In an effort to distract myself from the horrible sadness that always falls upon me right about…NOW… every Christmas, I decided to check the sites that refer other people to my blog. It’s not something I really pay attention to very much because, well, obviously it’s kind of boring. But occasionally, it’ll lead me to some rad blogs I didn’t know existed.
Today, though, it lead me somewhere else.
Back to my very own about.me page.
You don’t know what an about.me page is? Me either. Not really. But I saw someone on The Twitter talking about it a couple of months ago and I was all IMMA GET ME AN ABOUT.ME PAGE, YO to my mirrored reflection. I didn’t know what it was then (it was in beta, which I think means “super awesome”) and I had to wait until this week to be told, “your about.me page is ready, yo.”
Then, I was all, I GOT AN ABOUT.ME PAGE, YO, and everyone was all, what the hell is an about.me page, Aunt Becky? And I was all, *shrugs* I don’t read fine print. I thought I’d figure it out when I got there. Which is my motto for life.
About.me was all, look at these other deep/meaningful profiles to help you make yours, Aunt Becky, except they weren’t like actually talking to me because that would be awkward. So I did, because obviously, and I was all, UGH, really? Because I am anything BUT deep/meaningful. And frankly, if you want someone to click on your profile, you should probably put something fucking INTERESTING on it. Calling yourself a “social media anything” is decidedly not interesting.
I think you can click to enlarge. If you can’t, CLICK THE LINK and it’ll take you to my actual about.me page.
Anyway, it’s clearly not something you should ever take seriously.
So I signed up and mostly forgot about it. I’ve been excruciatingly busy this week (year) and really, I couldn’t figure out what to do with it beyond open it and laugh.
Upon checking my referrals, though, I noticed something FRIGHTENING. About.me had more referrals to my blog than “John C. Mayer,” “sweater kittens,” “boring things,” and “sweater boobs,” COMBINED. I swear to you, Pranksters, I haven’t laughed that hard in weeks. Somehow, people are landing on my about.me and finding their way here.
Sometimes, I really, really love the Internet.
Merry Christmas, Pranksters. From my about.me page.
And this guy:
And who could forget this lovable chap?
Why, it’s Mr. Sprinkles, my fake dead cat! That charming scamp! That lovable lout!
And speaking of charming:
Alex and his Cupcake shirt, FOR THE WIN!
Benner and his picture smile.
And my daughter, Amelia, who has reminded me that even in the darkest darkness, there is always light.
**Editor’s note: This thing’s been sitting in drafts since January… So when I was looking for something a little less heavy for the site, I thought it fit the bill nicely. Please enjoy some random silliness!**
You are seeing this because you need to see something fun, kinda sparkly, and full of magic. Also, kittens. We got you, boo
I would ride this thing everywhere. EVERYWHERE..
Sugar on sugar on sugar!
sparkly.
Oh Em Gee, the cute.
More sparkle?
First, we party…
then we cuddle!
Then we find someone else to clean up the fUckiNg kItcHEN JEFF!
Don’t look at me like that. Don’t judge me.
But I will judge you, thanks.
And here’s a balloon full of my exhalations. Enjoy!
**Heads up, this post was submitted when the pandemic was just ramping up…sorry it took so long to post!**
Hey The Band,
I’ve been confined with my very sweet and very trying children for about 18 days now (but who’s counting) and we have no idea how long all of this will go on. I know many of you are in the same situation.
The first week was HARD. School was cancelled abruptly and my oldest child had a very hard time with the change in routine. Think epic screaming & crying over very benign things for several days, most of the day. They were stressed and everything was too much for them. I felt much the same way, mostly due to the constant screaming, but I refrained from laying on the floor kicking and crying (in front of the kids, anyway). I did resort to screaming (in the garage) and drinking whiskey (in the kitchen) the night the school district cancelled school for 6 weeks.
Then there came one beautiful moment in the afternoon where I was washing dishes and my children were not screaming. It was a lovely 5 minutes and I decided to peek around the kitchen corner to see what they were playing. To my dismay, it was a game called “alarm clock” invented by the 7 year old, where in the 3 year old is instructed (forced?) to say “beep beep” and the 7 year old smacks the 3 year old in the face, to press the snooze then start over again. The 3 year old did not want to say “beep beep” any longer but desperately wanted to play with the 7 year old. Now, I love that my oldest child appreciates the utility of a snooze button, but smacking the 3 year old in the face does not fall under “nice games to play” in my book. We had a talk about consent and making sure that everyone is having fun while playing and NOT SMACKING PEOPLE IN THE FACE! Did I mention that this was when they were getting along?
