Category Archives: Whatever

Stripey C00kies

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My dad loved stripey c00kies. Not sure why I have a pic of these actually, but I found it while searching for something to poast for the “sweet” photo challenge and decided to use it instead of cupcakes (since I don’t feel like going through the gallery to check which cupcake pics I’ve used already). I still love stripey c00kies too. There’s just something so nostalgic and wholesome about them for me.

Wishing all my blogfans a happy Valentines Day!

~*~

Photo Challenge: Sweet

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Peeve Tuesday

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Last week I ordered a couple essentials from Amazon: cat food and hairspray. I order a lot of stuff from Amazon, a lot. They know who I am and where to find me. As does the clown who signed me up for Us Magazine ~ thanks a lot, dingdong. I don’t want it, I’m not interested in celebs, and it’s going straight to the trash. No one better bill me for it either! (Okay fine, I have been glancing through it, under protest. It’s very shiny.)

Anyway, I forgot my essentials were scheduled to arrive on Sunday because I was so wrapped up in watching The Big Game, as one does. But yesterday I thought, hey, where’s my stuffs? So, I did the tracky thing and lo found an exception. Amazon outsourced my delivery to USPS, who couldn’t get in.

Let’s think about this for a moment. The actual U.S. Post Office, who delivers my actual mail (rain or shine), didn’t know how to get into my apartment complex. WTF? How do they deliver my real mail then? No problem, I figured, I have an account with them, so I will contact them, give them my gate code (idiots), so they can redeliver.

Nope, nope, nope. Can’t do that. Only the sender can intercept. I could be some weirdo trying to steal someone else’s cat food and hairspray in the middle of the delivery. With my own log-in credentials where they have my real name, address, etc, and I’d be at risk of a felony for committing mail fraud. To steal cat food and hairspray. Yes, that could happen and the Post Office isn’t taking any chances. Can’t contact Amazon to give them the gate code to give to USPS because the transaction is now out of their hands. All gone, wheee!

The only thing for me to do is wait and see what happens. Either the USPS buttheads will redeliver my package properly or they’ll return it to Amazon, at which time I can ask them to use another delivery service, or pick it up myself at one of their stations. Luckily however on Monday (yesterday) the next USPS mailperson figured out how to get into my apartment complex (miracle!) and delivered my package.

I received an email notice at noon that my package had been “left with an individual.” An individual? What? Why? Who? I don’t even know any of my neighbors. Would I have to knock on doors saying, “Excuse me sir do you haz my cat food and hairspray?” Was not looking forward to this scenario. NOT AT ALL. Though it could be a romance novel cute meet… But this is real life, and I don’t meet men cutely, or in any way whatsoever. I just want my G.D. cat food and hairspray!

Why is life so hard? I want my mommy! Waaah!

In any case, I had to go out to dinner with friends last night and was forced to play a long complicated game that was sort of like… scrabble plus poker and… well, I can’t explain it, too weird, but it went on forever and I got home after 10PM… and guess what?

MY PACKAGE WAS RIGHT OUTSIDE MY DOOR!!!

What a week I’m having. And it’s only Tuesday.

 

Promptsoup

Holiday

It’s been an age since I’ve blarghed, though I’ve had plenty of ideas… they tend to loop around in my mind without ever making it to the page, eventually sinking down into the sludge of abandoned dreams. Who’s to say what causes one notion to blossom into a concept that demands my full attention? It’s a mystery!

I feel this writing lull is temporary and soon you, my dear and faithful readers, will be able to gorge on a sumptuous buffet of glorious essays and blissful pomes rather than these meager snippets, bites, and crumbs I’ve been parceling out like a blarghy Scrooge. You’ve been so saintly to continue to hang in there with me and I appreciate you all. ❤

Please let me know in comments what you’re up to during these jolly holidays. Traveling, baking, immersing yourself in a lit’ry or other masterpiece? Just working and/or hanging with your peeps? I can relate to that.

