I Hate My Message Board » Humor

Remember yesterday when I broke out the Corey Hart

Tracy — Mon, 16 Nov 2009 17:30:50 +0000

If not, read this then come back

Good news, this morning they came and everything checked out so our gas is back on. Hooray for hot water and heat!

Bad news, I’m not exactly sure what happened but I think it’s because the water heater got turned to high, but there was a build up of pressure in the tank and the relief valve started leaking water. Good news, this prevented the tank from exploding.

How did I find this out? I was trying to fix the clogged garbage disposal and heard an ominous water sound from the basement and thought maybe the pipes were leaking again like they did last time the disposal got clogged.

NOPE.

I did figure out the problem and the leaking is almost all stopped now, just a trickle. It seems we might need to replace the valve now that it’s been engaged but it seems to be a cheap diy fix. THANK GOODNESS FOR SUMP PUMPS. And I did get the disposal unclogged.

Of course, while all this was going on, they that must never be unsupervised were unsupervised and got into the hot pink spackle wall fix-y stuff.

So I am sorry but I’m going to have to break out the big guns here

When the going gets tough, the tough say screw it and turn their living room into a dance party. Well, first they clean their kids, then they have a party.Similar Posts:

A Grown Up Hissy Fit

Tracy — Tue, 10 Nov 2009 19:34:36 +0000

Or, I have 3 or 4 upbeat posts in the works but it’s just not happening today so let’s get this out of my system, shall we?

I know I was just sick but it turns out I am sick again. Or a continuation of the other sick, who knows? The good news is I must not be that sick, because I still have the energy to be very, very grouchy. How grouchy?

Dear Leaves: I don’t understand why you have to be so FREAKING LOUD when you fall. I wasn’t going to tell you this, but that’s why people like snow better, because it is quiet. Maybe you should learn something from snow.
Dear Husband: I know I should have been irritated by this on Saturday when it happened, but it really didn’t hit me until today that I don’t like it when you reach across and honk my horn for me while I’m driving. I know that idiot bike driver shouldn’t have been in the middle of the street going 2 miles per hour, but I must insist that I retain sovereignty over my horn.
Dear people who don’t have anything against children but can’t stand it when parents don’t do anything about it: Please, I am begging you tell me exactly what you’d recommend I do. Because I am fresh out of ideas. My idea for you is that you take Bono’s advice and tonight thank God it’s me instead of you.
Dear Leaves: okay, I lied, I don’t know if most people prefer snow to you but I don’t feel bad about it because I had my reasons.
Dear Self: I know you thought it was a good plan to promise the kids a trip to the playground if they napped, but now they are napping and you don’t want to follow through because the leaves are too loud and hurt your head. How are we going to get out of this mess?
Dear Sonic: I hear you over there telling me hey, bring the kids to me for some happy hour cherry limeades! You won’t even have to get out of the car and they’ll forget all about the playground. Nice try. You are a sneaky little drive in restaurant, I’ll give you that.
Dear people who will be outside of the school today talking loudly on their bluetooth headsets about their personal business as they wait for their kids: You look crazy and from what I hear your lives are Springeresque messes. Just sayin’ is all.
By the way, if it is raining and you are in a crowded place with people trying to walk, you don’t need a stadium sized umbrella. Seriously, why do people do that? This is why they invented the raincoat so that you can keep yourself dry without poking people in the eye with your umbrella spokes.
Dear person looking for something on the floor of their car while driving 20 miles per hour on a 35 mph stretch of road and totally messing up my plans to turn left: While I’m not blaming you for my sickness, the extra stress today couldn’t have helped. I hope you aren’t reading this while driving, although I wouldn’t put it past you.
Dear kids: I can hear you up there playing and I think this lets me off the hook for my promise to take you to the playground. I will probably still take you anyway, even though it is most likely sending the wrong message, because it’s better you make a mess in nature than in my house.
Dear Self: Are you crazy? Hit publish and run upstairs and see what they are doing. Remember that mess with the lotion and oatmeal bath powder?!?!

