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The IRS rebate check hit my mailbox today. My return had my old PO box on it so I mailed them a change of address. Did they manage to get the correct address on my check? NO. Bastards. Did they send the check to my old PO Box? NO. Bitches. Whoever got my change of address transposed the numbers when entering it into their system. Morons. Grrr.

Since I was flush, I ordered a white pizza. And boneless hot wings. The wings were a little warm so I drank a few bottles of water with dinner. I’m full now. Thanks Dubya.

There’s too much emotion out here in this corner of the Blogosphere. I’m swimming in the stuff. I have a couple of things to say and they are prolly not things that will gain me any fans. Yeah, I don’t like lying or cheating. Yes, there are people I like who have cheated and lied. Usually, they didn’t lie or cheat on me. Well, actually, no one’s ever cheated on me. Yes, if I don’t have first hand knowledge, proof positive of something, I don’t like to rush to judgment. If the reasons for why something happened are not readily available, I don’t like to assume. I probably should have been a lawyer. I often have a very logical mind. I also have been accused of being a cold blooded, cold hearted bitch.

What are you going to believe? What you see and hear of me on this blog and the other sites I go to on a daily basis? What my kid says about me on her blog? What my sister would tell you if you met her? (She’s the one who’s repeatedly tarred me with the cold bitch label.) What do you believe about me? What do you KNOW?

Are you disappointed in me now that you know my sister believes those things about me? If I make a mistake, if I’m confused and upset and I make poor choices in my life and blog about them here, will you tell the internet that you’re disappointed in me, that I’m a liar or not what I presented myself to you as? Does my whole blogging “reputation” come down your assumptions about who I am on the inside, as misguided as that may be?

I’m not taking a stance on either side of the fence in the drama that happened. It’s a horrible tragedy, and neither of the extremes in stance that I have heard appeal to me. My sense is that the truth lies somewhere in the middle and no one but the participants really knows the whole truth.

However, seeing and hearing all the opinions about this, does raise some questions with me. I find myself looking over my shoulder, wondering what fucked up thing about me will be the thing that turns first one person, and then many others who listen to that person and allow those opinions to color them, against me. Because truthfully, I’m not pristine. I would never claim to be nor present myself in that manner. I’m a hugely flawed person, from my emotions, to my motivations, to my heart, and my soul. Which one of those flaws will one day disappoint you?

Devil’s advocate is a role I can never seem to shake. I always have to ask those questions and look at the other side. I’m eternally optimistic and practical at the same time. I have a scientist’s love of facts and digging for them. I have the psychologist’s yearning to delve into the psyches of others and understand their motivations. I like people who are real. Or are at least as real as I can determine them to be based on the information I have to work with.

I was really gonna do a Thursday Thirteen about 12 giraffe photos in my My Pictures folder. I guess my thoughts just took over and wrote this though. I don’t want to be judged by all of you, yet I know that every word I type, whether it’s funny or reveals my heart, are words that you will all judge… even if you say you won’t. I’m a big enough girl to accept that people will judge me. I learned long ago that is just another part of human nature and to rail against it is to isolate myself from the world.

So, instead, here are my thoughts for you to see, to judge, to like, to dislike, to do with what you will. I’ll be back tomorrow, whether all of you stop by or not. I’ve been through too many brouhahas and other shit in this life to let people’s feelings about me stop me from doing something I like doing. After all, you’re entitled to your feelings and reactions… and so am I.

Maybe next week I’ll do the 12 giraffe photos. You might want to stop by and see them. One of them is giraffe sex. I’m not quite sure how I found that photo. It was completely by accident, I swear. And it’s funny. Well, really what’s funny is the way Shinygal laughs at it. Yeah. I think I will post the giraffe pics next Thursday. I hope you come by to see them.

BTW… here’s the pic of me at the company picnic that Motley took with her Nikon. No makeup. All grey haired, and age spotted, with crow’s feet and bags under the eyes. WYSIWYG. If you’re not afraid of all that reality click on the photo and look at the larger version. Maybe if you look real close… you’ll see into my soul.

I’m beyond pissed off at someone who is staying in my house at the moment. I cannot do anything right now, I am so pissed off. I cannot go off on this person either. He has a heart condition, and he’s a bonehead. He’s been a bonehead most of my adult life. Saying something will get me absolutely nowhere. And I’ll feel guilty later if I yell at him. I mean, his kids don’t do jack for him. I guess I feel a little resentful because I supported him for a few years. A few years when I didn’t have the money to. I lost everything I owned because I was supporting more people than I could afford to.

