it, we read about it, we make lists about it, we dream, goal-set, prioritize, flip-flop, argue about it, we buy colorful magazines that talk about it, we buy a lot of things for it actually, we blame, we start to loathe it sometimes, and then…sometimes, all of a sudden, it’s here!

Strange.  How a few days in the sunshine and a little break from the normal routine can re-spark that zest for life.  Puts it all in perspective…that life is short and every day is a step towards something better and greater.  I find that it helps me to make lists of things…

…so here’s my list of things that are currently filling me up:

*Cadbury chocolate Mini-Eggs…they come out for Easter time and they are  my favorite.

*A new clever book called One More Thing: Stories and other Stories by BJ Novak.  It’s a collection of short stories written with wit and humor…my favorite!  He was a writer for The Office and he wrote the children’s book, The Book with No Words.

*My good friend is having a baby at any moment!  Her due date is today!  I remember those last days of waiting were so strange and interesting and excruciating…but the wait is so worth it.  Good Luck to her!!

*Um…sunshine!  It’s 40 degrees here in the chilly Midwest.  That, my friends, is a heat wave.  I like to think I brought it back with me.  I’ll take credit where credit is due.

*Yellow tulips

*FlexJobs.com…which I haven’t officially signed up for because I have to pay a monthly fee, but basically you can find freelance/telecommuting jobs with legit companies.  Not scam companies.  I can tell you more as I find out, but why not write some blog posts for someone part-time and get paid?  Right?  Write?  Right?

*Coffee delivered to me by my husband while I type…yessssssssss

*Another book that I ordered that will arrive on Tuesday.  It’s called Do Cool Shit (Quit your day job, Start your own business, and Live happily ever after).  Pretty sweet eh?  By Miki Agrawal.  Not saying I’m ready to start my own business but I just really like books that break down overwhelming, larger than life events with witty, down to earth writing.  Yup.

*New work digs!  My job moved locations last week and we start in a new, fresh space tomorrow!  It’s so strange but also super great.  It’s great that we are growing and able to expand a little.  Yay!

*The sketch comedy class that I’m taking online through The Second City.  Let’s get weird, people.

What’s making you guys happy lately?

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Things that make me think I can write better


When I’m trying to be a productive writer, and I use the term writer quite loosely, there are a few things that I like to use to trick my brain into being more focused….and hopefully more creative and clear.

*Eddie Vedder radio on Pandora (this is an obvious one…obviously!)

*I wear shoes.  Yes, I wear shoes.  It makes me think that I am going to work, and am therefore more productive.  Sometimes I’m snuggled up in a blanket at 1 a.m. with shoes on.  It’s a tough job, people.  The struggle is real.

*Hoods and scarves.  I cocoon my whole head up so that only my eyes can peek out.  I like to think that it keeps the creative juices warm and toasty and traps them so they can only escape through my chubby little fingers.

*Candy…love a good sugar buzz

*Caffeine…nothing helps out that sugar buzz like a little eyeball-popping caffeine.  Lately, I’ve just taken to drinking a double shot of espresso.  No latte, no cappuccino, no americano….just gimme the good stuff.  It helps my fingers type faster and with much less precision.

*Yellow legal pads, post it notes, and my favorite rollerball pens.  Sometimes, simply shopping for these items and never opening the packages is helpful in writing….it encourages that intention to write something important.

*Cooking something in the crock pot.  This one is huge.  As a mother and wife and general do-everything-in-the-household type of person…it really helps me focus when I know that dinner/lunch/whatever is cooking itself.  Multi-tasking at its finest!!

*sometimes I venture into Twisted Sister radio on Pandora too…for a little energy boost.

 

Writing is hard


Holy shit.  Writing is hard.

Blogging is easy.

Writing…like real, honest to goodness writing, is super fucking tough.  You know it, I know it, every non-writer and writer out there knows it.  We read and dissect and criticize, but we all know it is really fucking difficult to have an idea in your head and to flesh it out onto paper with words that make it come alive in another person’s head.

It’s like eating a spoonful of alphabet soup and not being able to make any of the random letters make any sense…because you realize you can’t even read!!

…you know, I can’t think of any more clever phrases that writing is like…because I’ve spent the last 7 hours thinking that I made some headway on my project.  When in reality, I have about 3 paragraphs.  3 pretty decent, descriptive paragraphs, but 3 paragraphs nonetheless.

What’s the last thing that you wrote that made you excited to write but the creative process kept slowing you down??

Colder than a witch’s tit?


It was quite frigid outside today…colder than a witch’s tit, some might say.  Where do you suppose that phrase originated, anyway?  If any of you know, please enlighten me.  Please.

I would like to add that my mother used that phrase from time to time.  Hers was different.  Hers goes, ‘Colder than a witch’s tit while doing  push ups in the snow in a brass bra.’  Picture that for a moment.

I, personally, give that crazy witch credit for getting her ass out there.  I give her credit for busting out a workout despite the daunting temperatures.  Pun intended (busted out…get it? bust. Ha!)  Fitness is important.  You need arm strength to stir that giant wooden spoon in the cauldron everyday.  And she obviously needs titty support from something stronger than a regular old sports bra.  She must be busty.  I can’t help but picture a crusty green witch with scrawny little arms and giant brass covered boobs dipping her boobs in the snow piles over and over.  She wears a red, white, and blue sweatband on her forehead, under her pointy, stereotypical black witch hat.  With each upward push she exclaims, ‘Curses!!! Curses!!!’

