30 posts in 30 days. I said I would do it, and I did. I looked at this as a challenge, a test if you will. Having started my new job only two weeks before this NaBloPoMo thing, and while working on my Master's, I managed to post every single day this month. And do you know what I learned from all this?
I can do anything I set my mind to.
I do not like posting every single day.*
I will never do it again.**
I am a dumbass.
I'm tired and would like to take a nap now.
*It really wasn't that bad. **I'll probably do it again.
1. ONE OF YOUR SCARS, HOW DID YOU GET IT? I cut my hand open while butterflying a chicken breast. My stupidity earned me eight stitches and huge bragging rights in the male-dominated kitchen I was working in at the time.
2. WHAT DO YOU WANT MORE THAN ANYTHING RIGHT NOW? My own home. And a man. And a puppy. Pretty much in that order.
3. DO YOU KNOW WHAT TIME YOU WERE BORN? 9:23 pm on a Tuesday evening.
4. WHAT WAS YOUR FAVORITE TOY AS A CHILD? It's a tie between my Easy Bake Oven and my Barbie Camper Van.
5. THE BEST TV SHOW EVER CREATED: Buffy the Vampire Slayer.
6. THE LAST PERSON YOU TALKED TO? My mother. I took her dinner order. If I don't get a life soon I'll be answering this question with the words My therapist for the rest of my life.
7. DO YOU GET SCARED IN THE DARK? I do. I'm a big sissy. Hold me.
8. THE LAST PERSON TO MAKE YOU CRY? Someone completely unworthy.
9. HOW MANY WISDOM TEETH DO YOU HAVE? All of them. It's where I store all my wisdom. There is no way they are coming out.
10. WHAT IS YOUR FAVORITE COLOGNE / PERFUME? Whatever Gerard Butler wears is fine with me.
11. WHAT KIND OF HAIR/EYE COLOR DO YOU LIKE ON THE OPPOSITE SEX? I like dark hair and light eyes, but that is not set in stone.
12. WOULD YOU RATHER BE SMART OR FUNNY? This implies that I am neither. I take offense to this question.
13. COFFEE OR ENERGY DRINKS? Since when isn't coffee an energy drink?
14. IF YOU COULD EAT ANYTHING RIGHT NOW, WHAT WOULD IT BE? The hazelnut gelato at Perché No in Florence, Italy. You said anything.
15. WHO IS THE LAST PERSON YOU MADE MAD? The list of possibilities is endless.
16. DO YOU SPEAK ANOTHER LANGUAGE? I speak fluent six year old.
17. DO YOU LIKE SOMEONE? I do I do! I'll pass you a note in study hall and tell you all about him!
18. WOULD YOU FALL IN LOVE KNOWING THAT THE PERSON IS LEAVING? You mean fall in love with someone completely unavailable? Who couldn't return my love? Who would only break my heart and abandon me, leaving me behind in a broken heap? Who would do that to themselves?
19. WHAT IS THE BEST WAY TO TELL SOMEONE HOW MUCH THEY MEAN TO YOU? I like to call him names, kick him in the shin, and then run away screeching at the top of my lungs. After which my girlfriends and I giggle wildly and crank call his house.
20. WHAT ANNOYS YOU MOST? The asshole who parks in the illegal spot in front of Wawa everyday making it impossible to turn the corner without driving into oncoming traffic. I hope he gets a hemorrhoid from sitting there.
21. HAVE YOU BEEN OUT OF THE U.S.? Many many times. I think it should be a requirement of all American citizens to get the fuck out of this country so that they can see that there is a great big world out there, and that it doesn't revolve around the U.S.
22. YOUR WEAKNESSES? Dimples and six pack abs.
23. IF YOU COULD GET PLASTIC SURGERY WHAT WOULD IT BE? I'd like to be made into Angelina Jolie.
24. WHY DID YOU FILL OUT THIS SURVEY? I did it for Princess. It's always a good idea to suck up to royalty.
25. ARE YOU TOO SHY TO ASK SOMEONE OUT? I'm single and 42. You do the math.
26. WHAT DO YOU GET COMPLIMENTED ABOUT MOST? My megawatt smile and razor sharp wit.
27. WHAT WOULD YOU DO IF ALCOHOL BECAME ILLEGAL? I don't understand the question.
28. HOW MANY KIDS DO YOU WANT? No more than 18 is best. Oh wait, that's not what you meant...
29. WHERE YOU NAMED AFTER ANYONE? My mother wanted to name me after my Aunt Fannie. Thank you dad.
30. WHEN DID YOU LAST CRY? As I stated before, I'm a big sissy. I cry on a fairly regular basis. Sappy commercials. Random acts of kindness. Puppies. Rereading Charlotte's Web. Gerard Butler's abs in 300. Pretty much anything can set me off.
