Hello! I’m asking you all to send all shredded paper and whatnot to my home because I am getting ready for a ticker tape parade to CELEBRATE THE GREATEST THING THAT IS GOING TO HAPPEN IN ABOUT A WEEK….yes, Dear Readers, for those of you who know me beyond this keyboard, you know that since January 27, 2009, I have opened my home to not one, not two, not three, BUT FOUR FAMILY MEMBERS and all their stuff. What caused you to be such an angel, Lola, you ask? Well I don’t know, maybe one too many liquid diets. Anyhow, by the grace of God they are on their way out. The ink is soon to dry on the leases and then I and my too (yes too) cool kids will have our life back. I think I’m tearing. It’s been a long, long, long five months, but we did it! This morning, there was a little grumbling from one of the OTHERS about being ready to go and blah blah can’t take it no more, grumble, grumble, lawd help me, blah blah…well I say THANK YOU JESUS….THE LORD HAS HELPED US ALL! Readers, I do not praise loudly, nor do I march weekly into church, but I am firm in my beliefs, and I do believe that there is supreme reason for everything.
That is all the praise you will hear out of me this blog. Back to the confetti! Happy Happy Joy Joy Happy Happy Joy Joy! This week will be busy, as I try my best to get my home back in shape, although it will be hard to do it, since I’m going to be giddy and all stupidesque. I think I’m almost too giddy to complete this blog. Just so you know my typing is all jacked up. Whatever, man, right? RIGHT!? My Lovely is going to be on board in helping me get my home back to MY WAY. She is clearly the most organized person in the entire world; I am so blessed to have her. We have already drawn up how the apartment is going to be redecorated.
Initially, I could think about was getting things back to where they were, but these five months have given me reason to think about how things could be different. A whole new start, A WHOLE NEEEEW WORLD, A WHOLE NEW…I don’t know the rest of the words, but I’m sure somebody does. The Aim and Do Now (anyone remember that from school?) is to get things right, so that we can move on to pack for OUR FABULOUS FAMILY VACATION at the end of the month!! Can you stand all this excitement on a Tuesday? Please stay with me. You know that for every joyous moment in your life there are no less than four folk giving you the screw face, so Readers, send me your good vibes.
Of course I will miss all the weekends that I spent with My Lovely, and I will miss Wednesday nights, when we would use Lost to get lost within ourselves, but that is ok. It is a small sacrifice, for my smile to be back. It got to the point that my only genuine smile was at her house, to the point when I looked forward to being at work, so I would not have to be home. That was so wrong of me, I knew better. I will never again allow anyone to smite my joy; life is too short for that.
A month ago, I started thinking that after all this madness that my good deed quota would be complete, and my blessing meter would be overfilling, but now that I have had time to reconsider, I realize that it is not my personality to not do for others. I will still be the same old me, I don’t expect anything in return. I’m not changing. I tell you one thing though; this will be the LAST TIME I do anything of this gravity. You simply cannot just share your home. At the end of the day, home is where you go to release, to breath, just breath and once you lose that, what have you left?
I’m no martyr and I won’t put myself in that position anymore. Done, finito, bye bye birdie. I will keep you posted on How Lola Got Her Room(s) Back…..
Sing with me,
FIVE,
FIVE,
FIVE SHORT DAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAYYYYYYYYYYYS
FIVE,
FIVE,
FIVE SHORT DAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAYYYYYYYYYYYS
To the tune of the #@%way commercial for the $5 foot longs…you know the song.
You get me, that’s why I love you!
Lola
Tuesday, May 26, 2009
Friday, May 22, 2009
12th Tuesday
Dear Readers,
Killing you how this blog is so late, and it took me 20min to get the title out...sure enough I could not seem to spell out 12th. I know right? Well, good thing there are more ways than 1 (ha!) to spell 12th. Whew. How is everyone today? Everyone ready for the long weekend? Wonderful. I did not see my inbox overflowing with BBQ invites, but that's ok. I know how you all do. Just because my Lovely is so fortunate with her little oasis of a backyard, y'all are waiting for us to send you an invite-don't hold your breath. Sheesh.
By the way, in regard to me seldom posting on Tuesdays, my Lovely's work wife suggested that I rename my blog Anydamn Day of The Week w/Lola. I'm thinking she might be on to something. I defend that I don't force you to read on Tuesday, so don't police me to write on Tuesday.
Anyway, I don't have big plans for the weekend, but its all good. In my life a good weekend starts and ends with sleep. Seeing as there is only one entity in the world that can provide that for me, I take it when I get it, which is often. Ooooh yeah.
Every time I write a blog, I read the previous one, so that I can check to see if there was 1)something that I promised to follow up on, 2)something that I needn't repeat, or 3)some huge fabrication that I have to keep going. Kidding...so let's talk about how HORATIO HAD HIS CORNIEST SCENE EVER this week on CSI. I did not watch the whole episode, but it was the season finale, so if you are one of those uber sensitive spoiler folk, stop reading now. How selfish of you to expect the whole world to keep mum because you have yet had time to catch up to your DVR. I taste a little acid in my mouth, I don't know what's going on with me today. Damn.