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Groups I’m totally going to add to Facebook

Tracy — Mon, 26 Oct 2009 03:31:24 +0000

Or, I have declared myself a Facebook guru

photo credit _Max-B

Now that the How to be Rich and Happy fan page has fiftysixtupled in fans, I feel confident in saying I am the go to person when it comes to building your online community with Facebook. FIFTYSIXTUPLED! And it started out with zero and I’m sure the amount of increase can be expressed traditionally, as a percent-number but didn’t you hear the part where it started with zero and you can’t divide by zero and I’m pretty sure division is required for percents but that doesn’t matter because the ROI in social media can’t be adequately expressed in numbers, it’s about the conversation. Of which I’ve had many these days.

But not in the Random People That Join Groups Then Ignore Them Forever Group, I did join and I thought about leaving a pithy comment, oh yes I did, but then I thought to myself, oh no, this is not a random act of joking for you my friend, this, this is inspiration. You are a maven, you go out and show them that using the right strategies it is possible to start a group that grows conversation, that webs people into a connection force so sticky that Spiderman would weep at the quiet beauty of your weaving.

And here they are, in no particular, the first groups I shower-thought just now:

Dang Y’all!

Photo credit: telethon

For people who appreciate the versatility of this not really cussing, folksy phrase. It can be happy:

Dang! Y’all won’t believe who got into Yale!

It can be sad:

Dang y’all, I didn’t get into Hoboken Junior Community VoTech Institute

It can be excited:

Dang y’all! That’s my cousin on that high speed police chase on channel 4!

It can be what you say when there are no words:

Dang y’all, I mean,it’s just…dang.

It works as a mild curse:

Dang y’all I told you to cut it out!

I know it doesn’t seem like much of a theme or niche, but when you’re around people who say dang y’all a lot, the conversation just seems to flow naturally.

A Thousand Splendid Tracys

photo credit Wikipedia Commons/David Shankbone

It will start as a group for women named Tracy/Tracey/Traci/Tracie to gather and talk about what it’s like to have a name that ties you so strongly to a particular generation and fret a bit about what it will be like when Tracy is an old lady’s name, but not for too long, because if we are known for anything, we Tracys are known for being a peppy, can-do type of people.

There will be a small to medium bit of drama when the mostly black male Tracys accuse the mostly white(ish) female Tracys of excluding an entire class of Tracys but this will all be worked out with typical Tracy flair and there will be a few weeks of multicultural (but alas, not multi-generational) fun. This will end when the other Tracys accuse the Just-a-Y Tracys of being snobby and the Just-a-Y Tracys will seriously just not understand why they don’t all spell Tracy with just a Y to make life easier on everyone.

You might think starting a group you know will end badly is a mistake, but that’s why you are not a guru – dude, I can get 4 or 5 splinter groups out of this EASY.

Am I the only one who doesn’t care that…

Photo credit: SMN

This is where I get to offer a real service to people; I’ve been noticing when folks want to find other people on the internet who do not care for a particular thing, they are doing it all wrong. They go and find a group of people talking about that subject and that’s where they ask “Am I the only person who doesn’t care that…?” And what usually follows is a bit of bickering about who should care and why, which I’m sure was not what the not-carer was looking for.

“Am I the only person that doesn’t care that…” will be a safe place for people to gather and not care about things together, for whatever reasons they have for not caring.

I’m still on the fence on if I should make “Totally not on my radar” and “I have more important things to worry about” a part of “AITOPTDCR” or separate groups. Generally my philosophy is the more groups, the better but with this demographic I think I’ll need sheer numbers to keep the conversations going, what with them being so busy, not very attentive and not prone to caring. Probably I should wait to start this group until I get to expert guru level.

I would so kick their butt

Photo Credit: El Cabron

Have you ever read or heard about something happening to somebody or their girlfriend or kid or dog or package from UPS and thought to yourself, I might seem like just an ordinary grocery store manager or stay at home mom or high school student but if that had happened to me/my girlfriend/my kid/my UPS package I would have totally kicked some butt. Sure, it might not be the “prudent” thing to do, or even very “admirable” but me, I can’t help it, somebody messes with me/my girlfriend/my kid/my UPS package and I don’t know man, I just see red and I can’t control myself. It’s like the Momma Bear/Poppa Bear/Baby Bear/Post Office Employee circa 1980s comes out and next thing I know there’s a guy on the floor and people in a circle just looking at me like, dang y’all see that?