31. ANY BAD HABITS? Absolutely not. I'm a complete delight.
32. IF YOU WERE ANOTHER PERSON, WOULD YOU BE FRIENDS WITH YOU? Absolutely. I'm a complete delight.
33. DO YOU KNOW ANYONE FAMOUS? I know lots of famous people. Oh, you meant do they know me back...
34. DO LOOKS MATTER? To me? Seriously, is this your first time here?
35. HOW DO YOU RELEASE YOUR ANGER? I take it out on Todd.
36. DO YOU TRUST OTHERS EASILY? No, I am very wary of whom I trust. This is because I am a rotten judge of character.
37. FAVORITE THOUGHT PROVOKING SONG: Milkshake. I mean, she's really not talking about her milkshake, now is she.
38. FAVORITE DAY OF THE YEAR? The last day of school.
I decided early on that I was going to try something different with my Thanksgiving dinner this year - I was going to experiment with some new recipes. Now as some of you know, in my former career I was a professional chef. I have always been one who made every single aspect of my Thanksgiving meal from scratch using only the best and freshest ingredients. But this year I decided that I was going to attempt some tried and true recipes that the everyday people of my country seem to swear by with a vengeance. So I spent the better part of the week before Turkey day trolling the internet for classic recipes for Candied Yams, Corn Puddin', and Green Bean Casserole.
I decided to steer clear of the "chef" sites such as FoodTV and Martha, and instead wanted to find the delights that the typical housewife in America was sharing with her compatriots. The recipes required ingredients that as a former professional chef I thought I would never use in my lifetime, but that made it even more exciting for me. For example, I actually purchased canned yams this year. Up until now I had never even seen a canned yam. The texture was one I had never encountered before in any of the food groups. However, after suitably mashing them to a pulp, drowning them in maple syrup and brown sugar, and then covering them with the required mini-marshmallows - I had the all-American candied yams I have heard so much about. They were indeed a tasty treat. Thank you Linda from Albuquerque.
The corn pudding casserole from Dawn in West Virginia was also a hit. I appreciate her boldness in not holding back on either the butter or the sour cream. There is still quite a bit left in my refrigerator and by Monday the consistency should be just perfect for spackling my bathroom. I did use my own recipes for sausage and mushroom stuffing, garlic mashed potatoes, and cranberry sauce only because they are so ingrained in my head that looking up other recipes for them would have been a waste of time. Also certain family members would have beaten me to death with frozen drumsticks if I messed with those recipes. But - I did buy two cans of "cranberry jelly" for my nephew - who ate both of them before the meal was even served. I searched wildly for new ways to roast Mr. Turkey, but most of them were just variations of the same theme, and basically all would have resulted in a bird that would be so overcooked that the breast meat could be served next year as turkey-jerky. I chose to stick to my own method for the bird.
I have to admit my excitement when it came time to make the world famous green bean casserole that I have been hearing about throughout my lifetime. Yes, you read that correctly. I have never made, eaten, seen, or smelled the casserole that consists of canned green beans, cream of mushroom soup, and French fried onions. I have always made fresh green beans almondine, or broccoli with lemon butter, or grilled asparagus with a citrus marinade, or a lovely display of fresh cut vegetables to nibble on during the big feast. I admit I was ecstatic to simply dump three ingredients into a casserole and be done with it. I felt so American, so womanly, so a part of things. I now was a true member of the American culture that is Thanksgiving.
And may I say OH. MY. GOD. I haven't been this disappointed in the tastes of the American public since the axis of evil took over the White House. Seriously, what the fuck is wrong with you people. It was the most disgusting mass of grossness in the history of ickiness. It was a pimple on the ass of my perfect meal. It was a horror show in the midst of dulcet loveliness. It was shock and awe of Bush proportions.
Never again will those ingredients be welcome in my home. Never! Thanks for nothing Tammy in San Antonio! Good day to you, Tammy! I said good day!
Dear Miss Manners: Are there any special rules for the eating of Thanksgiving dinner, or is it like any other big lunch or dinner?