Back to HORATIO...so some mobsteresque guy had a little rat poison in his Prison-O's, causing the JailDoc to send him speeding away in a MedVac to the nearest hospital which incidentally was across train tracks, can you hear the choo-choo of danger? There was a young Black (that's another giveaway) cop with poisoned bad guy in the MedVac (I made that term up, don't feel like writing out ambulance). So here comes 1-2 cars and a train and OH NO OH NO OH NO CRASH, FIRE, OH NO OH NO..the poisoned bad guy, now looking not too bad, walks away from the scene, but I think he shot the YBC first, or something, anyway the YBC was really bad off...and WORD FROM OUR SPONSORS...here comes Horatio..looking somberly down (notice, he is ALWAYS LOOKING DOWN, like he is looking for a still lite Newport to jack) at YBC who wheezes out to something to the effect of "I did my best, I tried, I have a little girl at home," wheeze, bleed, wheeze, bleed...Horatio, as CALM AS EVER, says something like, "I know, I know" and then I think tells YBC w/little girl at home "that everything would be alright", but we all know that is not the case. Just when the scene nearly hits heartbreak level, HORATIO LEANS DOWN AND KISSES YBC ON THE SWEATY BLOODY SHAKY FOREHEAD!!
WHAT!!
WHAT!!
WHAT!!
Someone get Gov. Patterson and quick! I have never seen something so cheesy. I mean this beats all Extreme Edition Home Makeover episodes. Immediately, My Lovely & I got on the phone to discuss. We don't Twitter. We were both truly exhausted by that low moment on CSI. Really Horatio, you were my favorite character for many reasons, but lately you are spiralling down. I'm sorry...even though Gary Sinise on CSI NY is a total knockoff, I can't ever see him pursing his lips to kiss any sweaty bloody shaky forehead. Damn. You really jumped the shark and went all out in a hail of wheezing. I watched a while, but I could not get over the beginning.
American Idol anyone? I don't watch, the only entire season I have ever watched is when Fantasia won. So I thought Adam Lambert was pretty damn amazing, but so HIGH DIVA. Wow. As far as the other guy Kris...? in my head I see Angel, but I know that's that emo magician daredevil guy..I was surprised that anyone toting a guitar could win AI. Don't all attack me at once, like I said I really don't watch, but I figure if I talked CSI, I might as well hit a another as seen on tv. I did watch Gossip Girl, One Tree Hill and Grey's. I talked about Grey's on Facebook, posting throughout the entire epi, so I'm not revisiting.
GG & OTH took really sweet lovey-dovey ways out, with GG ending with the crazy chick who used to be Buffy The Vampire Slayer's/Charmed/or some other supernatural girly show's little sister ominously asking to be Blair's roomie in college. OTH really let us believe that kooky-eyed Peyton was down for the count and Lucas was left being the single dad to an unnamed baby. Eureka! Peyton, Lucas and Sawyer (previously unnamed baby) rode off into the sunset apparently never to be seen again. Was I the only person who thought Baby Sawyer was at least a year old? WTH, they would have been better off with a Cabbage Patch Preemie. When they drove off, Toddler Sawyer was supposed to be about 8weeks if that much, homegirl was listening to her ipod and chewing Trident. Way to go OTH. Way to go.
In case anyone is wondering why I have not touched THE MOST AMAZING THING THAT HAPPENED AT THE GYM, is because I have not been regular enough to talk about it. I think I went last week, and if I did, I did not see anything worthy. I don't remember if I told you about YogaGirl...hmmm...one day I was at the gym, trying to keep up with the Jones' on the No Joke, and there was one girl wearing yoga pants and effortlessly speeding through her workout. She was not sweating in the least, yet watching her nearly made me sweat. She was wearing dark purple yoga pants, which looked fabulous. For all the speeding, she didn't have a wedgie and the pants were not riding up. I guess she read my blog about appropriate gym underwear. I wondered to myself if she was actually into yoga, or if she was just wearing the pants. Don't mock me, this is how my mind works.
After my workout, I fakewalked to the weight area, yawned and rolled my eyes. That is the bulk of my weight training..I do the same ish each time. Walk, yawn, roll and head to the locker room. Lo and behold YogaGirl did not disappoint! As I headed to the locker, I saw her stretching near the mirrors and she...ok let me try to do it justice, she had her hands flat down in front of her and her legs extended out, she took a deep breath and then LIFTED HER LEGS YOGA PANTS AND ALL up and still extended, she looked like a human T. WOW. I thought to secretly stalk her. I could learn something, at the very least be truly amazed and inspired. I can't imagine you are reading, Yogagirl, but if you are, I am impressed, though not surprised, seeing how you WHIPPED the No Joke into shape.
Who can go to the gym with that kind of pressure?
You get me, that's why I love you.
Lola
Killing you how this blog is so late, and it took me 20min to get the title out...sure enough I could not seem to spell out 12th. I know right? Well, good thing there are more ways than 1 (ha!) to spell 12th. Whew. How is everyone today? Everyone ready for the long weekend? Wonderful. I did not see my inbox overflowing with BBQ invites, but that's ok. I know how you all do. Just because my Lovely is so fortunate with her little oasis of a backyard, y'all are waiting for us to send you an invite-don't hold your breath. Sheesh.
By the way, in regard to me seldom posting on Tuesdays, my Lovely's work wife suggested that I rename my blog Anydamn Day of The Week w/Lola. I'm thinking she might be on to something. I defend that I don't force you to read on Tuesday, so don't police me to write on Tuesday.
Anyway, I don't have big plans for the weekend, but its all good. In my life a good weekend starts and ends with sleep. Seeing as there is only one entity in the world that can provide that for me, I take it when I get it, which is often. Ooooh yeah.
Every time I write a blog, I read the previous one, so that I can check to see if there was 1)something that I promised to follow up on, 2)something that I needn't repeat, or 3)some huge fabrication that I have to keep going. Kidding...so let's talk about how HORATIO HAD HIS CORNIEST SCENE EVER this week on CSI. I did not watch the whole episode, but it was the season finale, so if you are one of those uber sensitive spoiler folk, stop reading now. How selfish of you to expect the whole world to keep mum because you have yet had time to catch up to your DVR. I taste a little acid in my mouth, I don't know what's going on with me today. Damn.
