Happy New -4th of July-ish- Year!

HAPPY NEW YEA-Wait. Fourth of July? Grab your swim trunks, not your parkas! Ok, so I’m a bit behind the ball drop of New Year’s Day past; But, something just hit me. The start of MY year can start whenever the hell I want! #mindblown #youjelly

IMG_8574I used to love summers. Not that I hate them now: The heat. Blech. The people. Nope. The BBQ’s. Well, maybe love that. The beach. Definitely that. I do love to surf. Which I haven’t had a chance to do since moving back to California from Houston; But, it’s on my to-do list. Would explain the crankiness… *crawls through urban jungle* Must… get… back… to … nature… I stray from the point. Not so shocking… Anyway, as I get older, I find I’m loving the comfort of the indoors more and the productivity hamster wheel even less. I kid. Lies. I need to go outside! Stop it. Let me out! Ugh. At least I FEEL like I’m following my inner path -do you?- to my outer journey on this small planet. Bah. Still fibbing about the enjoyment here. *insert “fake it til you make it” grin here* While I’ve always lived my life, my way, even I get annoyed when things go wrong. Perfectionist problems.

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HAPPY NEW, 4TH… NEW JULY, YEAR -oh forget it…

Even though the 1st of the year has since fallen behind us -yeah, six months ago genius- I am marking this Independence Day, my very own top of the year. Nobody does that. Maybe not, but I’m going to. It makes sense, really.  Most of my work and nonsense starts to rev up in the fall and winter. Grabbing flip flops. HAPPY NEW YEAR/4TH OF JULY! That doesn’t sound right. HAPPY, NEW 4TH OF JULY, YEAR… Oh geesh. We’ll figure out the title of this shit after the celebrations. Don’t forget the bikini. Nobody wants to see a naked bottom. Get exited! There’s sand and volleyball waiting for me to abominate! Volleyball? I don’t know. I was pretty good on the 5th grade volleyball team at St. Thomas. I was going with that, for my confidence booster. *Wink.

The Toss Your Cookies Event

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What the hell…

Tune in for the “Blow Your Lunch” 2-hour series on the Nat Geo channel! No such show exists. Stop it. Didn’t you know? It’s up-chuck month. It started last week and now we here. Hold on, one more… Grab your wristbands and your ribbons; get your happy ass to the parade!  And NOW, we focus. At the end of last week, I caught some weird bug that was apparently going around. I got sick. My sister got sick. My friend got sick. Next thing I know, everyone is sick. At first, I started to question whether I eaten something bad and realized that… shit, I guess I’m not invincible. Ugh. Fine.  Three cheers for the tummy bug! Hip, Hip, Hooray! Hip, Hip-Hold off. I don’t have the energy for these shenanigans… 

Fast forward to Monday. Went out to eat. I decided to try something healthier than the mass distributed, hormone-injected beef. Opting for “le veggiee’ patteee.” Uh oh. As you already know, as with everything else, I’m allergic to life and pretty much whatever goes with that. This is going to be bad. Halfway through said beef alternative, I felt really ill. Criminy, really bad. But I kept eating it anyway. Stupid ass. Eh, I figured it was in my head. Probably wasn’t. But I made a healthy choice dammit. Let me be. However, the onset nausea didn’t subside; In fact, only got worse. Shocker. Bring on the bad. Blast you inner thought. This is all your fault. Is it… Is it really? Hush. Anyway, I excuse myself to the bathroom to engage in, um, not so lovely…Er,  table conversation-type, physically disgusting, uhhh, activity…just say vomit. Geez. Ok, I vomitted. Fine! I puked all over the damn place! Happy?! I admit it. Allergic reaction fuckery. Spewed on everything! Ew. Well, everything BUT the crapper. Odd result. But yeah, that’s pretty bad. I warned you. You’re mind’s eye feeling violated yet?

I see you… fuzzy spores of death. I see you.

I see you… fuzzy spores of death. I see you.