Gentle Reader: Yes, and yes. Thanksgiving dinner is like any other big lunch or dinner, only worse. The special rules are that several ordinary rules can, in fact must, be violated. It is held at a dreadful hour in the early afternoon, because a turkey must be cooked for many hours (and doesn't taste like much even then)*, and also so that many of the guests will eventually leave the table to watch football on television, which would be a rudeness at any other occasion but is a relief at Thanksgiving and probably the only way to get those people to budge. Next, excessive quantities of food must not only be served, but be urged with great emotional arguments on guests who have long since become uncomfortably bloated. Polite behavior on the part of guests involves literally eating themselves sick. They are also expected to hang around long after the children have gotten cross and the hosts are ready for a nap. All this makes for an unspeakable day, but who are we to argue with the wisdom of the Pilgrims?
*I disagree with Miss Manners here. Turkey tastes terrific!
How do I love thee Thanksgiving? Let me count the ways...
I love that Thanksgiving is a national holiday with no twisted religious aspects attached to it. Yes I am aware of the fact that the pilgrims came here so they could worship as they pleased, I'm a first grade teacher after all, but that wasn't the real reason behind the actual day of thanks.
I love that it's a day of appreciation that everyone can be involved in, even if they are not American. No matter how bad things are, there is always something to be thankful for.
I love that it's a day for family and friends.
I love that I get to do my favorite things - cook, eat, and watch football. Hopefully next year I'll get to do another of my favorite things too.
I love that after I do all the cooking I can relax while everyone else has to clean up. And watch more football.
I love the smells of the food and the fireplaces and the cold in the air.
I love that I'm back in the Northeast so I can have a fire going in the fireplace.
I love the feeling of belonging, that everyone in every house around me is doing the exact same thing.
I love that I am no longer a professional chef, so I have the day off.
Every now and then I hear a quote from a movie that rings so true for me that it is almost painful. The other night while watching The Holiday, I had one of those moments. It's not easy to admit that a piece of silly fluff such as this had a line that almost caused me to fall over with the sheer simplicity of its truth, but that's what blogs are for.
In the movie, Iris (Kate Winslet) is an Englishwoman who, in a completely improbable set of circumstances, switches houses for a few weeks with an American woman named Amanda (Cameron Diaz). Iris's primary reason for doing such a thing is to get away from an extremely unhealthy and dysfunctional relationship, a situation that I am all too familiar with. While having dinner with Amanda's charming elderly neighbor, Arthur, Iris learns the key to her problems with her life.
Arthur: Iris, in the movies we have leading ladies and we have the best friend. You, I can tell, are a leading lady, but for some reason you are behaving like the best friend.
Iris: You're so right. You're supposed to be the leading lady of your own life, for god's sake! Arthur, I've been going to a therapist for three years, and she's never explained things to me that well. That was brilliant. Brutal, but brilliant.
Wow. Yes! You are supposed to be the leading lady of your own life! Thank you! I have never been one to want to draw attention to myself - in both my personal and professional lives. I can't tell you how many times have I acquiesced to someone else so that I don't step on toes or hurt feelings. But now I see that it's alright for me to call attention to myself. I don't have to stand back and give others the spotlight. I can take credit when I have earned it. I can enjoy attention from others even if it means someone else will not be the center of attention for a while. It's OK to be the star of my own life!
At least I didn't spend three years in therapy for this.
Throw Your Arms Around Me by Hunters & Collectors. An Australian anthem. You can't go to a pub without hearing this song, everyone with their arms around each other's shoulders swaying in a drunken love fest. Gives me goosebumps just thinking of it. The video is cheesy and the dubbing not so in sync, but the song is golden.
I've succumbed to the Friday Feast. I've seen this posted on the lovely Spinning Girl's blog and I have tried to resist, but my will is broken and my brain is fried. Also, I'll do anything for food.
Appetizer What was your first “real” job? I worked at a hot dog stand on the Atlantic City Boardwalk called "Dip-Stix". Shut up.
Soup Where would you go if you wanted to spark your creativity? For a walk on the beach.
Salad Complete this sentence: I am embarrassed when…ever the president opens his mouth.
Main Course What values did your parents instill in you? A strong work ethic. Common sense. Independence. A moral center. Empathy. A nonjudgmental attitude. Open-mindedness. A love of reading. To not be afraid of new things. A healthy sense of humor.