Back to HORATIO...so some mobsteresque guy had a little rat poison in his Prison-O's, causing the JailDoc to send him speeding away in a MedVac to the nearest hospital which incidentally was across train tracks, can you hear the choo-choo of danger? There was a young Black (that's another giveaway) cop with poisoned bad guy in the MedVac (I made that term up, don't feel like writing out ambulance). So here comes 1-2 cars and a train and OH NO OH NO OH NO CRASH, FIRE, OH NO OH NO..the poisoned bad guy, now looking not too bad, walks away from the scene, but I think he shot the YBC first, or something, anyway the YBC was really bad off...and WORD FROM OUR SPONSORS...here comes Horatio..looking somberly down (notice, he is ALWAYS LOOKING DOWN, like he is looking for a still lite Newport to jack) at YBC who wheezes out to something to the effect of "I did my best, I tried, I have a little girl at home," wheeze, bleed, wheeze, bleed...Horatio, as CALM AS EVER, says something like, "I know, I know" and then I think tells YBC w/little girl at home "that everything would be alright", but we all know that is not the case. Just when the scene nearly hits heartbreak level, HORATIO LEANS DOWN AND KISSES YBC ON THE SWEATY BLOODY SHAKY FOREHEAD!!
WHAT!!
WHAT!!
WHAT!!
Someone get Gov. Patterson and quick! I have never seen something so cheesy. I mean this beats all Extreme Edition Home Makeover episodes. Immediately, My Lovely & I got on the phone to discuss. We don't Twitter. We were both truly exhausted by that low moment on CSI. Really Horatio, you were my favorite character for many reasons, but lately you are spiralling down. I'm sorry...even though Gary Sinise on CSI NY is a total knockoff, I can't ever see him pursing his lips to kiss any sweaty bloody shaky forehead. Damn. You really jumped the shark and went all out in a hail of wheezing. I watched a while, but I could not get over the beginning.
American Idol anyone? I don't watch, the only entire season I have ever watched is when Fantasia won. So I thought Adam Lambert was pretty damn amazing, but so HIGH DIVA. Wow. As far as the other guy Kris...? in my head I see Angel, but I know that's that emo magician daredevil guy..I was surprised that anyone toting a guitar could win AI. Don't all attack me at once, like I said I really don't watch, but I figure if I talked CSI, I might as well hit a another as seen on tv. I did watch Gossip Girl, One Tree Hill and Grey's. I talked about Grey's on Facebook, posting throughout the entire epi, so I'm not revisiting.
GG & OTH took really sweet lovey-dovey ways out, with GG ending with the crazy chick who used to be Buffy The Vampire Slayer's/Charmed/or some other supernatural girly show's little sister ominously asking to be Blair's roomie in college. OTH really let us believe that kooky-eyed Peyton was down for the count and Lucas was left being the single dad to an unnamed baby. Eureka! Peyton, Lucas and Sawyer (previously unnamed baby) rode off into the sunset apparently never to be seen again. Was I the only person who thought Baby Sawyer was at least a year old? WTH, they would have been better off with a Cabbage Patch Preemie. When they drove off, Toddler Sawyer was supposed to be about 8weeks if that much, homegirl was listening to her ipod and chewing Trident. Way to go OTH. Way to go.
In case anyone is wondering why I have not touched THE MOST AMAZING THING THAT HAPPENED AT THE GYM, is because I have not been regular enough to talk about it. I think I went last week, and if I did, I did not see anything worthy. I don't remember if I told you about YogaGirl...hmmm...one day I was at the gym, trying to keep up with the Jones' on the No Joke, and there was one girl wearing yoga pants and effortlessly speeding through her workout. She was not sweating in the least, yet watching her nearly made me sweat. She was wearing dark purple yoga pants, which looked fabulous. For all the speeding, she didn't have a wedgie and the pants were not riding up. I guess she read my blog about appropriate gym underwear. I wondered to myself if she was actually into yoga, or if she was just wearing the pants. Don't mock me, this is how my mind works.
After my workout, I fakewalked to the weight area, yawned and rolled my eyes. That is the bulk of my weight training..I do the same ish each time. Walk, yawn, roll and head to the locker room. Lo and behold YogaGirl did not disappoint! As I headed to the locker, I saw her stretching near the mirrors and she...ok let me try to do it justice, she had her hands flat down in front of her and her legs extended out, she took a deep breath and then LIFTED HER LEGS YOGA PANTS AND ALL up and still extended, she looked like a human T. WOW. I thought to secretly stalk her. I could learn something, at the very least be truly amazed and inspired. I can't imagine you are reading, Yogagirl, but if you are, I am impressed, though not surprised, seeing how you WHIPPED the No Joke into shape.
Who can go to the gym with that kind of pressure?
You get me, that's why I love you.
Lola
Tuesday, May 12, 2009
Eleventh Tuesday
Dear Readers,
Every now and then this blog must take a serious turn. Today is not one of those days. Hiyuck! I'm not at home and not at a time that should be leisure if you catch my drift, but I need to relax a bit before I start my real day to day. I am not implying that you are not part of my-you know I think I've had enough of apologizing to you, mind you, I first typed "apologying"....oh boy.
You ought to know, think serious, like Alanis Morrissette, you ought to know that I am under the influence of a strong painkiller. Why? Why, you ask? I'll tell ya! Yesterday I had a root canal. Yep. Hey, I mentioned this to you already, yesterday, right? Well yes, it happened. I refused to settle into the chair until the dentist gave me a full explanation of what she was going to do. She was not pleased, no one likes a talky patient. Many moons ago when I was going through a particularly restless time of my life I bit down onto a harmless piece of chicken at my sibling's home. The murdabird completely annilated my back tooth. Shattered it! Flashforward to now, I finally worked up the courage to do something about it.