It hasn’t happened in an actual outside of my head way yet, but I have thought about it and yes, if it comes down to it, I will totally kick butt to protect myself/my girlfriend/my kid/my UPS package and I’m not afraid to say so. In fact, I often tell people who have had these things happen and didn’t kick butt just what I would do, so if it ever happens to them again, they will know how I would have handled the situation and act accordingly. Even though I’m an ass-kicker, I’m also a giver, you know? In fact, where’s “The people that know me, they’ll tell you I’m a giver” group?

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Mondays are for Rambling

Tracy — Mon, 12 Oct 2009 17:27:56 +0000

Or, if the possibility of a rambling post with no point doesn’t draw you in, I don’t know what will

Kir and I saw these folks dancing outside of Winchester Farmer's Market Yesterday. A guy handed me a card that said you can hire them for parties. It's not a party unless you have a motley collection of dancing characters!

The first order of business is that I have a problem and I’d like your help with it. See, I’m going to be asking you all to vote for me in the Sam-E Good Mood Blogger competition but since I just started the whole Copyblogger Internet Marketing for Smart People email course I have no freaking clue how to do it.

Because I could just ask, but this is a 5K a month gig, y’all! I need to be snazzy!

My default mode is self-deprecating humor of the neurotic variety, but I’m wondering if this is the right time to bring out the whole “confident” persona I’ve been working on? It’s kind of risky, so maybe I should stick with what I know but at the same time it’s been known to backfire on me and people think I actually mean “oh shucks, don’t vote for me, vote for the people that really deserve it” when I say it. I know, bizarre, right?

So please tell me how to best to convince you that I would be the most awesome mood blogger that ever blogged and we will proceed from there.

By the way, my pals Sean and George are also going for this job. They are remarkably low drama, which is a shame, because I think the best way to get people interested in this contest and voting is to make it a total trainwreck with blood and guts everywhere and the last person standing wondering if it was all worth it. And then they’d get the check and be all like “Awww heck yeah!”

Maybe that should be my slogan – Vote for Tracy – Happily Instigating for your Reading Pleasure since 1974!

Meanwhile, we’re eagerly waiting for entries for our Scary Product Contest. I’ve been promised some good stuff, so don’t let me down!

Also, I was joking when I posted on Hunter Nuttal’s site about writing a book called “Trample not the Mind Ninja” but am slowly coming around to the idea that the world kind of needs me to write this book. I’m toying with the idea of doing it for that NaNoWriMo but instead of it being a novel, it will be about the project I pitched to life coach to the stars, Tim Brownson.

Okay, here’s what we’re going to do. I see Tony Robbins is getting his own show.

Also, I see that shows featuring one snarky English judge are VERY popular.

Also, people like competition.

So, we are going to pitch the idea of Life Judge to all the networks. It will be me (I’ll be the slightly daffy “nice one” also I am Asian so I add diversity), you (the English one) and John (hope he doesn’t mind being the “Randy” of our group). And we’ll have contestants come up and tell us their life stories and we’ll choose I dunno, 8 or something and put them in a mansion and FIX THEM. Sort of like biggest loser, but instead of losing weight, they will be losing FALSE BELIEFS and gaining INSIGHT.

And if we can’t fix them, we’ll EXPLOIT THEM.

Everybody wins on Life Judge, even the screwed up famewhores! Especially us!

So you can see, even if I don’t win Good Mood Blogger, I’ve got a lot up my sleeves. But still, you should vote for me because even if I don’t win, I want to get more than 4 votes or I will start to doubt myself and the rest of you will have to put up with it. I’m talking 2000 word, majorly introspective emails on a daily basis here.

(was that one good? Too needy? Arrogant? I NEED direction here people!)

Finally, if you haven’t already, check out my review of How to be Rich and Happy and my interview with the authors, Tim Brownson and John P. StreleckySimilar Posts:

11 Reasons I sometimes but not always dislike doing list posts

Tracy — Thu, 08 Oct 2009 03:46:08 +0000

Or, who knew bloggers had homework?