So anyway, things have been up and down and we are trying to get into some sort of routine with learning at home. Things are still dicey, but we are finding some moments to play and connect. I’m no longer freaking out that everything is shutting down and I’m no longer obsessively checking the news and Facebook (at least not today). I’m settling into the idea that this is going to be going on for a lot longer than I originally anticipated and our state will probably cancel school for the rest of the year. This makes me very, very sad.
We have many things to be grateful for, we are healthy and have toilet paper and bread and a house and a yard and those are not small things right now. This doesn’t change that we are all stressed, I’m worried about my grandparents, and it feels like society is falling apart. I have friends with compromised immune systems and young children, friends with mental health struggles, and my own family’s mental health struggles that we’ve been slogging through for the past year and long awaited therapy and psych appointments- that I fought tooth and nail for- that have been postponed indefinitely. I find myself cocooning into my own space and my own family to escape the stress of everything going on outside of my control. I’m an introvert. I like a lot of time alone (not that I’m getting much of that these days), but too much time in my own head and the hobgoblins come out. I’ve never been good at connecting with people, really, or maintaining friendships. Socializing is freaking stressful for me, if there is more than one other person to talk to. However, for me connecting with the larger world in some way, shape, or form keeps me grounded. It reminds me that people aren’t all bad, that I’m not all bad, that there is hope and that some things will be salvageable.
My dose of happy today came from one very small act. A mom who lives nearby posted in a Facebook group that her son was turning 2 and she was so sad that she had to cancel his birthday party. Someone suggested that we organize a happy birthday parade and all drive by their house honking and singing happy birthday at the top of our lungs. I wrote “Happy Birthday!” on some paper and the kids colored pictures to tape to the car. We tied a couple balloons to the side view mirrors and joined a parade of about 6 cars, honking and singing to one very happy looking little boy and his family smiling from their front lawn. It was small, but it was something, and my kids and I needed a reason to celebrate, no matter how small. It was fun.
I heard a quote the other day “We are all in the gutter, but some of us are looking at the stars.” I’m not looking at the stars yet, and I don’t intend to forget that I’m in the gutter, but every once in a while I’m going to try to look up.
I hope you can find a way to do that too.
P.S. Google tells me the quote is from Oscar Wilde
This is my first post here. I’m just going to jump right into it.
It all started two years ago when I met a guy. He was a friend of a good friend of mine. I developed a crush on him. I started having dreams – sweet dreams – about him. These dreams resulted in more dreams. Now, I have lost count of how many I’ve had. In the latest one we were in the backseat of a car and I had my head in his lap and he was holding my hand.
It was perfect.
Yesterday I found out he’s moving away; he didn’t tell me where.
I cried for half the day. I don’t even know him very well. We’ve never really hung out socially alone before. I’ve only seen him at parties my friend has thrown. I know it must seem a little crazy to have all these dreams about someone I barely know, but I think we have some sort of connection. Now we’ll never be able to explore that.
Not to say I haven’t tried. Boy, have I! I’ve contacted him several times on Facebook…once I worked up the nerve. He was hard to reach because I didn’t have his cell number, which I finally got from our mutual friend. She didn’t exactly approve of my crush on him at first but she came around eventually.
I did get in touch with him on Facebook. He said he didn’t want to give me the wrong idea that it would be a long-term thing…which was what I’d wanted.
So now I feel horrible. I can’t make him not move, and if I tell him what I just told you, it will scare him away.
I know it’s just a crush, but it feels like so much more. It’s like my heart is being ripped in two…as cliche as that sounds. I know there has to be someone out there for me. I’m tired of hearing, “It will happen when you least expect it.”
I’ve been concerned with their drinking for a couple years, but it seems they have also become concerned with their drinking now – they said they don’t feel they can just “cut back” on their alcohol intake.
They’ve never lost a job or been arrested, but they spend most of their waking hours at home drinking beer; I’m concerned about the effects it has on their health, our budget, and our family.
They are drinking or asleep or grumpy most of the time and they don’t seem to be enjoying any of it.