Word to the Readers, if you need a root canal do it right away. I don't know what was worse, the sound of the drill, the pressure of the dental icepicker thingie or the terrible smell of pulvarized tooth. Oh boy. I feel as if I am getting lightheaded just recounting the story. The dentist did not have the best bedside manner or maybe it was because I was her "12th root". I'm not kidding, I know this because she kept mumbling about how tired she was during her "12th root", yours truly. Ain't that some ish! Anyway it sucked. You know what sucked even more? The hour long wait at my CVS for ibuprofen and amoxicillan. One hour. I was so vexed during my wait that I marched right over to the magazines and picked up a few glossies. This is a big step for me, I seldom touch the mags, because I understand that they are for sale, not for preview. This was not the case yesterday. I had to do something to distract myself from my swollen tongue, numb mouth and the stupid pharmateens giggling behind the counter. Shouldn't a pharmacist be a trusty old person that gives you a fat free sucker with tender advice? I felt like I was being waited on by the cast of Gossip Girl. On top of that some tattoo'd lady with a set of newborns comes in and everyone got really distracted. Normally I'd be happy to check out a set of newborns, but I'd just finished reading my 4th Jon & Kate article so I was less than impressed. Oooh, aaah, blah blah blah.
I don't really have the energy to go on. I'm sorry. I slept peacefully with a belly full of mashed and then some, but I'm tired. The painkillers make me move in slow motion which reminds me of the MOST AMAZING THING I saw on tv last night. We were watching CSI Miami and Horatio's Baby's Mama Julie formally Showgirl, formally the blond nerdlette from uh...not Head of the Class, uh Saved By the Bell, decided to shoot a bullet through the coroner glass. First of all Lil'Horatio was working there with CrackDoc and the Wolf, so this was a VERY bad time for a hostage situation. Anyway, Horatio was there in a hot split second, telling Julie to drop the gun. Lil Horatio was all...MOOOOOOOM. Completely mortified at his mom's behavior, trust me, Lil H, I've been there. Crazy Julia put the gun to her head and then A WORD FROM OUR SPONSORS back at the set, everything went slo-mo and Horatio "The Man" simply TOOK the loaded gun away from Crazy Julia. That's it! That was the most amazing thing. No one was hurt, although I'm almost positive the cadavars were glassed up, but who's counting?
Ok. I have to go. My nottatooth filling feels gross and I wish I had a fat free sucker to sooth myself.
sigh.
You get me, that's why I love you.
Lola
Every now and then this blog must take a serious turn. Today is not one of those days. Hiyuck! I'm not at home and not at a time that should be leisure if you catch my drift, but I need to relax a bit before I start my real day to day. I am not implying that you are not part of my-you know I think I've had enough of apologizing to you, mind you, I first typed "apologying"....oh boy.
You ought to know, think serious, like Alanis Morrissette, you ought to know that I am under the influence of a strong painkiller. Why? Why, you ask? I'll tell ya! Yesterday I had a root canal. Yep. Hey, I mentioned this to you already, yesterday, right? Well yes, it happened. I refused to settle into the chair until the dentist gave me a full explanation of what she was going to do. She was not pleased, no one likes a talky patient. Many moons ago when I was going through a particularly restless time of my life I bit down onto a harmless piece of chicken at my sibling's home. The murdabird completely annilated my back tooth. Shattered it! Flashforward to now, I finally worked up the courage to do something about it.
Word to the Readers, if you need a root canal do it right away. I don't know what was worse, the sound of the drill, the pressure of the dental icepicker thingie or the terrible smell of pulvarized tooth. Oh boy. I feel as if I am getting lightheaded just recounting the story. The dentist did not have the best bedside manner or maybe it was because I was her "12th root". I'm not kidding, I know this because she kept mumbling about how tired she was during her "12th root", yours truly. Ain't that some ish! Anyway it sucked. You know what sucked even more? The hour long wait at my CVS for ibuprofen and amoxicillan. One hour. I was so vexed during my wait that I marched right over to the magazines and picked up a few glossies. This is a big step for me, I seldom touch the mags, because I understand that they are for sale, not for preview. This was not the case yesterday. I had to do something to distract myself from my swollen tongue, numb mouth and the stupid pharmateens giggling behind the counter. Shouldn't a pharmacist be a trusty old person that gives you a fat free sucker with tender advice? I felt like I was being waited on by the cast of Gossip Girl. On top of that some tattoo'd lady with a set of newborns comes in and everyone got really distracted. Normally I'd be happy to check out a set of newborns, but I'd just finished reading my 4th Jon & Kate article so I was less than impressed. Oooh, aaah, blah blah blah.
I don't really have the energy to go on. I'm sorry. I slept peacefully with a belly full of mashed and then some, but I'm tired. The painkillers make me move in slow motion which reminds me of the MOST AMAZING THING I saw on tv last night. We were watching CSI Miami and Horatio's Baby's Mama Julie formally Showgirl, formally the blond nerdlette from uh...not Head of the Class, uh Saved By the Bell, decided to shoot a bullet through the coroner glass. First of all Lil'Horatio was working there with CrackDoc and the Wolf, so this was a VERY bad time for a hostage situation. Anyway, Horatio was there in a hot split second, telling Julie to drop the gun. Lil Horatio was all...MOOOOOOOM. Completely mortified at his mom's behavior, trust me, Lil H, I've been there. Crazy Julia put the gun to her head and then A WORD FROM OUR SPONSORS back at the set, everything went slo-mo and Horatio "The Man" simply TOOK the loaded gun away from Crazy Julia. That's it! That was the most amazing thing. No one was hurt, although I'm almost positive the cadavars were glassed up, but who's counting?