First, I’d like to give a warm welcome to anyone here from the Problogger community. Anyone here from Problogger? It’s a great community isn’t it? A lot of really interesting people post there, just a wealth of information to be had. Fine, fine people, give yourselves a hand!

But what is up with the community challenge? Write a list post, okay, I get it, it’s something that works in all genres, people like lists, but I was kind of hoping Darren would get up there and say “Right then, kumquat, finagle, opossum and jurisprudence. Write a post containing all of these words and nobody tell the rest of the internet what we’re up to. G’day mates!”

Because you know, I could do that, I’m feeling that. I’m just not feeling list-y today. Lots of reasons why.

1. I never know how many items constitutes a good and reasonable list

Vaguely remember reading somewhere that it’s not 10 and 2 is just a couple and 3 is a few, and in my mind a couple and a few aren’t really a list. You just don’t get any momentum with a couple and a few. On the other hand four is evenly divided by 2 and that just doesn’t appeal to me. 5 seems okay and is the exception to my aversion to odd numbers but 6 is more than 5. 7 is a lucky number except I read that somewhere with a lot of people it is inauspicious. I can’t afford to lose any readers! 8 seems like the chartered accountant of numbers, solid but also dreadfully dull. 9? Well if you’re going to do 9 then why not an even 10? Oh yeah, because I think I remember 10 is not good. And 11 is just taking the piss, who’d read that much?

It occurs to me I could have made a very good list just typing out the numbers and an argument for and against each one. I’ll put that in my ideas file.

2. Am conflicted on how to format a list

Do I use the numbered list function in WordPress? Headlines? Where do indents come in? Are bullet points extra-scannable?

3. Everyone knows list posts are popular

I know because I’ve read it on all the list posts on how to get retweeted, linked, bookmarked and Facebooked. So now whenever I do a list post I feel like there is a group there over in the corner mumbling about how they liked me back before I got popular by selling out and doing list posts. 4/5 of them only heard about me yesterday.

4. Lists are so high school

Just like everything else on the internet! Except me, I’m all grown up and mature and crap.

5. One item is always neglected in comments

There will be all sorts of agreement and discussion about the other items. Oh yes, I totally agree 2, that happens to me all the time. 7 is right on the money, you nailed it! One thing I’d like to add on to 4 is…. But poor number 3 is just hanging out there, getting no love and it kind of makes you second guess yourself. Were you wrong to include it? Is it just not worthy of your list?

Then the righteous indignation sets in and you curse the world for being blind to just how brilliant number 3 really is. For you, YOU were just like unappreciated item 3 in high school. And those bastids still can’t see how special you really are.

6. Everyone wants to add their own item

Blah blah blah you left out this, you should have mentioned that, where is so and so. I’ve read on some “expert” blogs that you should thank your commenters for their feedback and adding to the conversation because everyone has something to offer. That’s not how I work. I didn’t sign up for this gig not to be a narcissistic tyrant. Adoration, that’s what I signed up for, pure 100% unquestioning adoration.

7. Lists progress in an orderly fashion

One, two, three, four, A, B, C, D…it’s that sort of linear thinking that the man wants to encourage in us to keep us down.

Think about it.

Just think about it.

8. Not conducive to tangents

Sometimes in the middle of a post I want to stop and talk about how JERKS who honk at me at intersections are IMPATIENT FOOLS who don’t value SAFETY. People tend to want lists to be a collection of related things and if you don’t deliver, they shake their heads and walk away.

And then go off to blow their horns at people who just like to be really, really sure before they make a left turn.

9. I dislike favoritism

I haven’t figured out a way to give each item an equal number of words and space and that makes me feel guilty.

10. Once I wrote a list called “A bunch of random items”

It was from a meme. Oddly enough, it gets search traffic as does 5 things I’m addicted to. Who are these people searching for “list of random things”? I wish they would comment on the post and tell me what they wish they would have found so that I can better serve my core audience of people searching on the internet for truly bizarre things like “hate giving up on people but I’m afraid I have to” and “why do I secretly hope all my friends fail?”