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The Daily Prompt: Relate

Honk

Honking

Most vehicular honking is stupid and pointless. People are just expressing outrage for a fait accompli. They’re mad that someone cut them off, so they honk. They’re frustrated that traffic isn’t moving, so they honk. This temper tantrum does nothing except create unnecessary noise and annoy me. The purpose of honking is supposed to be to warn someone to prevent a dangerous situation, not to express your childish feelings. It’s okay to tap your horn to remind someone to move if they’re distracted with their phone or radio. I’ve done that and vice versa. Don’t get me started on alarms.

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The Daily Prompt: Honk

Hater Dater Later Gator

Miss me?

While I was away someone told me about a dating site that matches people up by the things they hate, which sounds like a good idea because matching by likes is totes for 15 year olds.

Of course the thing I hate most is dating sites. And dating. So, already we’re in an infinite existential loop like when we program the system to put the catalog of catalogs in the catalog of catalogs. Or something.

Just in case you think I’m making this up in order to have something funny to blargh about (as if), here’s a link to the app.

And here’s an article that sorts hates by state. It’s a strange list. Then again… people. Right?

Whaddayagonnado.

In Which I Force Myself to Pay Attention

Some days I get down in the grumps and wonder why X keeps happening. Depending on the day/month/year, X could be any number of things. Which is why we’re using X…

I remember once thinking that I was really unlucky with tires and got way more flats than other people. Maybe there was something weird about the way I drove, like I was a nail magnet or something? When I mentioned that to the tire guy, he said, oh, everyone thinks they’re unluckier than normal about their tires. That was pretty funny. I haven’t had a flat since (now I will since I wrote this).

There are days I think I’m in horrible pain all the time, like this morning (when I was in horrible pain from a migraine with stabby neck throbs and nausea), but that’s not true. It just seems true when I’m suffering… and then when I’m not, I forget to notice. Why? Because though I have chronic pain, it’s actually normal for me not to be in horrible pain ~ there’s a difference, and it’s important to acknowledge this. I need to notice the times I feel OK, like now, and remember them.

I’ve said I’m a magnet for certain types of people, but I’ve noticed others saying the same thing. You know the types we mean ~ the drama royals, the narcissists, the nutcases. If you’re not one of these, and even if you are, you’ve surely encountered them. After a few instances, we announce, “I must be a magnet for them!” Well, no. But our interactions with the “types” are so much more vivid than our interactions with ordinary folks that we focus our attention on the types. Hence we decide we’re a magnet. If I force myself to recall more interactions, it turns out that I’ve had many more with ordinary people than with the types. They just aren’t as memorable.

At the risk of sounding a little bit woo, I need to focus my attention more on things that bring me pleasure (writing, good health, organizing plans, etc.) and less on things that make me unhappy (flat tires, horrible pain, the “types,” etc.) It’s just common sense.

Next up: crystals and aromatherapy.

~*~

The Daily Prompt: Magnet

Regarding Yelling

I’ve become very spoiled lately, living alone and leading such a quiet life, despite having a very vocal kitteh. The more time passes, the more I find I can’t tolerate any loudness. Perhaps it has something to do with the tinnitus (as discussed); or perhaps it’s just that I’m in the habit of indulging my own preferences only… and they run to the white noise varieties. During my childhood, my parents argued frequently and were in the habit of yelling at each other to the point where it seemed that violence was imminent (though it rarely ever came to that), and this was often scary for a little kid, though one does get used to things. However, one also gets used to the absence of such.

Nothing gets me in a bad mood faster than sustained bursts of noise. I find I’m unable to focus on anything else. Raised, angry voices literally make me cringe in fear, even if they have nothing to do with me. Saturday afternoon a group of young men appeared to be having an argument in the parking lot of my apartment complex, and I was scared to go out to my car. It was silly, but I began to worry they’d start physically fighting, even though there was no sign of this. I thought it could happen. They were nowhere near my car, but even so, I stayed inside for a while until they quieted down, and I was slightly late for my meeting ~ because I was afraid of nothing really.