Ok. I have to go. My nottatooth filling feels gross and I wish I had a fat free sucker to sooth myself.
sigh.
You get me, that's why I love you.
Lola
Monday, May 11, 2009
Tenth Tuesday Mother's Day Edition
Dear Readers,
Incidentally, by no prior thought or consideration, today's blog Tenth Tuesday is only a day before Eleventh Tuesday! What in carnation, right? The world works in mysterious ways. I just put too much water in my oatmeal. That is not a random thought, but right now the most urgent thing on my agenda. I am constantly in a state of being healthier, and when I plan on plain oatmeal fortified with ground flax seed and bedazzled with raspberries, that's what the hell I want. Now the raspberries have sunk to the bottom and the "oatmeal" looks like murky miso. Sigh. Bloody hell...or should I say Watery Oatmeal. That will be my $%#& of the week, Watery Oatmeal!! I'm tempted to drain some of the water out, but I feel as if that will make matters so much worse. The most remarkable thing I heard on the news this morning was that its Eat Whatever You Want Day. I wish I knew that before I celebrated Eat Whatever You Want Weekend. Holy hell, what am I going to do with this inedible oatmeal? I'll be right back, I can't deal..its only Monday.
This is where the brief word from our sponsors would be...give me a second to go salvage my breakfast. Well. Word to the wise, never try to drain water off of oatmeal. First of all, the sink looks like a crime scene and the poor oatmeal has been flushed, pricey raspberries and all. See how my day is setting up? Breakfast now has morphed from a healthy cup of hot cereal to a sausage roll. For those of you who don't dine on school food every weekday, a sausage roll is a turkey sausage baked in bread. How healthy does that sound? I suck. Enough beating myself up. Who's next?
This is just the type of Monday that will be punctuated with a root canal. I'm not kidding. I'm having a root canal today. Why are you shaking your head incredulously? I'm not shitting you. In hindsight, maybe I should celebrate Eat Whatever You Want Day, because after 6pm today, oatmeal won't be the only runny meal I'll be dining on. You didn't ask, but why not share the rest of today's fun menu with you? Lunch is going to be black bean soup and whole wheat crackers. I'll probably snack on an apple and grapefruit. My post-op meal will be a yogurt shake with strawberries and some raspberries that I stashed behind the brown sugar in the freezer at home. If my jaw does not feel like its going to fall out, I may attempt the gym today, but you know, the way things are going thus far, I better keep my bleep at home.
How was your Mother's Day? Mine was OK. My Lovely took me and her Grandma to dinner on Saturday, which was pretty fabulous. Sunday my sister took us all out to breakfast. The kiddies bought me a lavender LOVE YOU MAMA bear and my niece and nephew bought me some cool vintagey looking Coke glasses. My niece apparently did not appreciate sharing a gift with her brother, so she tried to one up him with a ring pop. He did not appreciate her attempt and he ended up giving me a sand stuffed fish key chain without the actual key fob-you figure it out. I love them, they rock. My sister, who apparently wants to be me, bought the SAME EXACT CARD FOR MY MOM that I did..to add insult to WTF, she bought ME THE SAME CARD from her kids that I BOUGHT HER from my kids. Someone needs to stay away from my damn CVS!! I can't have NOTHING for myself. I'm aware of the double negative, allow me a moment of ebonica. The remainder of the day, I played Sims, dozed and watched a little Lifetime. I did laundry, but only because I am the ONLY PERSON IN THE HOUSEHOLD who does laundry. If I miss a Sunday laundry day, I'm bound to be hip deep in Tide for the rest of the week. No thank you, ma'am.
Speaking of Sims, I am so obsessed. My Lovely has made it possible for me to own practically every Sims game there is. If you don't know about the Sims, perhaps you should stop reading, because I don't want to pass on my obsession....just a recap...yesterday my Sims, roommates Chastity Green and Dude (I don't have the capacity to remember his name) took their relationship one step forward and starting HAVING IT right in Dude's bed. Dude fell all in love with Chas and now wants to marry her. Unfortunately Chas is a wild child and falls in LUST with everydamnSim. I mean, Dude would be deep asleep and Chas is just downstairs making it with everySim. I started feeling bad for Dude, so I bought a mode changer and changed Chas's mood to marriage material. Now they are married! I only have a few hours of game play to get Chas knocked up...what a chore. I need her to have a baby and I need to make Dude have an affair-shit, he owes Chas at least one indiscretion...hoe monger she is.
Uhhhh the sausage roll is not doing nice things to me right now, or perhaps its the 32oz of coffee that I've been nursing since 8am. I do these things to myself.
Dear Readers, I have a confession to make...I'm not as whimsical as you may think. I know that I keep my mood up and happy and try my best to share my everyday with you without putting you straight to sleep-but I usually have a lot on my mind that I actually don't share with you. Can you beat that? I never, never lie to you...I never embellish my everyday, but I do hold back. I'm sorry. It's just that I have to leave a little something just for me. I feel like I am cheating you, but if I tell you everything, then you will either just have questions or blank stares, I'd go with the blank stares, actually. I don't know where this is coming from, I really don't. If I told you everything, my blogging would never end. I guess this is a good time to thank you for reading, thank you for accepting this piece o'me.
The way I am with you is the way that I am with everyone, only you don't literally speak back to me. I don't really feel like this conversation is one-sided-if you can imagine that. I don't even have to try to imagine your side of the conversation and I want to thank you for providing me an outlet. All this Lola tends to spill out and make a watery oatmeal of my life, and I'm eternally thankful for you, Dear Readers.
You get me, that's why I love you.