Another list post I did that gets search traffic is 5 Super Creepy Songs.

I guess I do like the part about making lists where I get to shamelessly self promote.

11 I always forget one item

Because I write the title first and then commit to a certain number but then I get to that number and realize dang, I forgot the last thing. So I just make something up. Usually something life affirming, people eat that positive crap up.

So remember LIST stands for Life Is Super Terrific!Similar Posts:

Since we seem to add a family member every two years

Tracy — Mon, 05 Oct 2009 01:29:26 +0000

Or, some people are really inappropriate y’all!

Princess Leia

I wasn’t really looking for a dog when I went to the Farmer’s Market yesterday, but there was the cutest dachshund mix puppy there, you should have seen it, he just curled right up to me just like a newborn people baby and so I asked about adopting him and the rescue lady pretty much said “Oh no, you can’t have this puppy, your children would break him but come look at this dog.”

And so I went just to be polite since I had my heart set on this puppy but when she walked me over to this labrador/possibly spaniel mix it was love at first sight. Or rather, love at the way she just walked right over to me, rolled over and asked me to scratch her belly. How could you say no to that? Seriously, this is the best dog ever, she’s so calm and playful yet not hyper and obedient and quiet and goes potty outside on command, just a perfect specimen of dog.

We let the kids name her and Princess Leia was my 5 year old’s suggestion. So yes, anyone who was thinking about naming your kid Leia it is now officially a dog name.

After I filled out the adoption application I was so excited I bcc’d a ton of people, some of whom I’d put down as references so I asked them to totally lie if the rescue called and asked if I was a good and responsible person. And what does Mr. Blogger Dad say? I’ll totally break blogger email privilege and tell you what Mr. Blogger Dad said:

If they call me, I will totally say that you LOVE dogs. You have one every night for dinner. Selling dogs at a farmer’s market, even! How convenient!

And I was like oh man you are wrong for that and felt sorry for Blogger Mom until I checked on my husband’s Facebook and saw this:

Who would give a Korean a dog at a farmers market anyway ? Don’t they know anything about stereotypes ?

So guess which two people are TOTALLY and FOREVER cut out of my BCC list? Oh yes, there will be tears, many bitter tears, but I will be too busy enjoying my new little princess to be bothered my their wailing.

By the way, check out the collar, pink. PINK! Finally some estrogen around this place!

ETA: In case it’s not obvious, Blogger Dad was joking with me and I was joking back, as friends do. He didn’t even think about the connection between me being Korean and dog eating until I shared with him what my husband said. Now I feel awful because somebody decided to take it on themselves to go to Blogger Dad’s site and call him a bigot. If you’re going to talk that crap to somebody, tell it to me. I’m the one that posted those jokes.

Good gravy (not made from cats or dogs)Similar Posts:

Friday Photo Fun

Tracy — Fri, 25 Sep 2009 23:19:19 +0000

Or, I didn’t spell it Phriday Photo Phun because I am very classy and intellectual

Scary dolls, Walgreens

You can click the pictures to enlarge

I can’t tell you the details yet, because I don’t know all the details yet and most importantly we don’t have a logo yet but there is going to be a contest! A big contest! A fun contest! And pretty much it’s going to involve you going out and finding scary crap like this!

About the dolls, I don’t mind telling you I ran away from them as fast as possible to run backwards (because you really do not want to turn your back on evil dolls) in Walgreens. Is that place ever fully stocked? Every time I go it seems each aisle has one of those grey rolling stock carts in it, but nobody is actually putting anything on shelves. It is most peculiar.

Pink douchemat, from Germany somewhere or maybe the Netherlands.

Hehehe, I got a douchemat in the mail today from my mother. And yeah, you know what, I am preemptively pissed off that one person is going to say in comments “You know douche doesn’t mean the same thing in Dutch as it does in English don’t you? Why are you so immature? Why can you not be all serious like me and not care if other people think you are more anal than an enema nozzle and half as funny?”