Sadly, ignorance is not as funny as Calvin and Hobbes make it out to be. Lately it seems as if the ignorance and hate in the world is so prevalent that there is no getting away from it, not even here in blogland. Maybe I'm a Pollyanna. Maybe I think that deep down everyone means well. Is good inside. Can see the difference between right and wrong. But now I realize I'm wrong. The ignorance in this world is so prevalent, so hateful, that I actually feel the need to scrape myself off in the shower to wash away my disgust and disappointment. It saddens me that people can look at things in such a black and white manner, spout poison, and then claim it to be in the name of their religion or nationality.
It's Meme time! In honor of American Education Week, I am posting this educational meme. Fine, so it's not an educational meme, but actually a meme about education. You say potato...I say shut the fuck up. Thank you to Cajunvegan, fellow educator and NaBloPoMo contributor.
What is your idea of a perfect teacher? Someone who makes you want to come to school no matter how rotten you feel.
What was your most memorable school experience? When I was picked to be a co-captain of the safety patrol in fifth grade. They had never had two co-captains before, and they had never had a girl in a captain position before. I broke the safety patrol glass ceiling! Runner up: graduating from college at the tender age of 39.
What was your favorite subject? French. Shut up.
What was the low point of your school career? It's a toss-up between when my perverted Geometry teacher made up a song about me that he sang to me in front of the class every single day of my freshman year - or when my perverted Humanities teacher told me that the autobiography I wrote wasn't "personal enough" because I didn't write about boys or sex.
Did you go to public or private school? Public.
Where did you fit in your schools' social hierarchies? I was at the top of the heap. Sadly, as popular as I was, I still couldn't get a date with a high school boy to save my life. Thank goodness for college boys.
If you could change one thing about education in America, what would it be? That the teaching profession get the same respect - and pay - of other professions.
What should they teach that they don't teach now? Organizational skills and time management.
What is impossible to learn in school? Physics. No wait... that's just me.
What did you learn today? I learned that six year olds have a difficult time counting by threes.
What did you teach? How to count by threes.
What is in your dream lunch box? A turkey provolone sub, potato chips, and diet root beer.
If you wrote a textbook, what would it be called? How to do Everything My Way.
If the prom were tomorrow, whom would you take? My current movie star boyfriend.
We have to honor the veterans cause they fight for us and take care of our animals.
My dad went to Iraq cause those terrors knocked over our buildings.
War is bad. Whoever starts one* should be punished. *"I fully understand those who say you can't win this thing militarily. That's exactly what the United States military says, that you can't win this military." --George W. Bush, on the need for political progress in Iraq, Washington, D.C., Oct. 17, 2007
Ever since I was a little girl with four big brothers in the house, I have been a football fan. It's not like I had much choice. If you weren't watching football on Sundays in the fall at my house, you were persona non grata. My father, who worked six and a half days a week at his store, was always home in time for kick-off. My mother could, and still can, tell you the name and history of almost every coach in the league. We weren't one of those families that was obsessed with a certain team, or with the stats of the players, we simply enjoyed the game.
The game has changed over the years. Much more money is attached to it now, and the players (as a whole) seem more interested in calling attention to themselves than being part of a team. This is why I need to take over. Much like my "If I Were in Charge of the World" posts one and two, where I proclaim how I will clean up the world, it is now time for me to clean up the NFL. So here is a list of things that would change if I had Roger Goodell's job. Which I should.
This battle between the NFL and Time Warner - over. Grow up assholes. Everything you both have is because of the fans. It is time to start catering to them and not to your own tremendous greed and massive egos. I don't care who is right, who is wrong, or who wants to be the first to bend over and take it like the men you claim to be. Let it go.
The NFL and the team owners will cover the cost of their own stadiums - not the taxpayers. How the hell you have managed to convince cities to cover your costs is beyond me, but the buck stops here. Billionaires should pay their own bills.
Players, I have a little reminder for you. Playing in the NFL is a privilege, not a right. You are an employee just like the majority of the population. You play for your team, the owner, your coach, your fans, and the NFL. You are answerable to others. The team, the owner, your coach, your fans, the NFL - they all have the right to question your actions - on and off the field. You are lucky to be getting paid to do the job you do. You are role models to children. You need to start stepping up and acting like it. If you would like an example of how to be a class act on and off the field, then study this man carefully. If you do not like the fact that people have expectations of your behavior, then get another job. You have college degrees, finding another job should be a piece of cake.
In continuing with the concept discussed above, players will sign a very stringent "Code of Conduct" clause attached to their contracts for behavior on and off the field. Oh I know there is one now, but it doesn't seem to be working very well. So here is the deal. If you do not follow the Code of Conduct, you are fired. Period. No review. No fine. No long tedious examining process. Breaking the Code is like breaking your contract. You break it, you buy it.