Lola
Incidentally, by no prior thought or consideration, today's blog Tenth Tuesday is only a day before Eleventh Tuesday! What in carnation, right? The world works in mysterious ways. I just put too much water in my oatmeal. That is not a random thought, but right now the most urgent thing on my agenda. I am constantly in a state of being healthier, and when I plan on plain oatmeal fortified with ground flax seed and bedazzled with raspberries, that's what the hell I want. Now the raspberries have sunk to the bottom and the "oatmeal" looks like murky miso. Sigh. Bloody hell...or should I say Watery Oatmeal. That will be my $%#& of the week, Watery Oatmeal!! I'm tempted to drain some of the water out, but I feel as if that will make matters so much worse. The most remarkable thing I heard on the news this morning was that its Eat Whatever You Want Day. I wish I knew that before I celebrated Eat Whatever You Want Weekend. Holy hell, what am I going to do with this inedible oatmeal? I'll be right back, I can't deal..its only Monday.
This is where the brief word from our sponsors would be...give me a second to go salvage my breakfast. Well. Word to the wise, never try to drain water off of oatmeal. First of all, the sink looks like a crime scene and the poor oatmeal has been flushed, pricey raspberries and all. See how my day is setting up? Breakfast now has morphed from a healthy cup of hot cereal to a sausage roll. For those of you who don't dine on school food every weekday, a sausage roll is a turkey sausage baked in bread. How healthy does that sound? I suck. Enough beating myself up. Who's next?
This is just the type of Monday that will be punctuated with a root canal. I'm not kidding. I'm having a root canal today. Why are you shaking your head incredulously? I'm not shitting you. In hindsight, maybe I should celebrate Eat Whatever You Want Day, because after 6pm today, oatmeal won't be the only runny meal I'll be dining on. You didn't ask, but why not share the rest of today's fun menu with you? Lunch is going to be black bean soup and whole wheat crackers. I'll probably snack on an apple and grapefruit. My post-op meal will be a yogurt shake with strawberries and some raspberries that I stashed behind the brown sugar in the freezer at home. If my jaw does not feel like its going to fall out, I may attempt the gym today, but you know, the way things are going thus far, I better keep my bleep at home.
How was your Mother's Day? Mine was OK. My Lovely took me and her Grandma to dinner on Saturday, which was pretty fabulous. Sunday my sister took us all out to breakfast. The kiddies bought me a lavender LOVE YOU MAMA bear and my niece and nephew bought me some cool vintagey looking Coke glasses. My niece apparently did not appreciate sharing a gift with her brother, so she tried to one up him with a ring pop. He did not appreciate her attempt and he ended up giving me a sand stuffed fish key chain without the actual key fob-you figure it out. I love them, they rock. My sister, who apparently wants to be me, bought the SAME EXACT CARD FOR MY MOM that I did..to add insult to WTF, she bought ME THE SAME CARD from her kids that I BOUGHT HER from my kids. Someone needs to stay away from my damn CVS!! I can't have NOTHING for myself. I'm aware of the double negative, allow me a moment of ebonica. The remainder of the day, I played Sims, dozed and watched a little Lifetime. I did laundry, but only because I am the ONLY PERSON IN THE HOUSEHOLD who does laundry. If I miss a Sunday laundry day, I'm bound to be hip deep in Tide for the rest of the week. No thank you, ma'am.
Speaking of Sims, I am so obsessed. My Lovely has made it possible for me to own practically every Sims game there is. If you don't know about the Sims, perhaps you should stop reading, because I don't want to pass on my obsession....just a recap...yesterday my Sims, roommates Chastity Green and Dude (I don't have the capacity to remember his name) took their relationship one step forward and starting HAVING IT right in Dude's bed. Dude fell all in love with Chas and now wants to marry her. Unfortunately Chas is a wild child and falls in LUST with everydamnSim. I mean, Dude would be deep asleep and Chas is just downstairs making it with everySim. I started feeling bad for Dude, so I bought a mode changer and changed Chas's mood to marriage material. Now they are married! I only have a few hours of game play to get Chas knocked up...what a chore. I need her to have a baby and I need to make Dude have an affair-shit, he owes Chas at least one indiscretion...hoe monger she is.
Uhhhh the sausage roll is not doing nice things to me right now, or perhaps its the 32oz of coffee that I've been nursing since 8am. I do these things to myself.
Dear Readers, I have a confession to make...I'm not as whimsical as you may think. I know that I keep my mood up and happy and try my best to share my everyday with you without putting you straight to sleep-but I usually have a lot on my mind that I actually don't share with you. Can you beat that? I never, never lie to you...I never embellish my everyday, but I do hold back. I'm sorry. It's just that I have to leave a little something just for me. I feel like I am cheating you, but if I tell you everything, then you will either just have questions or blank stares, I'd go with the blank stares, actually. I don't know where this is coming from, I really don't. If I told you everything, my blogging would never end. I guess this is a good time to thank you for reading, thank you for accepting this piece o'me.
The way I am with you is the way that I am with everyone, only you don't literally speak back to me. I don't really feel like this conversation is one-sided-if you can imagine that. I don't even have to try to imagine your side of the conversation and I want to thank you for providing me an outlet. All this Lola tends to spill out and make a watery oatmeal of my life, and I'm eternally thankful for you, Dear Readers.
You get me, that's why I love you.
Lola
Friday, May 1, 2009
Ninth Tuesday
Dear Readers,
Hello, hello, hello, salutations! Yes, I know its not really Tuesday, but bear with me. I'm an artist and we need to be cut a little slack, especially me, I am the Original Slacker, wait, maybe that didn't come out right. Alright, we can go on like this all day. Dear Readers, I am OVERFLOWING with thoughts. You must understand that you are always in a corner of my mind and if I had the ability to do so I would blog all day, straight to you, intravenously. Where to begin?