This witch has dedication and I commend her.  All I want to do when it’s colder than her icy tit is tuck my feet under the dog.

 

I’m sorry I’m posting your license plate online…


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Yes, I know it probably isn’t very cool to take a picture of someone’s license plate and post it on the internet for all to see….however, a plate like this is just begging for attention!  I was so intrigued by who might create such a clever personalized plate.

I mean, it’s D’Shizzit, right?  Maybe it’s Snoop-D-O-double G!

Or perhaps the driver Dishes it?  Like a lunchlady…or like a prosecuting attorney?

Maybe it’s about a thug robbing jewelry?  ‘Dis Heist!

I could’ve interpreted it all wrong….it could simply be a creative way of spelling Diseased.  That’s a shame.


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This is how you make a home-made band-aid.  Tear off a little piece of paper towel and hold it over the tiny little knife wound on your pinky…the one you got after you accidentally grazed the knife as it laid there, innocently.  The cut that shouldn’t have happened.  The cut that now leaves an annoying little flap of skin too deep to rip off…but perfect to get caught on sweaters once it has crusted over a bit.   Then fumble around for some scotch tape.

Try to hold the paper towel on your finger and also retrieve enough pieces of tape to cover all of the paper towel.  Despite the awkward finger fumbling of the sticky substance, you must succeed.  We have to cover it all because there is still celery to chop and carrots to peel for this fucking delicious pot roast…and the dreaded tear inducing onions….and you sure don’t want any onion juices seeping into that fresh little cut.  You just started!! You can’t back out now!

Of course, this while process could have been avoided had you just bought the damn $3 Frozen movie themed bandages…the ones that aren’t sticky and are too small for an adult sized wound.  They’re more like decorative stickers.  And why doesn’t Target deliver??

Loving these shriveled pumpkins


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This guy isn’t ready to say goodbye quite yet. He’s hanging in there…looking more and more awesome and more and more like an old, one-eyed, grouchy woman every day.

Every day, I come home and look at him and think ‘maybe it’s time to clean up the Halloween decorations and pumpkins,’ but every day he/she gazes up at me and my laziness wins.  It wins a lot. 

It’s only been like 10 days since Halloween.  People leave Christmas decorations up until at least February.  They do, I’ve seen it with my own eyes.  And the stores put out holiday decorations over 60 days in advance!!

I think I’m allowed to keep this wonderful, shrivelly relic a few days longer.  The big fuzzy spiders too.  They’re good friends now. 

Until this forecasted polar vortex whooshes down on us again… then my grumpy pumpkin friend, left out in the cold, is probably going to slash my tires and put a potato in my tailpipe. 

A tripod of gastrointestinal distress!


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I’m not sure why, but the dreaded gas is back.  Without hesitation and like clockwork, it bubbles up and makes its appearance around dinnertime.  It’s impossible to hide.  It’s impossible to mask…or to hold in.  Yikes.

Perhaps it was the oatmeal or the latte or the Thai curry soup…most likely a deadly combination of all three.  A tripod of gastrointestinal distress!

Whatever the cause, it makes me giggle.  Obviously, I grow more concerned the more it ceases to dissipate…yet it makes me giggle like an immature 10-year-old boy making fart noises in his armpit.  It makes me laugh because it is so dang putrid.  Sometimes it resembles cheesy overcooked brussel sprouts while other times it has a distinct peanutty odor.  I realize that this is very open of me to share with you.  I apologize.

At times, I fart with every step I take.  It’s hilarious.

I run-fart up the stairs or do a long fart as I slide on stocking feet across the kitchen floor.  It makes me picture being in this trampoline park and farting at every bounce.  I giggle to myself as I imagine bouncing across the room, away from the green fog, leaving it bouncing in the air for everyone to behold.  I would try to drop a little bomb on each springy surface.  I don’t even think I could hold it in if I tried.  I would bounce up and out the door before they can even sniff me out…I disappear out the door, leaving an invisible gas path behind me.  It’s not a crime to fart.  It’s not.  Even the bloodhounds wouldn’t want to find me!  Poor dogs.

On the bright side, if I had a stalker…I wouldn’t have a stalker anymore.

Zombie bacon?


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Is it made out of people?  That’s what zombies eat, right? People?? Brains??

Strawberry vanilla?  It looks kind of delicious though….like a sour patch kid.  Sour kid’s brains prepackaged for all your zombie needs.  Yum….

Progressive zombies of the future will protest against gmo zombie bacon and overly processed brains.  They will strive to only ingest organic human brains with the highest amount of omega-3’s.  They’ll be juicing us to ingest the maximum amount of micronutrients in our delicious flesh. 

Juicing us.  Morbid. 

Battle wound


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I fought the potatoes…and the potatoes won.  This little burn wound is about a week old.  It looks much more tame than it did initially.

Why do they make the handles on big pots so small and awkward?  Why do I think that I’m stealth enough to get away unscathed?   And why is everything in the kitchen sharp or scalding hot or ice cream or butter?  It’s such a dangerous place to be.