Please bookmark the correct page at Princess of Irony

Before she got all Jesus-y.

Issue Date: Wednesday, Nov. 16, 2005

Wha? Who? Me?

Um. Yeah, about that. You see I wasn’t trying to ignore you baby. It’s just that… see, there are these other –

No, no.. I’m not cheating on you sweetness. There will never be anyone but you. But see, here’s the thing. I’m –

What? No. You are pretty and I love it when you wear your hair like that. And your ass? Smokin hot. The hotness is unbelievable… scorching baby. I just have to have a break from –

No baby, not from you. But from having to work all the damn time. And during my free time I just take a little look-see at these other –

No, no no. I am telling you. It’s no one else but you baby. I am just trying to find a little bit of entertainment. Oh, don’t be like that my little love muffin. You are entertaining. I just… well. The amount of amazing writing on the innernets is unbelievable. And I keep following these links from some of my favorite reads and…

No, NO! I would not jump off of a cliff if everyone else was doing it…. I’m just running out of time with the work and personal stuff and… well, it doesn’t just take a few seconds to look this hot. Upkeep baby. Upkeep.

So, will I replace that damn maudlin story about some kid from my past with something new?

Yeah, ok.

I said OK.

First… let me remind everyone to follow this link to vote on the pictures for the Cheese Off. If you would like to join the fun, please send me a picture via email. … Clickity click click.

Second – my sweet mommy had knee replacement surgery Monday. Please keep her in your thoughts. We cancelled Thanksgiving because she doesn’t know how she will feel by then. I even promised to bring food and booze… lots of booze. No go. I hate that she is hurting so badly. She’s been living with the pain for WAY too long and earlier this month Momma and Daddy went to Eastern Europe (Belgium, Prague, Kraków… ect.) and my poor little mother hobbled around and her knees really ruined her trip. They LOVE to travel, and for her trip to be tainted with pain… it just breaks my heart.

Mister and I went over to their house this weekend on a spur of the moment deal. I wanted to see my mom, you know… before. She said it before I did and said she needed to hug me… you know...before she went in. Or under. Or whatever.

It’s killing me that I can’t fix it for her.

It’s killing my father even worse.

My father is watching over her and not leaving her side. He’s like a bear when his grills (that’s what he calls my sister, my mother and I… as opposed to girls) are hurting. Make one wrong move and you will pull back a nub.

So, please… if you believe in a higher power, please pray for my mother. And if you don’t believe in a higher power, please just keep the good thoughts flowing her way.

Third – I have senioritis in a bad, BAD way. I am coming up on my last (and biggest) job of the calendar year. I will be in three cities from the 27th of November through the 6th of December. Well, four cities if you count the one I am leaving and returning to. This job is a logistical nightmare and I am already tired thinking about it. I will be spending the next few weeks herding cats. If you know what I mean, and I think you do.

Fourth – My creativity bone is tired and I feel like I am telling you guys the same damn story over and over again… but this time with fuzzy pictures from a decade ago. I have been with Diaryland for almost four years and I am toying with the idea of a change. But what if I change and it is the same stories… just hosted by someone different?

I have all of these great stories in my head, memories and the damn pictures to back them up. But are you guys tired of hearing about me as a youngster? For the past five or so years I have really concentrated on being an adult, and that makes for some boring shit, yo.

Every time I find a new site where the writing is fresh and witty (::cough::… nothing but bonfires…::cough::) I am so excited about finding something that is superbly done… but at the same time, a bit sad because I will never be as charming, as eloquent or as captivating. Some of the sites I read make me shake my head over the pure genius.

Fiction you say? My efforts turn out rambling and entirely too dark. I supposed it is a product from many years with my literary diet consisting of King, Koontz, Rice (before she got all Jesus-y), Slade, Cornwell, Deavers and many more like them. Hell, I caught myself trying to work BladefuckingRunner into the plot of a perfectly good collaborative story.

I love having no drama. Love it. I love it when things rock along smoothly. I love being employed. I love it even more that I do my job with the utmost confidence. But I am not challenged. And for the past year, that has been just fine. What has it been? Just fine, I said. But now and again friends, past coworkers and sometimes even present coworkers will send me links about certain jobs that have been posted. “You would rock this job righteously!” an email will say, with a link to [angels singing]… The. Perfect. Job. But I am sort of worried about even sending in my resume. What if I got it? I am totally qualified. But, international travel? That may cut into my laying around time. It would totally hamper my schedule of watching Breaking Bonaduce… and we can not have that… can we?

When did I become complacent?

And when, for the love of Pete did I start watching reality TV?

I blame VH1.

So, in conclusion, I love you, really I do. I just don’t want to bore you to tears and be one of those journals that you turn to when you have a few moments free time and then click the little x at the top right because you would rather clean your keyboard with that canned air stuff than to read to the end of a post.


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To understand this dear reward (above) at all, you must hie thee on and read gatsby’s grape ape entry and my comments.

And because of said comments he sent me my very own dream turtle in an email titled wee gift with these words attached, “my purple monkey is booked solid so i ordered you a tangerine turtle. hope he proves helpful.”

The Graphic Below Courtesy of Papernapkin.

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