It was bought to my attention recently that I always have a separate conversation going on in my head; I think I might be talking to you. The problem with the second conversation in my head is that the actual conversation that is being verbalized at the time is not in sync, causing all types of what the hell. I think an example is appropriate...right now, as I type this, one part of my brain is working on getting my thoughts to the keyboard-while another part of my brain is questioning whether this is what I want to be expressing, and still yet another part of my brain is questioning why I would give something so much consideration. If you've ever been in a mirror room, where you were able to see yourself from different prospectives all at one time, then you can understand where I'm coming from. This might be why I sometimes seem so scatterbrained.
What do you think? Please don't all answer at once and save your snickers for yo'mama. I'm telling you this because you need to know. Well perhaps not all of you, but I'm sure someone can use this information about me...maybe mostly me.
Click Here! to help send my kids to college!! Your Click! will save a child! I'm trying to delicately sedgeway to my first (or second depending on what you got out of the previous convo)topic today. Unless you live under a rock, you must know about the unfortunately named swine flu. I'm not going to discuss swine flu-its not the first flu, its not the last-wash your hands, take precautions, live your life. The only real victim here is the poor pig. As if a pig does not have enough to worry about, now something else negative is associated with it. Didn't ANYONE read Charlotte's Web?? Anyway. The Click Here! is what I want to discuss. I was watching the news recently (I know, right?) and they were discussing blogging for MONEY. Yes, MONEY-could I get paid for this?? Upon further investigation, I found that the only way I could get paid is if I attach ads to my blog and somehow coerce you to Click! on them. There is a bookmark on this site, called Monetize, where I can start the money flowing. Long story short, I'm not doing it. I don't want to compromise my Dear Readers for a little extra cash. Why should I? Sure I could use the cash, but I only get paid when you've Clicked! a certain amount of times, thus causing the money to overflow from the sponsers pockets to my meek mailbox in the form of a check. I just don't want to. I know that you enjoy reading, and I don't expect anything for you in payment. Actually. If you are so concerned about my wellbeing, the children going to college and me affording my dream car, we can arrange this right now. You can just send me money! Why go through all that Clicking! when we can just eliminate the middle man? We can all work together. I can't afford a PO box, so I'll just have to pray that no one uses my home address to C*****L**t me. Hee. That's After the money starts coming, maybe I will invest in a PO box-so's not to tempt anyone. OMG..what a plan! Let me know if you are interested.
To show how much I care about society I am willing to give a portion of my earnings to a cause close and dear to my heart, The Wear A T-Shirt That Fits For Crying Out Loud, aka WATSTFFCOL Fund. I am so tired seeing these sad, sorry bellies everywhere I go. Ladies. If anyone can see any part of your midsection, your shirt does not fit.
In a society where pants that don't extend to cover your socks are called high waters (where's the fire), I don't understand what's so difficult about wearing other shirts that fit. If your thong is cutting into your spine, do you continue to wear it? There are variations to this heinous crime. A short sleeve shirt should not fit your arms like its a tank top, nor should there be marks left on your poor squeezed arms at the end of the day. Your breasts need space...it warms my heart to see a woman wearing a shirt her actual size-her breasts are able to bounce freely, happily like God intended..smooshing them in a shirt to the point of uniboob is NOT OK. How dare you?
I see that you want the world to know that you have breasts, but if your shirt is so tight that your nipples are flattened, how feminine are you really? You know what, now that I think about it, you tight-shirted offenders like to make matters worse by wearing too small, too low, too tight jeans. ARE YOU KIDDING ME? Do you know what you accomplish now? You smoosh your breasts to a uniboob, you give your stomach no choice but to be pushed unnaturally low to your waist, your jeans are so tight that your stomach can't even find a place to land, leaving it squeezed O U T T O H E R E.
Now what could have been considered a "spare tire" is now a whole Mac truck wrapped around your waist. Actually what waist? You criminals don't even know where your waist is, because if you did, you might know what size your jeans should be.
I need a breather.
Listen, I don't like to judge anyone. This is why I am willing to help anyone who needs it. I Will Help You Determine Your Shirt Size. Ok? This is many years of misinformation. Its not really your fault. Someone should tell you. If I didn't want to live, I guess I would take it upon myself and tell you to your face and not in a blog that you may not read anyway. How do you even sit in that get-up?
Special note to you girls that do all of the above but somehow manage to YANK the shirt down far enough to TUCK into the too tight, too small, too low jeans and secure the whole PACKAGE with a belt.
THERE. IS. NO. HOPE. FOR. YOU.
I can't save everyone. Mind you, all girls, regardless of the body type do this madness. Skinny chicks, you are not free from scrutiny. If you are wearing clothes that are too small, you actually end up looking out of shape. Please Ladies, wear clothes that fit, do the world a favor.
Men: You are not off the hook. Let me tell you, I thought I really hated loose jeans hanging to your knees and for the life of me, I could not figure how you walk and keep them up...I was mortified when y'all started wearing itsy-bitsy Children's Place jeans...you have added WTF to OMG by wearing the same itsy-bitsy CP jeans hanging to your knees. No excuses for you, none at all. Also, since I am a feminist (read:lesbian) I won't allocate any of my WATSTFFCOL monies to help you out. Sorry. If you can spend so much on a pair of jeans that WILL NEVER FIT you correctly, then you can start your own fund.
I'm winded. Send me some money for a new t-shirt, cold medication and a psychiatrist and I'll write you in the morning.
You get me, that's why I love you.