To be fair, the Dutch word for bath mat could be almost anything and it would still be funny. Dutch is just inherently funny like that. It is just as well that Dutch people are universally really nice and easy going. They should have a nice and easy going competition with the Jamaicans, that would be funny. They’d just sit there all being chill and the rest of us bastids would run around trying to get them to lose their tempers.

But you know, we’d probably just get all competitive and it would get ugly and physical and the Dutch and Jamaicans would still be having a great time being pleasant together. There is probably a life lesson in here somewhere, but I’ve no time to find it, we have more pictures.

Chubby kid soda found at Winchester Farmer's Market grocery store Memphis

Yeah, and this is why your kid’s so fat, too! I didn’t buy any of the chubby kid soda, there are just some things I won’t do. Unless you promised me I’d get 10K page views for a chubby kid soda review, then I’d do it. But you know only to be educating the public about that crap, because I care.

So, you know, I’m not trying to say too much but if I were you and I happened to see something really scary/wtf and I liked winning totally bogus prizes for dubious bragging rights, I’d probably go ahead and buy that sucka or at least take a photo.Similar Posts:

SlimCado, A Review

Tracy — Sat, 19 Sep 2009 01:42:55 +0000

Or, this post was not sponsored or commissioned by the SlimCado Association of America. Duh.

A SlimCado, chosen not for beauty but perceived ripeness

Do you like avocados but wish they weren’t so full of luscious, luscious fat? Does your guacamole leave you rolly-polly? Does your scale sob after you eat a Cobb (salad)? If so, the SlimCado could be the answer for you! With half the fat and 35% fewer calories it’s just like an avocado only less so. Much, much less so.

I will admit I only bought the SlimCado because I am very bad at planning and didn’t have any ripe avocados for tonight’s chicken taco dinner (which by the way was delicious). The Haas avocados I usually buy were all rock hard and although these looked more like I think maybe a papaya* would look, they were ripe and so I bought two.

It seems that the fat in the SlimCado has been replaced with water. Lots and lots of water. I don’t know how they possibly could fit that much water into a single fruit without it leaking all over the place. Genetic modification? Please nobody tell me that I ate something spliced with camel genes because I will spontaneously explode and ignite.

The weird thing is, you get these vague, fleeting tastes of a real avocado but before you can savor it, it’s gone. It was like the taste equivalent of trying to remember a word or name. Elusive. Frustrating. So close, you know it’s there but when you think you’ve finally got it, it’s washed away. It wasn’t bad, I didn’t gag or feel the need to brush my teeth it was just unsatisfying. Like drinking a watered down coke on a hot day or eating at Applebees.

What a SlimCado looks like on the inside

There are probably many fine uses for a SlimCado. You could put it in a smoothie instead of a banana (that’s what this one is destined for, after I took the picture I put the sides back together and wrapped it in saran wrap and put it in the freezer). Or you know those recipes for brownies made of avocado instead of butter? You could use a SlimCado! Just don’t do it with those brownies with black beans in it, because that’s just taking things too far. Or you could serve it to your kids and spouses so you can have all the real avocados for yourself! So it’s not totally useless.

You know, I probably would have liked it if they called it another name. Like Alligator Egg Fruit. Then I wouldn’t have been thinking of the rich, succulent flesh of an avocado but would have been able to judge it on its own merits. I might have thought it light and refreshing and dreamed of making batches of Alligator Egg Bread with the overripe fruit. Or Alligator Egg pudding with something like vanilla wafers but much fancier. Maybe organic vanilla wafers. Or French vanilla wafers. Something fancy like that.

To tie this all together with a very important life lesson, it occurs to me that you can learn a very important lesson from the SlimCado, do you want to be half as much as somebody else or do you want to be 100% you? Sure, you can ride on their coattails but will you really be able to stand up to that kind of scrutiny? Or do you want to be the one that sets the standards for what makes you remarkable? I think we know the answer to that.

You can learn a lot from a fruit, if only you take the time to sit and blog about the fruit and realize you probably should end with something better than “do not buy this” because people don’t like negativity, they like very important life lessons. Which I deliver, because I am a very good blogger and interpreter of fruit.