They aren’t interested in doing anything aside from drinking, working, or sleeping.
I know I have zero control over if they actually quit or get help.
We’ve been together for well over a decade and we have young kids.
My spouse is a wonderful fucking person – that’s why I married them, and I know they can recover from their addiction if they commit to it and get help, I’m just not sure if/when quitting is going to happen.
To be fair I drank a lot too, when we first met, but I quit binge drinking after college and only drink rarely or at social events.
Here are my questions:
Is it possible to have a healthy family life with a functional alcoholic?
How do I help my spouse and not become codependent?
Please share this around – we are none of us alone; we are all connected. You never know who’s lives you’ll change with your words.
This post comes courtesy of an OG friend who lives in Sweden; it’s a good taste about how life is around the world, plus she promised to eat any mayo I send her way (I LOATHE mayo)
As for now, me? I’m not coughing, and I’m not REALLY sick.
Just a slight fever (37.9 in real money (degrees Celsius), which is what, 150 in your weird measures? or is that for baking muffins?), and a higher resting heart rate than usual – and way high as soon as I do something. Like go upstairs.
Takes me 10 minutes to catch my breath after such strenuous exercise.
I’m not all alone though. My daughter moved home a couple of months ago – bipolar and a masters in biology with remote studies didn’t really work out, despite how much she loves biology.
She’s got a slight cough, now and then, but again, not very bad.
We sent my partner to his flat in the next town over on the 12th of March and it seems like he got out before we got infected, thank BoB.
He’s 25 years older than I am (and I’m 52 soon), so he’s more at risk.
I’ve been working from home since the 14th, had some minor niggles last week, but the fever hit on Saturday.
So now I’m going to work a little less, I suppose, and nap more.
I’m so glad I brought my work set up home – big screen, keyboard, “mouse” which is a big stick in a holder that you spin and slide along… I think it’s called a Bar Mouse, which frankly is awesome.
Cheers, Mouse!
So that’s comfortable.
Only nuisance is that being 160 cm tall (5’3”? maybe?) and having a desk that doesn’t lower, means that the chair is at it’s absolute top level (at least I have that, right?) and a foot stool that’s the hight of my sofa to keep my legs from dangling.
And nobody there to watch how funny that looks…
And work… we’re in the medical device industry, but since no planned surgery goes ahead ANYWHERE, sales have tanked.
And for emergency/trauma, people can survive without our products, even if they’d benefit… So.
Management are cutting their salaries by 20%, and ask staff to voluntarily cut ours by 10%, for 3 months. You don’t have to, and you won’t be punished if you don’t. I like that they lead by example, and that they do all they can to not have to let anyone go, even if it’s going to hurt a little.
Nothing compared with the company going under though, and having a job to get back to when things return to normal is quite motivating.
I agreed to it.
I hope it helps.
Spring is arriving, with a surprise overnight snow, the other morning. So there’s that. Isa power-cleaned the patio during the weekend, it’s a whole new colour!
But today, she’s tired.
We don’t have complete lock down, our leaders trust that most of us are sensible, and follow the recommendations (stay the fuck home!), and so far, it’s not too bad. Anyone who can work at home does. No more than 50 people allowed in one place, which seems to work.
I see people about, but then I don’t really go anywhere. The shop is pretty normal. We have toilet paper.
I mean, if people ignore it, they will of course put stronger measures in, but so far, not terrible.
Well, except Stockholm. Those people seem to think they are above the rules, which shows in the infection rates… (3.5 x the second worst region).
But maybe they learn. They are also learning that no, you are indeed NOT WELCOME at your summer house, because a) you come from an infected region and x) DON’T TRAVEL and 19) it’s a sparsley (sparesly? s’Parsley??? few people.) populated region where they go, and the hospital has NO capacity for extras, let alone the locals.
And as in the rest of the world, low stocks of face masks, disinfectant, protective clothing. Someone figured out that you can use overhead projector film to make visors, but then some bureaucrat said, hey that’s not been tested and approved, so you can’t use them.
I say screw that, it’s better than a naked face.
Hum. This turned out long. Sorry for the ramblings. If i were a blogger, I might have posted it. If you want to use it for the Band, feel free. Or not. You know.
anyway.
Love, hugs, and I’ll be happy to rescue you from any mayo that comes your way!