You cheat - you're fired. Period. Bye bye Belichick. Enjoy life in the private sector.
That's all for now. I'm sure I'll think of more as the season continues.
I am! I am! I am so very busy these days! I'm busier than a one-legged man in an ass kicking contest. Than a crack dealer on payday. Than a Mormon at a wife swapping party. Than a ...OK I'm out. You get the picture.
So why am I so busy? Well, my new job is taking up a great deal of my time. I'm learning a whole new curriculum. I've got whole new set of rules, regulations, and policies (ie: bullshit) to figure out. And then there are the personalities of dozens of co-workers as well 18 little rugrats to get to know. Couple that with the fact that I am now in my second class for my graduate degree - A in my first class! - and you can see where I might be too tired to do anything else.
Funny thing about that though. I'm not. Too tired to do anything else I mean. In fact, I have more energy than ever. I have gotten more accomplished this past month when I have had absolutely no time than I did all summer when I had all the time in the world. I'm going out every weekend and finding that I have more friends back here than I even realized. I'm filling my days with things to do instead of lying around waiting for things to happen. I wake up early on my days off because I don't want to sleep my day away. I could be wrong, but I think I have become a productive member of society.
Lucille Ball once said, "If you want something done, ask a busy person to do it." Busy people get things done, which is almost redundant if you read that out loud. This is why I committed to blog every day this month - because I am busier than ever. It's why I will look to finally buy my first home even though I barely have time to breathe, because there is no better time than now. It's why this is the time for me to find that special someone, because I simply don't have the time for someone else - yet somehow I will. It's why I feel happier than I have in a very, very long time.
Public Question No. 4 of the New Jersey Ballot this year
CONSTITUTIONAL AMENDMENT CONCERNING THE RIGHT TO VOTE FOR CERTAIN PERSONS
Shall the amendment of Article II, Section I, paragraph 6 of the Constitution, agreed to by the Legislature, revising the current constitutional language concerning denial of the right to vote by deleting the phrase “idiot or insane person” and providing instead that a “person who has been adjudicated by a court of competent jurisdiction to lack the capacity to understand the act of voting” shall not enjoy the right of suffrage, be adopted?
Approval of this amendment concerning the denial of the right to vote would delete the phrase “idiot or insane person” and replace that phrase with “person who has been adjudicated by a court of competent jurisdiction to lack the capacity to understand the act of voting” in describing those persons who shall be denied the right to vote. The phrase “idiot or insane person” is outdated, vague, offensive to many, and may be subject to misinterpretation. This constitutional amendment acknowledges that individuals with cognitive or emotional disabilities may otherwise be capable of making decisions in the voting booth and that their right of self-determination should be respected and protected in this regard. The amendment only denies the right of suffrage to those individuals determined by a court, on a case-by-case basis, to lack the capacity to understand the act of voting.
Now I realize that this is dealing with an important and sensitive issue, but I found the entire thing hilarious. Especially the "may be subject to misinterpretation" and the "lack the capacity to understand the act of voting" bits. Let's face it, if only we had denied the right to vote to all the idiots who lacked the capacity to understand the act of voting in the last two presidential elections, we wouldn't have such an idiot in the White House.
"My job is a decision-making job, and as a result, I make a lot of decisions." --George W. Bush, Lancaster, Pa., Oct. 3, 2007
Today at dismissal, two of my boys were fighting. They are best friends, so it was really "Just play fighting, Ms. Woes!" Of course I had to find out what they were fighting over, so I asked them why they felt the need to repeatedly smack each other upside the head.
Ms. Woes: Why do you feel the need to repeatedly smack each other upside the head?
Boy 1: He called me a ladies' man!
Gym teacher standing nearby: coughs and turns away to hide his laughing.
Ms. Woes: Do you know what a ladies' man is?
Boy 1: No.
Boy 2: No.
Ms. Woes: You don't even know what you are fighting over! Just shake hands and stop hitting each other over nonsense.
Boy 1 and Boy 2: shake hands and make friends again.
Nosy Loudmouth Second Grader standing nearby: A ladies' man is a boy who all the girls like and want to kiss!
Boy 1 and Boy 2: scream out EWWWWWWW! and commence smacking each other upside the head as the Gym Teacher and I collapse in giggles.