Ironically, my meeting was in a public place, and it was loud there too, which eventually put me in a grumpy mood for a while until the crowd thinned out and the noise volume lowered. Geez, I’m such a crabby old lady now. Guess what? IDGAF about that. I like what I like… and more importantly, I dislike what I dislike.

Crabby-Single-Female

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The Daily Prompt: Cringe

Stuck in the Meddle with You

I don’t like to meddle, or even give advice really. I don’t know anything! But most people lurve to give advice… omg how they will tell you what you should do if you give them half a chance. Even if you don’t ask, they’ll tell you. Even if you obviously have it way more together than they do, they won’t hesitate to explain how you could do better. That’s just the way people are, or at least the ones I’ve encountered. I guess that’s a topic for another poast ~ the kinds of people who gravitate toward me. Yes.

But we’re here today to discuss meddling, since that’s the WOTD.

I’ve tried so hard to stay out of other people’s stuffs and yet… and yet… I know so much about other people’s stuffs. How did this happen? Why do people confide in me so often? It’s one of the biggest ironies of my life. Probably because I don’t meddle or even judge really. Why would I judge anyone, since I’ve made so many mistakes? I just sit there and listen, wondering why I’m so trusted, which is probably why. Weird!

It’s hard not to feel like you’ve meddled, even when you’ve only listened and agreed with what the person wanted to do all along. My standard “advice” is just hey don’t do what I’ve done, which is silly really since I’m not that bad off, I suppose. Sort of. Depending on your definitions. Whatever!

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The Daily Prompt: Meddle

Housekeeping Notes

A friend said that he had put new blog entries up recently, but I hadn’t seen them in my WordPress feed. I went back to look and this list happened.

  1. I found new blog poasts by other favorite bloggers that I had missed even though I go through my feed daily. Apparently what happens is that poasts are not always appearing as they are timestamped. You can’t assume that just because you read your feed new entries won’t pop in earlier in the line later. This is really annoying!
  2. But what you can do instead of reading your feed the usual way is click to the “manage” tab and sort your bloggers alphabetically. Then under each one it will say the last time they updated, which will give you a clue whether you read that entry or not (unless a blogger updates multiple times daily, eek). If there is no update statement, it’s fair to assume that someone hasn’t blogged in a while and you’re OK. This is sort of like the days of olde when we had the whozit list on the side.
  3. Of course you might not care enough to do that, in which case ignore item 2 above.
  4. If you are considering the switch to the “Managed Tab Feed Read” (MTFR), another positive benefit is that your feed won’t be cluttered with pictures and suggestions, so you get a nice, neat list of blogs instead of a huge pile of crapadoo.
  5. Blogs that are still on Blogger have a different kind of feed source and back in the day I C&P’d that into my WP reader. Sometimes it worked and sometimes it didn’t. I don’t know why! Apparently the friend whose poasts I was looking for (remember him? this is a song about him) was one of those bloggers and his poasts were not feeding right. That’s the best I can do for a hi-tech explanation here. (Need lizard halps.) Anyway, none of that matters now because WP has learned that most of us are idiots and has figured out how to grab the feed code itself. So, I searched for friend’s blog in the WP feed searchy bar; WP found it and added it, viola. I didn’t have to go poking around for XML or whatever the eff.
  6. I caught up with friend’s poasts and all is good.
  7. MY DAUGHTER IS GETTING MARRIED IN TWO MONTHS OMG OMG OMG.
  8. I highly recommend using the MTFR instead of the normal WP feed so as not to miss any bloggity goodness, especially if you have a lot of blogs in your feed (I have 279 at the mo). I needed to add this item because (a) I like to have 8 things, and (b) I had already defined MTFR and once you do that you have to use it.

That’s all.

Portland Memorial 2015

I’ve been a blogslacker lately and I don’t have an excuse. Today’s prompt word search brought up this photo from my trip to Oregon, and, as it turns out, it’s only a few days late for Holocaust Remembrance Day.

It was a very sobering experience to pay my respects at the memorial.

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The Daily Prompt: Roots