Imprinted with the visual of, ME, chucking black bean veggie patty all over the walls and the tile floor…and the toilet stall… and my fucking sandal. You’re now armed and ready for the rest of how the evening went. Inspiring much? This was nothing like the “Sick Week-A-Poloosa Tour” mentioned prior. Minor stomachache comparably. Here’s the thing about stupid veggie patties. Three of the major brands, that I am aware of -and now a fourth- use an ingestible mold. This add color, texture and allows these packing plants that make them, to aid in forming them and keeping them stuck together. Gross. I know. Completely disgusting. And basically worse to eat than just real food. Regardless, I found this out the hard way a few years ago when I was sick to the point of the bright green bile that appeared -as the barf substance of last resort- since there was nothing left to hurl out of my system. Awesome. You’re telling me. I am allergic to multiple kinds of mold. You’re allergic to everything. Yes, might as well be; But, you know what, hush. Stop interrupting. Pay attention. While most of us can even accidentally ingest the mold on a piece a bread and nothing will happen to you… I, on the other hand, will fall ill. Heave. And be down for a couple days. Lucky me! I’m part of the 5% of the American population that is allergic to fuzzy spores of death. See? I am special! Pop the champagne! Take me out to pasture, cowboy, this nag is useless. That’s not nice. You don’t just knock off a broad for being allergic to ALL crappery. And furry. You just give her stuff she can’t eat. Like mold. Or lettuce. Or feed her a bee. Wait, back up a second… Can the cowboy be shirtless? With a set of six-pack abs? No? Come on… It will be my dying wish. Screw you mold attackers! Dying wish: Sexy cowboy with abs.

Picture Perfect Meltdown

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Bring it on, iPhoto photo album… Bring it on.

What started as a “hey, let’s add stuff to my website this morning…” Has basically turned into all out war with my iPhoto photo album. If I have to look at one more “untitled event,” I might scream. When iphoto downloads new photos from my phone it just automatically puts the pics into new, stupid ass, “untitled events.” Who’s making all that noise? Oh, it’s me, screaming. Nice. Focus. If you think these two items are unrelated… You’d be mistaken. Not about the banchee shrieks, the website and the photo album. Since, reluctingly moving  from a godaddy.com hosting site to a site hosted by worpress.com, I’ve completely had to redo the pages. This is an obvious action to those who visit my website often; or even once in a while. A whole other story I’d like to ramble on about; But I’ll spare you that rant. I’m just reiterating the backstory for those who are new here. Hi newbies! And welcome. Back to the point… I hate doing it. #blah I won’t pay someone to do it. #self-starterproblems And it’s the most mind-numbing, time-sucking tedious task on the planet. #screwyoutimesuckingtask

Where the hell did this come from? Oh, “untitled events” Sucker. Photo Creation: Eddie from itsmyurls.com

So, there I am, looking at the widget choices on my (behind the scenes) appearance page and I’m wanting to add a youtube widget-to display one, just one, most recently posted video… Can’t find it. Bah. Fine. So I move onto adding some sort of rolodex. A rotating carousel of album covers-with which to display where my songs have been-you know out there in the world of music. Such a small request. Or so I thought. First of all, no rolodex. No carousel. Nothing to spin said merry-go-round of melodies. OK… I set that aside for the moment because I realize, as I’ve moved most of the pics I want to use here on my computer’s desktop, I notice that I’m missing a few. And so begins my scavenger hunt. Next thing I know, I’ve spent over six hours searching, deleting, and labeling pics and folders inside my damn iPhoto photo album. You gotta be kidding me. And you want to know what caught my attention that I’d been sitting there that long? I felt like I was going to die from starvation. I forgot to fucking eat. Yeah, that just happen. On the plus side, forgetting to gobble up some sustenance would aid in the weight loss chapter of my current daily routine. However, starvation is never good for those around me. I’d be a terrible anorexic. I’m mean. And I’m hungry. Too bad 911 doesn’t have a call button for a burger. 911? Yes. I’m dying of malnourishment. Could you send me a double-double from In-N-Out?

Six fucking hours. SIX! And you think I would’ve made progress? You’d be wrong. I stumbled upon the iphoto photo album’s trash can. Approximately 2,500 items in there. Dumped it. Yay!And, curiously, I checked the total photo count, now in the album. Are you sitting down for this? Over 7,600 items. Close your mouth. I know… Who the hell has 7600 photos in their iphoto photo album. *sheepishly raises hand “I do.” Needless to say, I never did get around to finishing that stupid carousel on my webiste. Thank you, iPhoto. Splitting up each download of pics to random and subsequent, untitled events? Genius.