He’s here “visiting”. That really means he has nowhere to go and no money until his Social Security check hits the bank Monday. I was hoping that then he would go back to Seattle, but apparently, he’s not quite ready to go yet. It might be another couple of weeks… I hope I survive that long.

For the 2 weeks he’s been here I’ve barely turned on my TV because he has to have the TV on in the living room. I can’t afford an inflated electricity bill so I leave my TV off. He has all kinds of lights on because his vision is bad. He has poor marksmanship in the bathroom. He cooks and leaves food out all day and night. All of which wouldn’t be so bad if he would just CLEAN UP AFTER HIMSELF!

I’m so angry right now, I’m crying. My brand new manicure is messed up from cleaning the stove because he couldn’t clean up from the stuff he cooked yesterday and the day before. And then he roasted a chicken and baked on all the crap he spilled on the stove yesterday.

Tomorrow, I’m going to the company picnic… ALONE. That’s right. I’m not taking my brother. I’m not taking anyone. I am NOT good company right now. And the worst thing of all… this stupid shit makes me feel very alone. I put a good face on it for those around me and for those I’m talking to on IM, but the fact of the matter is… I am alone and I FEEL alone.

This is why I need my characters, and why I’ve been rather irritated that I couldn’t write them. They are never too busy playing online or going to the mall to have time for me. It’s just imaginary time… but still, they never leave me alone. I can always turn to them and lose myself in them. I don’t feel inferior with them. I don’t feel like a wallflower or the unpopular girl or the bitch with them. They hear me. They listen to me. Okay, maybe the guys flirt with me too. HEH. I mean, if they don’t, who will?

Maybe it’s a horrible selfish whiny ass woe is me pack of bullshit fed by where I work, but a lot of the time, I wonder how long anyone would miss me if I died. And ya know, even though it is a stupid whiny feeling sorry for myself thing, I think I’m entitled to a few of those a year, wouldn’t you think? I’m responsible the rest of the time after all.

Sheesh. I’m already regretting what I’ve ranted. I guess, it’s not just the alone. I think… I think I’m lonely too. I can’t remember the last time I really felt lonely. I talk on IM and in email and on boards and to people at work… all the time. But for some reason, I think I feel lonely. It’s kinda weird. I haven’t had this feeling in a very long time. I’m no Pollyanna, but I always spring back from every bad mood I have. I guess I will from this one too. It’s just that I can’t remember the last time I felt like one of those movie tricks where someone is standing still and there is all kinds of activity that goes on around them in a blur because they filmed it in slow motion. All these conversations going on around me, on Twitter, in IM, email, boards, in the office, in my house… and I’m just not feeling connected. Weird.

I’m going to bed. Maybe my characters will talk to me. Motley was nice to me on the phone just now. She’s gonna help me get my hair really straight tomorrow morning for the picnic. That’s nice of her. Although… she still needs to take out the trash. HEH.

Wishing you a non-lonely Sunday!

Everything irks me. I’m in one of those prickly kinda moods where nothing satisfies. I look at my template and I seethe. I think about all the stuff I wanna tweak in Photoshop because I need to create something “perfect”. I read other blogs and think, why aren’t I this funny or deep? I stand at the refrigerator door, stomach growling like a grizzly bear, contemplating everything that is inside the big white box… and close the door. Nothing in there appeals. Which is fucking bizarre because for one, I have BACON. For another, I buy what I like when I order groceries. I don’t have anyone else to please at the moment when I’m buying food.

This phenomena inside me occurs every now and again. Usually, I cannot write when I’m in this mood. What I end up doing is working on the Bar character pages. Or I make something else new. I’m not sure I understand why I feel the need to build/create when I’m in a dissatisfied state. I mean, the writing is building and creating too. Why can’t I do it when I’m feeling persnickety?