Lola
Hello, hello, hello, salutations! Yes, I know its not really Tuesday, but bear with me. I'm an artist and we need to be cut a little slack, especially me, I am the Original Slacker, wait, maybe that didn't come out right. Alright, we can go on like this all day. Dear Readers, I am OVERFLOWING with thoughts. You must understand that you are always in a corner of my mind and if I had the ability to do so I would blog all day, straight to you, intravenously. Where to begin?
It was bought to my attention recently that I always have a separate conversation going on in my head; I think I might be talking to you. The problem with the second conversation in my head is that the actual conversation that is being verbalized at the time is not in sync, causing all types of what the hell. I think an example is appropriate...right now, as I type this, one part of my brain is working on getting my thoughts to the keyboard-while another part of my brain is questioning whether this is what I want to be expressing, and still yet another part of my brain is questioning why I would give something so much consideration. If you've ever been in a mirror room, where you were able to see yourself from different prospectives all at one time, then you can understand where I'm coming from. This might be why I sometimes seem so scatterbrained.
What do you think? Please don't all answer at once and save your snickers for yo'mama. I'm telling you this because you need to know. Well perhaps not all of you, but I'm sure someone can use this information about me...maybe mostly me.
Click Here! to help send my kids to college!! Your Click! will save a child! I'm trying to delicately sedgeway to my first (or second depending on what you got out of the previous convo)topic today. Unless you live under a rock, you must know about the unfortunately named swine flu. I'm not going to discuss swine flu-its not the first flu, its not the last-wash your hands, take precautions, live your life. The only real victim here is the poor pig. As if a pig does not have enough to worry about, now something else negative is associated with it. Didn't ANYONE read Charlotte's Web?? Anyway. The Click Here! is what I want to discuss. I was watching the news recently (I know, right?) and they were discussing blogging for MONEY. Yes, MONEY-could I get paid for this?? Upon further investigation, I found that the only way I could get paid is if I attach ads to my blog and somehow coerce you to Click! on them. There is a bookmark on this site, called Monetize, where I can start the money flowing. Long story short, I'm not doing it. I don't want to compromise my Dear Readers for a little extra cash. Why should I? Sure I could use the cash, but I only get paid when you've Clicked! a certain amount of times, thus causing the money to overflow from the sponsers pockets to my meek mailbox in the form of a check. I just don't want to. I know that you enjoy reading, and I don't expect anything for you in payment. Actually. If you are so concerned about my wellbeing, the children going to college and me affording my dream car, we can arrange this right now. You can just send me money! Why go through all that Clicking! when we can just eliminate the middle man? We can all work together. I can't afford a PO box, so I'll just have to pray that no one uses my home address to C*****L**t me. Hee. That's After the money starts coming, maybe I will invest in a PO box-so's not to tempt anyone. OMG..what a plan! Let me know if you are interested.
To show how much I care about society I am willing to give a portion of my earnings to a cause close and dear to my heart, The Wear A T-Shirt That Fits For Crying Out Loud, aka WATSTFFCOL Fund. I am so tired seeing these sad, sorry bellies everywhere I go. Ladies. If anyone can see any part of your midsection, your shirt does not fit.
In a society where pants that don't extend to cover your socks are called high waters (where's the fire), I don't understand what's so difficult about wearing other shirts that fit. If your thong is cutting into your spine, do you continue to wear it? There are variations to this heinous crime. A short sleeve shirt should not fit your arms like its a tank top, nor should there be marks left on your poor squeezed arms at the end of the day. Your breasts need space...it warms my heart to see a woman wearing a shirt her actual size-her breasts are able to bounce freely, happily like God intended..smooshing them in a shirt to the point of uniboob is NOT OK. How dare you?
I see that you want the world to know that you have breasts, but if your shirt is so tight that your nipples are flattened, how feminine are you really? You know what, now that I think about it, you tight-shirted offenders like to make matters worse by wearing too small, too low, too tight jeans. ARE YOU KIDDING ME? Do you know what you accomplish now? You smoosh your breasts to a uniboob, you give your stomach no choice but to be pushed unnaturally low to your waist, your jeans are so tight that your stomach can't even find a place to land, leaving it squeezed O U T T O H E R E.
Now what could have been considered a "spare tire" is now a whole Mac truck wrapped around your waist. Actually what waist? You criminals don't even know where your waist is, because if you did, you might know what size your jeans should be.
I need a breather.
Listen, I don't like to judge anyone. This is why I am willing to help anyone who needs it. I Will Help You Determine Your Shirt Size. Ok? This is many years of misinformation. Its not really your fault. Someone should tell you. If I didn't want to live, I guess I would take it upon myself and tell you to your face and not in a blog that you may not read anyway. How do you even sit in that get-up?
Special note to you girls that do all of the above but somehow manage to YANK the shirt down far enough to TUCK into the too tight, too small, too low jeans and secure the whole PACKAGE with a belt.
THERE. IS. NO. HOPE. FOR. YOU.
I can't save everyone. Mind you, all girls, regardless of the body type do this madness. Skinny chicks, you are not free from scrutiny. If you are wearing clothes that are too small, you actually end up looking out of shape. Please Ladies, wear clothes that fit, do the world a favor.
Men: You are not off the hook. Let me tell you, I thought I really hated loose jeans hanging to your knees and for the life of me, I could not figure how you walk and keep them up...I was mortified when y'all started wearing itsy-bitsy Children's Place jeans...you have added WTF to OMG by wearing the same itsy-bitsy CP jeans hanging to your knees. No excuses for you, none at all. Also, since I am a feminist (read:lesbian) I won't allocate any of my WATSTFFCOL monies to help you out. Sorry. If you can spend so much on a pair of jeans that WILL NEVER FIT you correctly, then you can start your own fund.
I'm winded. Send me some money for a new t-shirt, cold medication and a psychiatrist and I'll write you in the morning.
You get me, that's why I love you.
Lola
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