Today would have been my father's 84th birthday. My father and I did not have an easy time of it, but I do not choose to dwell on the negative aspects of our relationship.
I found a picture of us from my second birthday party(I would have posted it here, but I'm afraid someone will steal it and put it on one of those retro cards). I am sitting at the table with friends and family around me digging into their birthday cake. In the background is my father. The cake in his hand has not been touched. He is completely focused on me, love and pride all over his face. Sadly, I am not facing him. The picture represents everything about our relationship. My dad's love only showing when I am not looking. If only I could have seen this look on his face while he was still alive, just once, our relationship would have been so much different. I'm just grateful that somebody captured it on film.
This is how I choose to remember him. Happy birthday, Dad.
It was ten years ago that I was having a drink with a friend at a local watering hole when I saw him for the first time. What was that! we both exclaimed simultaneously. He was blond and blue eyed and beautiful. Someone introduced us. It wasn't long before we realized that we had both grown up in the same small town, knew all the same people, had been born only four days apart, but had never even heard of each other. I remember thinking that was impossible, everyone knew me. He said the same about himself.
He was charming, sweet, and perfect. He owned his own business. His own home. Drove a truck. Had a dog. He was an everyman, and exactly the kind of guy a girl is looking for, even when she didn't know she was looking. My beeper went off twice while talking to him, and he figured rightly that I was seeing someone else. He left without asking for my number.
Over the years we would run into each other on a regular basis. Sometimes he would be happy to see me, so much so that I would crush on him all over again. We would really talk to each other, telling each other things so personal that it was surprising to both of us. Other times it was as if he didn't even know me. I, of course, took this personally. Did I offend him the last time I saw him? Was he embarrassed by how much he had revealed about himself to me? Was he annoyed that our timing always seemed to be off? I had let him know my relationship was over. Had I read all the signals wrong? Was all of this in my head?
Even when I moved away he was in the back of my mind. Unfinished business. The wondering of what might have been. I would jokingly ask my friends back home if they had seen "my future husband" lately. When I would come home for visits I would inevitably run into him, and each time my heart would flutter. There was still something there. I knew he had a serious girlfriend, but always in the back of my mind there was that thought that we were not really ... done with each other... that maybe we would even end up together. He represented everything I was looking for: stable, kind, self-made, ambitious, attractive, easy going, fun. I was willing to wait for him to find his way to me.
Last night while having a drink with a friend (different friend, different bar) we got onto the topic of crushes. She pointed out a guy she had been crushing on for ten years, and I confessed my ten year crush as well. She asked who he was, and I told her. Her mouth dropped open. She is friends with his girlfriend.
Shit! I thought. I never should have said anything.
There's someone you should know about him, she told me.
Oh no, I thought, no no no. He's getting married. It's done. I missed my window - again. I braced myself for the news.
He's a fucking mess. On major medications - and he doesn't always take them when he is supposed to. Bipolar, manic depressive, serious serious issues. She has her hands full with him. She doesn't know what he's going to be like from one day to the next. And she is a total enabler- her last boyfriend was an alcoholic and drug addict. It's no wonder they are together, they are perfect for each other.
So much explained in a few short sentences. Ten years of seeing things one way suddenly wiped clean to expose a new and stunning truth. I had never seen the real picture. I had never seen the real him.
Today is the start of National Blog Posting Month - otherwise known as NaBloPoMo '07. The basic concept behind NaBloPoMo is to post every single day for the month of November. That's pretty much it. I thought it would take longer to describe it but apparently not. There may be some prizes involved but I'm not sure - I didn't really look into this too deeply. I've wanted to do this in the past but something always seemed to get in the way. For example, I was unable to participate in the NaBloPoMo of '05 because nobody told me about it. Also, I'm not really sure that there even was one in '05. I missed out on the NaBloPoMo of '06 because I think I was busy doing stuff. However, I am now throwing my hat into the NaBloPoMo ring of '07. It's all very exciting.
I am doing this because A. I have been a fuck-all lazy blogger of late and 2. How in the world can I expect my movie star boyfriends to find me if I don't keep this blog updated on a regular basis. If Viggo Mortensen decides to find out who his girlfriend is this year, it's important that he get this information directly from me. If Gerard Butler wants to learn more about the size of his penis, then I feel that the particulars should come from someone who is willing to explore this topic in depth. If nothing else, I am a dedicated and loyal make-believe girlfriend.
I figure I'll run out of things to say by about mid-month, at which point I will commence posting pictures of kittens and lists of things that piss me off.