Tag Archives: being a dork

Politics, swine flu, and hot birthday girls

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I stayed up late last night writing and talking to Mike on Facebook. Yes, I know, we could have easily called each other, but it’s more fun to let Facebook’s messenger wreak havoc on our computers and stall everything. But that’s Facebook for you!

Yesterday was also Election Day. I so wanted Mr. Theriault to beat Jarjura out of mayor. I can’t stand Jarjura, and Theriault was my elementary school principal. I’m glad I voted though; I almost didn’t go because I didn’t feel like driving two seconds down the street. (What? I wanted to go to Barnes and Noble to write!) I convinced myself by asking myself, What if my vote is the one vote he needs to beat Jarjura? Unfortunately, Jarjura won. Again.

To make things worse, today is Wednesday and this? Is the longest week, ever. Can I say, however, that I have been possibly exposed to swine flu THREE TIMES and have escaped it? (It’s coming to get me, you know.) My four-year-old goddaughter has some sort of flu (Sandy is getting her tested to see exactly what strain), my Aunt Rikki has some sort of flu, and her daughter Katarina — who is two, almost three — also has the flu. My mom, who is a psych tech at the hospital, said that regular flu season hasn’t begun yet, so the state is saying that if you have the flu, odds are it’s H1N1 — swine flu. (H1N1 sounds like some nerdy fifteen-year-old boy’s name choice, complete with freckles, acne, glasses, and a sock to masturbate in.)

In other, completely unrelated and much more exciting news, I bought this little cube of Post-it notes that POP UP. You can pull them out one at a time! And the bottom has this little circle of rubber-like material that sticks to your desk like you wouldn’t believe. If you felt it, you would not believe that it actually sticks. And clearly I need to either get some sleep or get a life.

Anyway, today is also Hilly‘s birthday, who is fucking awesome. She’s also hot, which helps her awesome case. So go smother her with birthday wishes!

<3

I should get paid for this

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I’ve come to the conclusion that the best job in the world would be one where I could blog and get paid for it. If I could do nothing but blog all day, and make money that way, I’d have it made. Seriously. Just think about it. Blogging is addictive. If you blog, you already know how motherfucking addictive it is. Once you start, you want to write about every little thing. Thankfully, someone invented Twitter, and now I have a valid excuse for random annotations.

I know there is a really quick and easy way to make money off of blogging, and depending on how popular your blog is you’ll make a lot of money. To me, though, putting advertising on your blog is just as good as selling out. I know that some people pay for their blog by putting ads on it. I get that. I don’t have to agree with it. To me, if you want to have your own little niche on the web, you’d better be able to pay for it by yourself. Quite frankly, what happens if no one reads your blog? You’re stuck with ads that no one is going to click on and your ad provider is gonna say, “fuck you”. No more money, and then no more blog. (I dare someone to argue with me.)

One of the biggest reasons I left Screw-You-Over-Journal was because their advertising had gotten way out of hand. (The straw that broke my proverbial camel’s back was when they altogether got rid of the basic-level user account. I’ve heard that account level has just recently been reinstated, but still.) It got annoying when the choice came down to one of three things:

  • You could have a basic account with minimal features and no advertising. This later changed to minimal advertising, since you could still see ads on the home pages and all that.
  • You could have a mid-level account with better features, sponsored by advertisers. In theory it wasn’t a bad idea, but the ads were everywhere. There was no relief.
  • Finally, you could purchase a permanent account with all available features, with no advertising. My opinion on this was if you were going to shell out the money for it anyway, you might as well buy your own domain. At least you wouldn’t have their domain name as part of your web address, and you could do whatever you want on your own site.

Where was I going with this? Oh. Right. Getting paid for blogging. I got way off topic there. Heh.

Ads just don’t do it for me. I don’t want my readers (or me) getting bombarded by stupid ads just so I can have my own space. Still, I think it would be pretty cool if I got to write a daily or weekly blog for some company and got paid for it. The thing is, what sort of place could I write for? I love writing for Scars Can Speak, but that’s my own site and I obviously can’t pay myself. I think it would be neat if I could find a similar blogging site and get paid for writing about my experiences with depression and self-injury. I could do it from home and get a check in the mail every so often for sitting on my ass and telling the world what I think.

It is so nice to dream.

My inner nerd is fuming

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Sigh. I’m trying to get the NextGen Image Gallery plugin to work here but I’ve been having problem after problem with it. I uploaded a zipped folder but it didn’t work, so I ended up importing a folder from the server. That worked, but there is no way to see the pictures. You can’t see them from my home page and I can’t edit them (add captions, etc) or anything. So I decided to add the widget to the sidebar, and it worked.. but it deleted everything else on the sidebar.

Grr. So now I’m running late because of this stupid thing. I gotta go get in the shower. I guess the Penis Party pictures will have to wait.

I can’t keep myself out of trouble, can I?

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Whenever you do something stupid, you always get caught. Or at least I do.

I got lucky this morning. I pulled into the parking lot at work and it was nearly empty. There is a chain link fence that surrounds the lot. When I pulled into a space, I accidentally bumped the pole. I thought China heard the seemingly loud clang it made. None of the passersby, off-duty fireman or cars stopped at the light even glanced in my direction. (I swear, everything sounds louder in the morning.)

I didn’t get so lucky this afternoon. I pressed the button for the WALK signal and when I got the little lit-up white guy flash in front of me, I started to cross the street. As I came to the halfway point I heard sirens blaring. I could see an ambulance speeding up the street. Fleetingly, I wondered what would happen if the ambulance needed to go through where I was walking. Would they run me down? (Yes, I have an overactive imagination.) A half-second after I thought this, the ambulance paused and waited for me to finish crossing before heading straight through where I just walked. I swear, everyone was staring at me, giving me the stink eye for being in the ambulance’s way. I climbed into my car, hoping that whomever needed the ambulance hadn’t died while the ambulance waited for me to cross the street.

Yeah. Toldja I’m neurotic.