P.S. I am going to see the Dalai Lama speak on Wednesday so do not be surprised if that’s the last you’ll hear from me because I fully expect to be whisked off to Tibet.

*I try not to think of papayas so have forgotten how they look. Fun tidbit, about once a week somebody lands on this blog after searching for “papayas taste like vomit”.Similar Posts:

My ear itches on the inside

Tracy — Sun, 13 Sep 2009 03:16:04 +0000

Or, yet another tale of woe

Not my actual ear, but see that tunnel to the left? That's where my ear itches

Photo credit: windelbo

This itch in my ear canal has been going on for several weeks now but I won’t Google. Oh no, I will not Google for I know better than that. You see, on the internet all ear canal itches are caused by:

Some sort of burrowing or tunneling insect
Cancer
Atopic dermatitis that can only be cured by a raw foods diet or application of breast milk (on the internet all things can be cured by raw foods, breast milk or in some cases, kefir)
The eggs of some sort of insect, not necessarily of the burrowing or tunneling variety, perhaps accidentally deposited

And you know, call me foolish but I think I’d rather just peacefully pass away one day after some insect has successfully dug a hole straight through my brain than to live with the knowledge that such a thing existed. In my body. Where I also live. Yeah, no way, so while it might just be a little irritation that some hydrocortisone cream would clear right up, I’m not taking the chance that it’s a Amazonian tunneling knife worm.

So maybe I’ve got a little touch of the hypochondria, but at least I know when Google is not my friend. Sometimes, you just have to wait and the problem goes away by itself which so far hasn’t happened with my itchy ear. On the other hand, and don’t read this if you are uncomfortable knowing I have nipples (ahem, that means my brother if he is reading this), the other day I was getting ready for a shower and chanced to undress right in front of the mirror. Now, I am not one who generally stands there and stares at myself naked in the mirror but I looked down and my nipples had these little patches of black on them. Way too much information, but it looked like some sort of nipple mildew. I’m a regular bather and air myself out frequently, so I knew it wasn’t likely to be literal mildew but I remembered that irregular discoloration of moles is a very bad sign indeed.

Of course, I started getting really upset, wondering if this was some sort of odd rapid onset of skin cancer or a presentation of breast cancer I’d never heard of or an autoimmune disease. Scerloderma! I don’t know what that is, but it’s always a possibility on House. All I know was that I had five young children and a husband and I was too young to die dammit, but if I was going to, I should probably start thinking of some touching project or book to do before it happened, because as much as I love him I don’t think it would occur to my husband to write a memoir about me and how I taught him how to love and live.

You know, it’s very tricky to write a book in which you’re the one teaching somebody how to love and live without sounding like a pretentious twit, but mildew-esque black spots on the nipples gives you that right, I think.

In the meantime, I didn’t think staying dirty would solve anything so I hopped in the shower and behold the black spots rinsed away and I remembered I’d slept in a black t shirt that night. Oh dear, that was slightly embarrassing. But it goes to show sometimes you just have to live life and let things sort themselves. Unless you have mildew-esque black patches that don’t rinse off in the shower, then you really need to get to the doctor sometime today.

Back to my ear, no amount of showering has helped and I’ve made tentative swipes around the edges with a cotton swab but no deeper because I don’t want to pack down my ear wax. I’m really suspicious of all those holes in my body and how disconcertingly permeable they all are. What sort of barrier is there between the ear canal and the brain anyway? A membrane? That’s not going to cut it I’m afraid.

So many career choices have been taken from me because of my refusal to learn human (or any other) anatomy. Perhaps it’s empowering to you to know where your liver is, but unless the answer is on a cushion made of angel’s farts locked in a steel safe in Fort Knox, I don’t want to know where mine is. It would only worry and distress me. I mean, it’s just there, in your body, hanging out, probably right on top of some other organ you really need, like your pancreas or something. How do they keep from jostling into each other? Just one day your kidney slams into your colon and bam! Peritonitis. Gangrene. Wandering uterus.