I’ve got a ton of projects I’m juggling and I’m eager to do them all. Why is it that I’m more interested in breakfast at Johnny Reb’s? And not for the food either because at the moment, nothing appeals even though my stomach is protesting. Maybe I just want out of the house. But if that is the case, why am I feeling like I don’t wanna go get the mani/pedi that I have to get because the company picnic is tomorrow? (Cannot show up in flip flops without a fresh pedi. God forbid that I give someone fresh fodder to gossip about me!) I have to go to the bank, but I don’t wanna. I need to watch my races at the sim because I have a 2 year old filly who is so evenly matched against another filly that the race should be incredibly exciting. But I’m dragging my heels about clicking the link.

I don’t think I’m unhappy per se. Dissatisfied with some things, certainly. Depressed about money, always. But what the hell do those things have to do with me feeling bitchy and nitpicky and just… irritated? And before one of you raises the female banner let me tell you point blank that it is NOT PMS. I do not suffer from it. I have never in my life had excess estrogen. I am missing internal girly parts and because of that I have never had PMS. Menopause is going to be a piece of cake for me because I won’t need hormone replacement, I’m told by my doctor. I’ve never had much of it to begin with.

I guess I just have to be a crank ass every now and again. A Scrooge, if you will. Irritated. Pissy. Cantankerous. Bitchy. Whiny. Persnickety. Fussy. Disgruntled. That’s it. I’m a fucking malcontent. A nitpicky malcontent. Luckily, the mood won’t last. Something will perk me up like boobs in a water bra. This mood never lasts. If it did, I might need to shoot myself. Or change my blog template daily.

Have a great non-nitpicky Saturday, people of the Blogosphere!

Yanno, I took Karl’s words to heart and I went back to my feed reader. Not just because Karl is the voice of sensibility on this issue, but because I’m really not up to clicking 60 freaking links all the time. Anyway, I’m finding that going back to the reader is annoying me. Well, really several things are annoying me. First of all, Feed Demon sucks at updating. I see a bunch of twats on Twitter with updates and I eagerly open Feed Demon. Nothing. I click on the manual refresh. Nothing. Two hours later, I see Karl’s newest post appear on Feed Demon… long after I’ve gone straight to Secondhand Tryptophan outside the reader. I check Newsgator too, which is synced with Feed Demon. Same thing. Lagging SOBs.

The other thing that gets me with using a feed reader isn’t really about the feed reader. It’s about the sites. Karl went into that stuff about feeds and RSS and feedburners. My annoyances are more specific. The big one is comments. Dave2 and Avitable do comments perfectly. Although, Avitable’s “Subscribe to the comments of this muthafucka” isn’t how everyone should offer this service, it IS the right thing to do. Dave2 has a link on his left sidebar for a comments feed. What’s so special about Dave and Adam, you ask (other than the obvious)? Their links are not comments for a specific post. It’s comments for ALL posts. ME LIKEY. This is so freaking easy a blog baby like me can do it!

Really the last thing that annoys me are all the authors out there who want you to READ them, but don’t supply you with a feed link. This is bad marketing. Some of us read A LOT OF BLOGS. A feed reader is a must when you get over a certain number. Everyone should offer a feed link. But most especially, authors should! I can’t believe how many author blogs and sites I’ve seen in the past 5 months who do not have feed or comment links. I WANT TO READ WHAT YOU HAVE TO SAY! HELP ME HERE! I also wanna shoot off emails to all of them, telling them I’ll fix it for them! I would read many more author blogs, and read more frequently, if they all had links to their feeds and comments. It’s so sad that they are missing out on this awesome marketing tool. So those of you without those links, please think about putting them on your blog. I promise to read you more often if you do.

Alright, my little rant is done but the Feed Me part isn’t over with yet. You see, I listened to the New Improved Jester Show on Talk Shoe last night. I wasn’t crazy about the fancy pro app with the chat bubbles. Too busy for me. I went back to the web client and was quite happy. So happy, in fact, that I had the weirdest, most vivid dream about the show and the chat people and a couple of my friends. Here’s how it went:

Jester’s show turned into this big party in a huge mansion. Karl was giving out Secondhand Tryptophan buttons and explaining WJP. Jester was laughing a lot and UMB was making margys and threatening to run naked through the house. Everyone was telling him that wasn’t a threat at all. They wanted to see that! My friend Jen was there handing out chocolate pudding cups. Every time he got one, Dave would go back to the end of the line. (No surprise there!) He must have been worried though because he said he hoped he wasn’t allergic to chocolate pudding. He wasn’t sure he could stab himself with the epi pen…

My friend Greg, who is sorta seeing my friend Jen, showed up at the party then. He said margys were pussy drinks, to which Hilly told him, “Sweet sweet pussy…” In the kitchen, someone had set out a big pan of enchiladas which Greg liked. He told Jen to drink the margys and he’d eat the enchiladas. Dave told Greg, “No pudding for you!” and he took all the pudding cups from Jen. Greg ignored him and asked about the naked gay guy running around. That’s when I noticed UMB had decided he didn’t like his clothes anymore. Jen then told Greg that at least it wasn’t Darrie (who is 6′10″) from Zanctuary running around naked.

Howard was wondering if someone had a camera on UMB. Hellohahanarf was trying to explain to Othurme that she really did have TWO breasts. He didn’t seem to believe her because he kept asking for proof. Jester was so busy with a photo from TSMOregon that he missed UMB’s flashing. He was also praising Talk Shoe and trying to convert Karl and Hilly over to the “light side”. Someone said Mr. Drunkulous was on the phone. Someone was yelling about twats. Someone else was complaining about static and a hush fell over the room when a booming godlike voice said, “Macs are for sissies.” I thought Dave and Jester were going to have an apoplexy, but then Hilly said she found the tiara and I woke up.

I think I’ve been listening to too many Blog Talk Radio shows while talking to Jen in YIM. Have a freaky frakin Friday… TWKS!

Motley’s birthday is today. She is nineteen. If you go to her blog, you can see her boobs. Happy birthday, baby!

Since it’s Friday and I haven’t pimped anything in a long time, I decided I would pimp my friend Jen because she’s cool, and her rack is hot, and she’s single. So welcome to Big Pimpin’ Friday, Indiana style!

My friend Jen writes at the Bar. That’s where I met her. She’s a pretty cool lady. Very smart. Great with a snarky comeback. She lives and works in the Indianapolis area. She has a nice job, owns her own home, and has a dog… a boxer, not some pansy ass dog. There are things about Jen that no man can pass on, unless he’s gay. I mean, really, who can remain blase in the face of cheerleaders like these?

Yeah, she’s stacked pretty good. But the best part isn’t the fact that she’s got a rack that will render you mindless with lust. She’s very amusing. She makes me laugh all the time which means she ain’t boring. I, personally, do not feel that the creator of Alaric Kohl could ever be boring. However, Jen has what, to me, is a flaw. You men will not think this is a flaw. You will think she is a goddess. She likes basketball. *cringe*

Now, I played basketball in junior high and high school, but I never liked watching it. I was always more of a horse racing, auto racing, football kind of girl. Jen went to the Big Ten Tournament. On purpose. She took with her, a male friend of mine from the horse racing sim who is a Wisconsin fan. She spent four whole days living basketball, with only a short time out on Friday for her grandma’s funeral. She even turned on Sports Center when she got home! Now, that is a dedicated b-ball fan, my friends.

So now that you know that she’s into basketball, has a great rack, is smarter than a whip and can wield one on your ass with skill if that is what you like, you’re wondering what the catch is right? I think the catch is that she’s single. Men are afraid of single successful women these days. But I just don’t understand that. Someone needs to help me out here.

This woman has gone on a number of dates since I’ve known her. Men just fade away on her. They peter out and drift off like snowflakes in a high wind. Tell me what the hell this woman is missing? I mean, Hello! I don’t see anything wrong with this picture. If she sent you a pic like one of those up there, I know damn good and well, that you bloggers would have been twatting your fingers off about getting a boob shot. Wouldn’t you?

So, fill my comments with some luv, people. I wanna know why you think single, successful women with big boobs can’t find decent men. Are they all gay? Are they all chickenshit? Do they all want skinny, underfed, designer clothes wearing, air headed, calender girls? What is going on in the world today that a cute woman with a rack can’t find a relationship except with her vibrator?

Jen’s gonna kill me for pimpin’ her, but you know what? If someone can educate me regarding her - and other successful women in their 30’s - lack of male attention, then it will be worth it. Oh, and… *whispers in an aside* if you wanna talk to Jen, send me a twat or an email or YIM. I’ll set you up with her YIM. HEH. I’m just evil, aren’t I? But trust me on this, Jen sizzles. She is soooo not a prude! Okay, I better shut up now before I give her enough fuel to roast me with if she finds out I posted this. Shhhh. Don’t tell on me. She doesn’t read this blog.

Oh, yeah. She gives good presents too!

Now that my pimpin’ is done, I’m outtie. Have a great Friday, people! MUAH!

I gotta talk about the Bar today. The reason for this is that I’m looking for inspiration. Or motivation. Not sure which. It’s funny how those two things can become interchangeable. And actually, I think my problem is distraction, not inspiration or motivation. Too many “shun” words for a Saturday morning, I think. My head’s already buzzing and I haven’t even had a glass of water yet.

Distraction is in the form of the lovely pre-paid card that I use on the internet. It’s not attached to my bank accounts so I feel a lot better about using it online. I went to albertsons.com last night and did my grocery shopping for the next two weeks. $97 later, I’m ready to check out. Card declined. WHAT? You fuckers, it’s freaking PAYDAY. No way is my card declined. Then I think, shit… new girl doing payroll. She coulda effed up anything. I call the automated system. “Account balance $513.76. There are no pending deposits or transactions at this time.”

Now, I’m really going WTF? I try to get a live person. Instead, I get the “If you need to speak to a live customer service representative, please call back between our normal business hours of 9 am to 5 pm Pacific time, Monday thru Friday.” I’m really stewing now. All the stuff I planned to do this weekend has now been fucked up. For some reason, even though there is plenty of money on the card, whatever I try to do gives back a “declined”. Grrrrr.

I had to call the cable company and tell them I will WALK a payment in. The girl at Time Warner was very helpful and sympathetic. She said if I didn’t really feel like walking the payment in, she would just give me an extension so I could call in the payment once the card issue was resolved. Why couldn’t the card company be this easy and assessable? All the bills were pretty accommodating. Apparently, this is a common card problem so all the companies I was going to pay were willing to wait a few days for payment until the situation was cleared up. That was great! Except for my groceries.

I’m sitting here with my stomach growling and my brain set on Grrrr because I can’t get my groceries delivered. I have food. I bought $176 bucks worth 2 weeks ago and then ate out most of last week. My cupboards are pretty full. It’s the principle though. I give you my freaking money and pay 50 cents a transaction PLUS $5 a month to use this card online. The least they could do is let me use it when there’s clearly a bunch of money on it!

Okay, enough about my distract-SHUN. On to my motiva-SHUN. I wanna write. I’m trying to put myself into writing mode because I do have stuff I need - want - to crank out. However, I think the distraction has affected my motivation. My annoyance level is high and my mind isn’t on Griffin the way it should be when I’m about to start a post about him getting ready to attend his newfound sister’s wedding. So maybe my motivation isn’t quite where it should be yet. If I write Griffin now, will he be all pissy and angry? Will that be a waste of my writing time if I have to edit the whole freaking thing to change how he sounds?

This brings me to inspira-SHUN. Griffin is a complex character. He has a lot of twisted things happening in his life. He’s supposed to be on edge and nervous, faced with a situation where he clearly wants to be accepted, but he’s feeling apprehensive and cautious because his newfound brother thinks he’s a monster. He’s going to need some hand holding to make it through this event, so he’s looking to his best friend since childhood to attend with him. He’s also going to wonder what his new family will think if he brings a man to the wedding. Of course, he knows that there is a simple explanation for why he’s bringing Roman. Roman is not only his best friend, he’s his business partner. When Griffin went to Paris to meet his long lost family, Roman accompanied him. Griffin does know other people in Paris - females - but his new family doesn’t know that. They do know he arrived with his business partner so maybe they won’t question the fact that he’s shown up with a man at an event where everyone has a date.

Hmmn. I’m starting to feel the pull. The annoyance is receding and my characters are calling me. if I make myself some food will I lose the little bit of headway I’ve made toward recapturing my groove? Or will the growling and pain in my empty gut be yet another distract-SHUN?

BANG! CRASH! THUMP! I think the decision was just made for me. I’m now looking at two very guilty orange faces. Something has gone down in the living room. The Feral Brothers are looking at me like they are in trouble. If I haul my ass up to check it out, I might as well make breakfast. So, I’m off to clear away the disaster - or call Motley to - and make some chow. Hopefully, when I return to this computer the twats won’t keep me from getting into Griffin’s head and turning out his post about his sister’s wedding.

Wish me luck.