And I have noticed that people do seem to be able to walk around without their organs exploding or falling out but it all seems terribly vulnerable to me and I’d rather not know any more than I need to. This afternoon, my baby was sitting on my lap and pointed at a part of my neck. My husband said “that’s a sinew!” and I was trying to be brave and not give the kids issues but “Stop! Don’t say that!” came out of my mouth and I started doing that crying and nervous laughing thing I do when I remember that I have sinews and tendons and probably cartilage and viscous fluids and orifices and my throat clenched shut and my stomach churned.

And he laughed at me! Him! The man I taught to love and live and was planning on writing an international best seller for describing same so that he could pay for the kid’s daycare and probably take women out for dates with the royalties was laughing at my inability to deal with sinews. That is really not cool and if he does it again I shall deposit Malaysian digging beetle larva in his ear and laugh.

Okay I will not because I would spontaneously explode if I found out I’d kissed a guy who went on to have bugs in his ears, but I’d think about it. Twice.
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Persuing Perfection Produces Paranoia

Tracy — Tue, 25 Aug 2009 18:13:33 +0000

Or, I am alliterate

My children on a walk in the forest. Photo included to add proof that despite my neurotic ramblings I am a good mother who provides her children with recreational activities in nature like a good mother (which is what I am) does.

I can hear those of you who know me snorting and saying “Yeah, right, you? Pursuing perfection? Don’t you only iron the front of your shirts because you figure you can blame the back being wrinkled on being buckled in the car?” And yes, that is true, but that’s just because to me wrinkles aren’t imperfections, they are texture and texture adds interest. There are some things that are important to me and when I fall short it makes me feel like the world is getting a picture of me that is based on the reality of my life and not the idealized version, which is actually the truth of who I am.

Yesterday I was going to the playground with the little boys and realized I needed more coffee. No wait, strike that, I wanted more coffee, I did not need it because I am no slave to caffeine and any headaches and grouchiness are purely coincidental. Around the corner from the playground is an independently owned coffee shop and I thought to stop there but when I drove by the parking lot was packed and suddenly the idea of unstrapping the two boys from their car seats and making our way inside and trying to order while corralling the boys with my feet and then making our way back outside and safely to the van and then strapping them back in became daunting. Nay, overwhelming and I drove past the coffee shop and to the Starbucks drive through.

And as I sat in that drive through line I mused to myself this is not who I am really, because I am:

A supporter of local business!
NOT too lazy to get out of my car and walk!
Able to properly control and contain my children! Who respect me because of my loving enforcement of reasonable boundaries!
Capable of making BETTER coffee AT HOME for LESS!

Except there I was in the drive through but I quickly decided this was an aberration brought on by PMS and really it’s not my fault that the other shop had no drive through and an inadequate parking lot and who in the heck were all those people getting coffee at 10 am on a workday? Shouldn’t they be at work? So you see I really had no choice. I blame the economy.

We get to the playground and I’m there sipping on my venti sweetened ice coffee with milk and I get to talking with this lady who’d just come back to town after living in Portland for a few years and we’re talking about free cultural activities and public transportation and community involvement here versus there and while I’m enjoying the conversation I keep looking at my Starbucks cup and thinking:

My beverage is revealing me as a fraud. A fake! A POSEUR! Venti sweetened ice coffee with milk is not the beverage of the person I am wanting to present myself as being!

But you know, I guess it was fine. She didn’t ask me for my phone number but she did say “see you around”, which sounds hopeful doesn’t it? Like she liked me anyway despite my suspect beverage choices? She looked a lot like Chloris Leachman which makes it doubly important that she be my new playground friend. And if you don’t understand why that should be, I think you are probably reading the wrong blog because who wouldn’t want a friend that looks like a young Chloris Leachman?

There are folks that would say that it’s a waste of time to worry about what other people are thinking about you, but I’m not so sure I’d agree. It seems to me that you can learn a lot about yourself by what you are worried that other people will think and progress accordingly. Obviously, you’re never going to be able to let everyone in the world in on the fascinating backstory that is you but maybe you can use the collision between fantasy you and reality you to build a better future you.

I think my future me is going to have an exciting career as the person who makes up biographies for people entering the witness protection program. Could there be a more ideal career for me? Doubt it!Similar Posts: