The Things I Do For Money, The Waiting Game, And Gramma's Oatmeal: RTTR

So Tomorrow was going to be the day I finally got the hubs back from Louisiana. I don't think that's going to happen. I really appreciate all the shit he's gone through since I moved, but I think it's time he told everyone and everything to go to hell so he can come home. I'm tired of waiting, sleeping alone, changing dates, hearing my kid cry because she misses her daddy, and dealing with everyone's drama.

Do you think I'm really that bad of a person, guys? I wouldn't MAKE him do anything. This was a mutual decision, and I don't appreciate the accusations or the hateful messages. Man up, grow a set of balls, and learn what "staying out of things you don't know anything about" means. I promise, what you think you know, isn't at all what's really going on. Maybe you should disregard gossip and worry about yourself.

I'm a bit cranky when it comes to this subject. That's about all I can say. I miss my best friend and regulator, so I'm not exactly thrilled that it's going to take more time. Also, it's getting harder to keep the munchkin on the up-and-up. I can't tell her to be good because Daddy will be here soon if soon never comes.


I pounded out an article that took me a week to prepare for. It's pretty sweet, and I'll be linking to it in a post as soon as it's live. I wrote a speech for someone's kid who did something "cool", and got to hear more of the same crap I just posted about. Lame jokes.. lots of them. I finished up the last of the graphics I plan on doing for a while, and had another 100 e-mails from douchenuts who think it's my job to make them free shit. I'm letting you know now that it's not my job to give you something that takes away from my paid-for time and my family, for free. Ever. If I offer, then I offer. If you e-mail me 12 times in a day TELLING me to do something, I'm going to remind you that eating a bag of dicks can be cleansing, and block you from my life. Forever.

Now, this eating of the bag of dicks can also be applied to people who make me work hours on things I offered, and assumed would be simple, and then never contact me to finish them, or treat me like I'm their fucking bitch and can't even say thank you before they're telling me what I am and am not going to do for them.

Fuck off. My time is worth $125 an hour, and if you want me to bow to your every whim, you will pay me for it, I clock my hours with the same timer my Dad uses, and trust me, I clock your free shit. I clocked in almost three hours out of the goodness of my heart, and you will pay me for it, PLUS whatever time I waste from here on out, since you want to be a fucking tool.


Also, if you type like a douche, I'm going to block you. I won't even accept your money if it means I have to read your messages. I mean, come on: "Dhuz eyU mayK gRaFiiXx fu ah Tallt?!??!G won noe, tryyk. iiMma nea tuhh giit ah bluu XxX owna bakk. lmk. ppeecce."

What in the fucking fuck does that even mean?! I'm totally serious, here. I know what "lmk" is, but other than that, I'm fucking lost. I copy+paste-d that from an e-mail I received two hours ago. My head hit the desk so fast I wasn't prepared for it.

If that was you, you're blocked. Forever and ever. And if you leave a comment on this post, I will hunt you down and shove my old Grammar book into your ear canal in hopes that it, by some divine miracle, punctures your brain and oozes its useful knowledge all over it. Get a job, and maybe you'll learn proper english.


It's going to be super nice outside today, Thursday, and Friday. I can't wait to get out and enjoy it. I'm hoping the munchkin will be up for some serious walking, because it's going to happen. Wednesday can kiss my ass. It wants to be rainy. I hate Wednesday right now. Wednesday, you're a bitch.


I cheated when I cooked supper last night, and made spaghetti from a canned sauce. It was a huge mistake. It tasted like I dumped a cup of sugar into it, and then added some Karo syrup. No one could eat it. It was a total waste of meat, spices, and time. I promise, family, I will never do that again. Ever.


I made myself some oatmeal for a snack and breakfast tomorrow. I used the same oats my gramma used to use, and I added in some brown sugar, a dash of nutmeg, honey, and a spoonful of some home canned maple peach preserves. It was awesome, but it paled in comparison to hers. No one will ever make oatmeal like hers. Also, butter beans. She made the best, and I am just trying to make mine a fraction as good these days.


I have found the worst thing about living out in the middle of the country: waiting around for the dude to refill your gas tank. Everyone else is fine with the slight drop in temperature due to conservation, but I'm not. I haven't taken my boots off all day, and I'm in so many layers it's hard to walk around.

Also, I think I may have over-shot the limits on my Jeep. I decided to wait to get gas, and then I forgot I was low, and drove it around today. I may or may not be able to get back to town to fill it up. Anyone have a gas can? Because I'm a failure.

You know the drill, head over to Stacy's awesome blog, grab a button, write some shit down, link-up, and get in on the Random Tuesday fun! Now with more REBELLION!


Have a very random Tuesday!

The Good Times Had by a Freelance Writer

So, among the many things I do to make ends meet, I freelance write. Now, don't get me wrong, I love it. It gives me the freedom to work on so many different projects that I normally would't get a chance at. It's rewarding and fulfilling on so many levels.

But, sometimes, I hate it. One of these sometimes is when I'm commissioned to write a speech for someone who really didn't want my help in the first place. How can I say that, you ask? They refuse to let me do my job. There is a difference between tossing around ideas and then letting me go to work and deliver you a great speech, and taking over -- basically paying me hundreds of dollars to be your PA and type your shit up for you.

Since everyone always posts up "What If" scenarios, and people, like the incredible author/artist of The Oatmeal, create amazing comics out of their horror stories, I'm going to write the speech that I wish I could give to difficult clients here.. in my blog.. because I like money. I would rather continue to receive money, than lose out on it because I want to post up my issues like I'm grand-standing in a public forum.

You know, that thing I'm doing now, only it's not to a room full of people who already hate me.

Enjoy!


Dear Audience,

Thank you for whatever reason I'm here. I'm a clueless Douchenut, so I really don't have a idea as to why I'm actually standing here, but thanks. Here are a few really awful and extremely stupid jokes to make you question why I am in whatever position I am in; I am quite certain your fake laughter will give me whatever confidence booster I'll need to make it through the rest of the night. I'm not exactly sure I like any of you, but it warms me more than my fist of whiskey to hear your finger claps and discontented chuckles.

Now, here's the part where I should be telling you it's all thanks to you, but no. Fuck that shit. It's all about me tonight, baby. Me, me, me, me, and me. I love me. I'm accomplished at something, but I'm not quite sure what it is. I'm sure it'll come to me in the next however long I choose to stand here, but right now? Total blank. Oh, did I mention I love the way my farts smell? Because I do. They're awesome. More about me. Blahdy blahdy blah blah blah blah blah. Blargh.

I would also like to give thanks to the chick I hired to help me better articulate absolutely nothing. She's awesome. This bitch can type like.. fucking fast. She got a lot of money to help me, but instead, I decided to go my own way. I'm a fucking REBEL! Here's the gist of what I put her through:

 I don't know what the fuck I'm doing, and I'm not entirely sure where I'm at or how I got here. I hired someone smarter than me to research and write me some pretty words. She's now far more competent than me, and could quite possibly steal my position based on her gleaned knowledge alone.

But, I decided I wanted jokes; lots and lots of really un-funny and extremely offensive jokes. Also, I wanted a small slideshow of ponies and unicorns and rainbow-shitting cupcake faeries to go with it. You're definitely welcome for those. There's also a few images of me spending my insane salary on some equally insane vacation. Do you like my hot pants? Daddy likes.... Let me rub my nipple in a failed attempt at sexual humor and innuendo. I do these things so fucking well, and she knows it.

She also researched the people who should actually be here, and she wanted to thank you all, but like I said, fuck you. It's me time, and I'm cashing in.

Words and stuff.

Man that bitch can type.

Now, I realize that I've completely ruined any chance I have at making you think I have any idea why I should be here.. or grateful.. or even alive, because I'm a fucking tool. Please let me just take the cheap-ass trophy or certificate you made me from some crap-ass Microsoft program, sans speech, and I swear, to Zeus, that this awkwardly painful moment (for everyone involved, mind you) will never happen again.

Also, I'll save $700 on something I could've easily done myself. Which is cause massive embarrassment and give you all something to discuss, at-length, in e-mails and at the water cooler, behind my back, for at LEAST a year. Probably more, depending on how drunk I am right now and who's wife is hottest. I'm grabbing your ass, hot wifey, I'm just sayin'.

Spanx. See?! I'm totally not hilarious at all!
Continue on somehow with the rest of your miserable night,

Douche-y McFuckNut

All I Have To Say About Internet Censorship: It's Ridiculous

   

Can you read that? Chances are, you can't. You didn't make it, and it's been censored. I made it. I used my bought and paid for copy of Adobe Photoshop CS 5 Master Collection. Chances are also pretty high that it will be copied, saved, linked-to, and re-linked to again and again. It will be changed, the size will be messed with, and people will most likely say they made it. I didn't even bother to slap my copyright watermark on it.

If I post it to Twitter tomorrow, it could be censored. If Bills like ACTA, Bill-C11 (formerly Bill-C32), SOPA, PIPA, or any other Internet Censorship laws pass, I could be fined or placed in jail. That doesn't sound fun, since I made it, and it's my right to bellyache and complain about whatever the hell I want.

That's just it, though. It's MY choice. This is the internet. Shit gets stolen; so what? I take it as a compliment when people like what I do enough to share it. I don't really go for the changes, but like I said, this is the internet, and shit happens. I always ask that people at least let me know they're taking something because asking is a simple courtesy. I'm not going to police my work after they take it because I have a life and better things to do.

If you don't want people to get to anything that you do, don't make your work public. I am guilty of it, you are guilty of it. I like memes, and so do you. That is a prime example of what they're calling piracy. It's not just about grabbing a torrented copy of a movie or CD, people -- it's so much bigger than that.

I know we (the internet lovers) had a huge "win" when we all got together and shut our sites down for a day. Wikipedia had probably the biggest impact, leading people to be forever lost because they don't remember a time when we didn't have ready access to the information we wanted/needed. Since I used to use my handy-dandy encyclopedia to find information, I still tend to stick to it. But there's something comforting about having the ease of Google Search right at my fingertips. Many of the web pages that we visit are powered by Wiki, and we rarely realize just how crippling it's loss would be.

SOPA and PIPA may be frozen, but ACTA is like SOPA and PIPA on steroids, and it my friends, is FAR from frozen. Bill-C11? It even makes ripping your bought CDs to your iTunes library and DVR-ing your favourite TV shows illegal. Have you unlocked your phone? Rooted it? Changed the OS? That's illegal under Bill-C11 as well.

Think I'm crazy? Check the links at the end of this article to find out for yourself. I'm not crazy, this is our future. Taking a small stand against one bill and thinking we've won the war is ridiculous. We have yet to win anything but one small smokescreen of a battle.  SOPA and PIPA were created to annoy us, while we remained in the dark about other bills, whether American or not, that are far worse and could royally fuck our shit up. Sharing isn't caring to these bills -- it's a federal offense that could land you in jail for sharing a photo you found via Google Images.

And, just to let you know just how far the laws can carry themselves, some of the bills I'm talking about aren't American. Bill-C11 is Canada's new love-child. We as Americans can't do anything but spread the word, but most of us have never even heard of it. Canada helped us out with SOPA and PIPA, so don't forget to help them. I'm appreciative of their efforts.

You see, they realize, unlike most people, that whatever laws are passed here (or anywhere else) are going to affect us all. It's the WORLD-WIDE web, people. If ACTA passes, it's going to affect us; If the Canadians lose their battle against Bill-C11, we're just as screwed. These bills our governments are trying to hide behind fancy words and 'round-about press releases, if passed, will open the floodgates. One passes, they could ALL pass.

And then the internet would look like a pissed-off dude ripped the shit out of a book. There won't be any Wiki sites, there won't be a Twitter and Facebook worth using, and Google will take a huge dive. Even searching for articles to cite here in my own blog lead me to censorship. Google was forced to take articles off the search queue. It's complete bullshit, and we shouldn't be content to let other people decide what we can and cannot share. 

Not all sharing is bad, government, and your bills aren't going to help. Things are just going to get worse.

Oh, and in case you haven't heard, Twitter is now able to censor your tweets on a case-to-case basis.

I'm not quite fond of this idea, and you shouldn't be, either. They're your thoughts, and if you want to let them be known, it should be your decision how they're conveyed.

This is basically a war on freedom of expression; which side are you on?

Check these links to learn about the bills and the new Twitter censorship (I'm not including SOPA and PIPA, so no worries. You're going to learn something new.):

Bill-C11(formerly Bill-C32)
More on Bill-C11
ACTA(A Wiki site.. better read quick!)
Forbes Speaks: Twitter Censorship and Internet Censorship Laws

I Don't Like Your Dress, But I Did The First Time I Saw It

I've been to so many weddings in the past 5 years that I can't even count them anymore. I'm at that age where everyone is getting married, and most of them are doing it big.

Big or small, they've all had one thing in common: The dress. That dress up there, to be exact. Same colours, same dress, almost the exact same veil, and the same bridesmaid dresses to match.

My wedding wasn't big, and I didn't have a dress. Hell, I hadn't even washed my hair yet that day. We got married when Husband got a few minutes off his shift, in a tiny room up a dirty staircase in downtown Waikiki. Hooray Military weddings! We got there just in time to wait in a growing line, and got out of there just in time to make it to the closest McDonald's to grab his lunch. I wore a gorgeous jean skirt by Aeropostale, a tank top from Hollister, and a great custom jacket from Cafepress. It was the best thing that ever happened to me.

No, it wasn't the most fancy wedding, nor the most traditional, but it was mine. It was unique and special. I'm pretty sure no one else in the history of ever will have my "dress" because that jacket? It was one-of-a-kind. That makes me feel pretty okay with skipping the white dress and the reception.

Before you go bitching at me, let me explain my disdain for this dress so maybe you can understand where I'm coming from.

If I had worn a dress, and if I had had a wedding that was all match-y and decorated, I would've gone for something that was original. I don't want to look back at my wedding pictures and notice that ALL MY FRIENDS had the exact same dress and colours as I did. That would make me feel weird. We don't match on a daily basis, why would we want to match on the most wonderful day of our lives?

Isn't anyone noticing that for every ten weddings they go to, they're going to nine carbon copies, including their own? Doesn't that bother anyone? There are a thousand dresses with pickup skirts and satin fabric and sashes in millions of colours. Do you all have to wear the exact same one, with the exact same shade of red?

And, for the record, it's kind-of crappy to make your friends lie to you. When you ask me "Don't you just totally LOVE my dress?!", from now on, I'm going to tell you no. I'm sorry, but if I tell another person I do, I'm going to hang myself from my own tongue. I shouldn't have to lie. At this point in time, if I saw the ugliest dress ever made, and it was on my friend, and they asked me how I like it, if it was different than that dress up there, I would think it was the most amazing piece of shit ever. Because, despite the trends, they went with a dress that was unique and fit their personality.

That dress up there? It's not for everyone. I've seen a lot of weddings where the dress looked awful and the bride looked just miserable in it. However, her friends? They loved it. You could tell they were the ones who picked it out. They see the trends, and they make decisions based on what's hot, not what's special. I've even seen this dress recreated into bridesmaid dresses or prom gowns.

YOU'RE TAKING IT WAY TOO FAR, PEOPLE! OMHMYGOD!

When you try on a dress and you're standing up on that platform, staring into the mirrors, turning and twirling, don't look at the dress like a fashion statement. Please, for the love of all your photos and memories, look at that dress like it's an expression of yourself; like that dress is going to be on you forever and it's the last thing you'll ever put on. Would you want to look just like everyone else for the rest of your life?

Probably not.

I realize I sound awfully mean, and full of hate. I am full of hate.. for that dress. I sat here for a few minutes and tallied up the times I've either seen it in person, or seen someone's wedding pictures, and the count comes to 140. Yes, I'm completely serious. And the saddest part? at least 90% of those times, the girls know each other.

I liked the dress the first time I saw it; I liked the red pop in the sea of black and white. Now? I wish someone would've picked blue, green, pink, yellow, orange, cream, grey -- SOMETHING DIFFERENT. How about some gunmetal grey? What if you go with some deep purples and blues? Have some bright pink?

Anything? Anyone?

Whatevs, it's your wedding. I would suggest making it actually your wedding, but if you want me to come and say how much I love your dress, or the colours you chose, don't expect me to go crazy for something I've seen before -- so many times I'm just plain sick of it.

Where's the open bar? I need enough tequila in me to not rant on-stage about your cookie cutter wedding.

American Idol, Yet Again

I'm over at RaspWire today, and it's all about this week's American Idol episodes.



I sat through two more episodes of American Idol, and I’m starting to question my sanity. I’m pretty sure I wasted another two hours of my life I will never successfully regain, but it’s like a train wreck you just. can’t. look. away. from. At all.

I’m suffering through this for you, you know. If you miss...continue reading.

Remembering Is Embarrassing

No, really. Remembering my school years bring massive amounts of embarrassment.

There's a hash tag roaming around Twitter right now that really got me thinking about my younger years: #middleschoolmemories. I remember plenty from then, and none of it is worth the tequila cravings. I haven't thought much about that time since I survived it, but now it seems to be a constant thought in the back of my mind.

In honor of Wednesday, a day when I normally at least post something, I'm going to make a list. If you have any middle school memories, you might want to do the same. I hear it keeps you young -- or drunk, because I'm leaning towards drunk right about now.

Things I Remember From Middle School:
-My first B.
-The bomb threat in 6th grade & being terrified because Columbine had just happened.
-My first friend moving away.
-The first time any of us had to worry about "social status" in a serious way.
-A lot of really awesome books.
-Scoliosis.
-Lee Pipes, but not the girl ones. I wasn't smart or cool enough to know they made those. I forced my Mom to buy me the most god-awful pair of dude jeans because I thought they were the "in" thing. I lied.
-School pictures with friends.. yeah.. let's not go there.
-My first song that was recorded AFTER the 80's. Everything I'd ever listened to was from the 20's-80's, and the song that broke that, by some odd coincidence, was "Gangsta's Paradise". My life is so fucking tragic.
-The long-sleeve t-shirt and shorts fad.
-Some really awful books.
-Sex ed. Omg.
-My first sport-related injury and the awful time I had in PE with it.
-My first crush. She was/still is sooooo gorgeous. (Bri, I'm totally talking about you.)
-My Dad's second divorce.. that bitch took my GameBoy, my games, AND MY MUTHAFUCKING GOLD NUGGETS. I hope you enjoyed them, wench.
-Chorus. Enough said.
-My Dad's third marriage.. err, live-in girlfriend? Whatevs, they're married now.
-Getting accused of cheating. Twice. I really needed better friends. Well, once was totally legit. I hated my math teacher and he gave some fucking stupid homework. Since he never checked it, I copied down some BS. Dumb? Yes. Regretted? No. Shit happens. But the one time was complete bullshit. The chick ADMITTED it, and I still did time.
-Moving to a new school & having my academics get screwed up because my new school was retarded and didn't know what "PUT THIS KID BACK IN HER GIFTED CLASSES" meant. Obviously it meant "DON'T PUT HER IN THE MATH CLASS WITH THE CHICK WITH HICKIES".. hooker teachers, ftw! (that little incident forever fucked me in Math, and I missed out on three months of one of the best Lit classes ever. thanks for that, MCMS)
-Making some awesome friends that I still love with all my heart to this day.
-Awkward school dances.
-Being published for the second time for a poem it took me all of 2 minutes to write.
-Duke University stuff. Oh, what fun.
-Kissing a boy and getting really grossed-out. Hello? Girls were way better.
-Braces. Fuck those things.
-My third perfect score on the ITBS test.. yes, I'm THAT old. They were still ITBS back then.
-Poptart sticks. OHMYGAWD! Genius.
-Those talking beanbag things; you threw them and they made noises when they hit stuff? My Dad got me one from Lowe's or somewhere. It was cool as hell.
-The introduction of Campbell's Chunky Soups to my life. NOM.
-New Balances. Admittedly, I thought they were knock-off Nike's. I was that retarded.
-Almost getting thrown out of school for short shorts -- that were 1" above my knees. I still hate that teacher, and apparently so does everyone else. Lady, you're a bitch. Get over yourself.
-My first MOD walk.
-Our dryer catching on fire and pretty much destroying all my favourite clothes. Including my first pair of satin pajamas. They were peach, and they were fucking awesome.


Okay, enough. I remember other things, but this list is starting to make me wonder how I managed to have any friends.

Happy Wednesday, all!

Shocking Developments, The Flu, Work, And A Talking Cat -- RTTR

I have the flu. And it's not because I didn't get a shot, or because I don't use hand sanitizer. It's because I do not possess any winter shoes. I have a pair of aerated tennis shoes, some holy flats, and several pairs of flip-flops. I got stuck in freezing cold rain all day on Saturday, and my feet stayed wet. I contracted a cold, which turned into the flu.

Thank you, being broke, for making it impossible for me to buy a friggin' pair of boots. Also, thank you, tax return, for giving me the extra cash to acquire a pair.. after I got sick. At least I'll have my cherry red Ukala's soon, right? Just in time for more cold rain and yuck.

Anyhow, the flu. It sucks. It makes work nearly impossible. I have used so many eye drops trying to work today it's unreal. And now I'm blogging.. with my eye drops.. and a really sore throat. And a cough. Fuck you, flu.

I have a super bad ass article to write this week. It's about two of my most favourite things: Star Wars and video games. Together. Yay! I get to work with some friends on it, and I am actually excited to get out of the house and do something -- even if it IS for work. It'll go live next Monday, so be checking for that link.

Sunday I took my Mom to church. It was under unusual circumstances, and neither one of us really wanted to go. But we did; me with my chip on my shoulder and her with her strong religious roots. I used to love that place.. not because it was a church, but because it was a second home. I've never been religious despite growing up in that tiny little church a few miles from my house -- I'm still not.

It was awesome to see the people that helped shape me into who I am. They were extra parents and grandparents, the brothers and sisters I never had. Even though I was pretty much the outcast because I was awkward and socially retarded and they didn't really like me all that much, I will still always remember the countless hours spent in those cramped classrooms and that small fellowship hall. It was something I used to look forward to.

No one looks forward to stepping through those double doors anymore. No one even wants to talk about it. There's a new preacher in town, and he's pretty much the worst person I've ever met. I sat halfway back from the front in the same old pews I remember being a lot bigger, and listened to a supposed "man of God" disrespect and belittle every single one of the people that I loved so much. I've never been so appalled in my entire life. His wife, his friends, and some blind followers have turned that place into a den of resentment.

I stood up after I couldn't take it anymore, hands shaking, tears rolling down my face, and made a very respectful stand against his hurtful words and twisted sense of entitlement. I tried to bridge the gap, and in doing so lost the respect of my grandparents. I couldn't even look them in the eyes as I made a heartfelt plea for him to pull his head out of his ass and act like a preacher, or even a decent human being.

How can someone call themselves a man of God if they are going to verbally abuse the members of the church that have been there since before he was an afterthought? I was attacked as I stepped down and went to my daughter. It was ridiculous. The support I received from others was immense, and without them and my wonderful Mom, I would probably be lost in a bottle of something 100-proof. I just couldn't sit there and listen to the snide sarcasm and the accusations.

I really never thought I would be so depressed to be back in that church. His behavior is atrocious, and his little lackeys aren't any better. If that's what it means to be a christian, I'm thankful I'm not one. He ain't neighborly, and he definitely ain't doing what Jesus would do. Maybe he needs to take a few more classes? Maybe brush up on what it means to be a real preacher? Douchebag.

My cat talks. Seriously. I'm not crazy. He will sit and have a full-on kitty conversation. It makes me happy.


And it obviously makes me the crazy cat lady. Judge away.











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Enjoy your Random Tuesday!

Some Things To Ponder At The Close of Another Week

I had the best conversation with Husband last night. It made me tear-up a little, and boy did I need to hear the things he told me right about then.

I was whining about student loans and the ridiculous price of higher education, and he stopped me in my tracks. He reminded me that I've already got a lot of school under my belt, and if this was what I really wanted, he would do whatever it took to support me and make it happen no matter the cost or struggle -- but if I wanted to just keep doing what I was doing, that was fine too. I told him I was tired of feeling like I'm not contributing enough, and again, he stopped me.

He reminded me that I cook, clean, run errands, pay bills, and make sure the laundry is done for everyone in the house; I administer care and love when needed and make sure everyone is doing what they need to do, when they need to do it; I take care of the little things so no one else has anything to worry about once they're off-the-clock and ready to enjoy some down time; I love and nurture and educate our daughter, and I work my ass off to make something of myself when most people are content to just be blips on the radar. He said he never gave me the credit I deserve, and he was wrong; he never appreciated all I do for not only him, but our daughter, our families, and our friends.

It really threw me for a loop, because admittedly, throughout the "problem years" of our marriage, one of his biggest complaints was that "You think making doodles on the internet is a job?". It always hurt me, because at one point, my "doodles" were paying half of the bills and ALL of the luxuries we enjoyed. I was bringing in over $7k/mo and working 20/hrs a day -- the other four were spent catching up on all the things I didn't get accomplished throughout the day. I slept only when I was sick or delirious, and sometimes I skipped it then (I remember trying to have a conference call laying in the ER with an IV and having the nurses take my phone away because "You can't talk on the phone and get a CT Scan, Mrs. G."). I felt like if that wasn't good enough, nothing I ever did would be good enough.

He used to regulate me when I would get mad at him for no reason out of frustration, stress, and exhaustion. For about a week here and there, he would be Superman. He would make me eat, sleep, and take breaks from work. He would help out with the house and the errands and the kiddo so I could catch a break and relax. There was a point in my career as a WAHM that I had gone over a week without a shower, because I never had the extra time to worry about it. I was too busy doing everything else. He never complained, he just took kiddo for a very long walk around the lake so I could take a shower and have a minute to gather myself. I spent four hours just sitting outside enjoying the warm summer night. I had missed almost every single one since they started. They started in April, and it was the end of July.

But, for the most part, he hated what I did and felt like I wasn't doing enough to help out. He felt like I was just meandering through life, waiting on him to support me so I could dick around on the internet all day. He left everything up to me, and played FFXI like it was his second job. I wasn't feeling appreciated, and we fought constantly because neither one of us were standing behind each other anymore.

He was always my support system. When he got sick, something changed, and it didn't un-change when he was better. I think he just needed some time to live life the way he wanted, but he wasn't exactly "footloose and fancy-free". He had a family to support and a military career in full-bloom. He had people depending on him, and when the military decided to let him go, we moved and he was even more lost. It wasn't exactly the greatest start to our lives, and we had a LOT of huge bumps in the road, but we made do. It was definitely hard, and we definitely almost gave up countless times.

But we didn't. We stuck it out, never giving up, fighting every step of the way. That's the true test of a marriage -- love, COMMITMENT, dedication. Just because the going got tough, we didn't make the choice to abandon everything we had to make things "easier".

Hearing his love and support last night got me thinking about everything we've been through, and where we are today. I'm thankful that he is my "rock" again. I couldn't do what I do without him backing me up. I missed his ever-present enthusiasm for my work and his understanding that it's my dedication that makes it so good. Without support, no one will succeed. There is always a need to hear "You're doing the right thing." and "This is worth it, keep going.".

We both have some pretty big dreams and some pretty big plans. We're going to work together and support each other until they're achieved. That's not something to take for granted, that's for sure. He wants to work towards owning his own business, and I want to get mine back to where it used to be. I want to take on the world and continue to write and love every minute of it; he wants to buy up rental properties and open his own construction company.

These aren't things that are going to come to fruition without ups and downs, but it's nice to know that we won't have to go for them while butting heads and throwing blame. I'm going to make a go at school, and if we just can't do it right now, I'm going to keep doing what I'm doing -- only this time, it's going to be done knowing that I have his support. I'll know that no matter what, he believes in what I'm doing and is thankful for my contribution to this family.

The Wendy Williams Drool Post [RaspWire]

Wendy Williams. That is her name, right? Oh. my. gosh. I don’t watch daytime talk shows (aside from the occasional episode of Ellen, that is), but Thursday morning, when my television found itself on whatever channel it is that hosts her show, I couldn’t help but sit there and stare. My mouth was hanging open as I listened to TMZ knock-off insults about celebs that I either hadn’t heard of, or didn’t care about. It was pretty much a morning television version of a bad tabloid magazine and I went to change the channel – continue reading

Don't forget that sharing is caring!

My First Post For RaspWire Is Here!

Did any of you watch American Idol this week? I did. I’m not sure why, but I did. Maybe I’m a glutton for punishment? Probably. Whatevs; it made for awesome comedic fodder. Also, it gave me something to rag my friends and family that love it oh-so much about. They don’t like me right now.

Okay, so aside from the fact that it’s Idol, this year seems much worse than all the others. They exploited a town that I love dearly in my home state for their season premier, and it took some serious commitment to my epic sense of humor to continue watching. I may have bought the “this person is crazy and obviously doesn’t care that the world knows it now” routine the first couple of years (William Hung, anyone?), but now? Come on, producers, we’re not stupid. We know what you’re doing! If you think for two seconds we can’t spot the “scripted reality” in your auditions, you seriously underestimate how intuitive reality television has made your audience.

To continue reading, check out the full post at RaspWire. 

You're Not Fooling Anyone, Americal Idol

Thank you for all the support throughout all my endeavors, awesome readers! Feel free to peruse all the site has to offer once you're finished reading my post! Never be afraid to comment and let me know what you think. I love hearing feedback and opinions, it's why most of us writers do what we do.

Also, soon I will be looking for guest posts and collabs. I'll also be seeking out opinions for future posts and ideas for products/shows to review.

Untitled, Unfinished Piece

Sitting in the corner, she took the party in from the shadows. There was music and dancing; frivolity and laughter; an abundance of stolen kisses and looks overflowing with love and enchantment. The whole scene was one for the storybooks.
No one even looked her way. She had been sitting there like the proverbial "fly on the wall" for quite some time - the entire party to be exact. She nursed her already warming beer and sulked. What a typical Saturday..

She was the the awkward one - the one that was overweight and a fashion train wreck. She'd never been part of the "In-Crowd"; no friends, no boyfriends. If you saw her out somewhere, she was usually alone -- and quickly forgotten.

Staring out across the crowded room, she spotted a beautiful girl dancing alone. Swaying to-and-fro with the beat of the music; a smile on her up-tilted face and her eyes slightly closed. She wanted to go talk to her, but knew someone who fit in so well where she did not wouldn't even give her a second thought. She sat back and continued to pine for the girl that was quickly becoming an obsession.
As the night progressed, she continued to stare; people came and went. The ever-changing crowd seemed to center on the dancing angel next to the stairs. She watched her laugh at someone's jokes, put on a mini-show for her adoring fans, and continue to dance; oh, how magical it was to watch her dance.

A few people stopped and said hello, but she paid them no attention - they were just trying to be nice. She just wanted to keep watching the girl. Hoping against hope that people would stop bringing the girl drinks, she slowly made her way to a chair near the "bar". She sat and tried to act nonchalant, but it was hard to hide what she was doing - she eventually stopped caring.

Another Place You Can Find Me

From here on out, there are two places you can find me writing my happy little ass off. Well, three if you count Twitter. And, I guess four if you count the things I freelance.

I will be writing here, just like I always do. I'm not going to give up on my special little corner of the world. Plus, where else can I regale people with tales of my cat. Also, I don't think I could ever not write about Husband and all the wisdom he bestows to us all. He's such an easy target.

But, like I was trying to say, I will now be writing two places.. three. Four. Whatever.

I'm going to be writing for a very awesome website. I'm very excited to be working with the super nice team over at RaspWire. I will be taking on the difficult task of reviewer and humor columnist.

Okay, so maybe it's not exactly like I'm working the coal mines, but it's still hard to come up with a good review without sounding like an idiot. It's also very hard to keep yourself fresh and new. Humor can become bland if you don't find something new to make fun of.

American Idol just started back up, though, so I think I'm good for the next few months.







Just thought I would share my exciting life with everyone; continue on with the rest of your day!

Hello Kitty's Furry Tale Theater: A Review*

I found this show on Netflix. I had no idea that it's old as fuck. I'm in love with it, and it keeps the kid busy while I work. Here's the skinny on this new (old as fuck) show:

Hello Kitty's Furry Tale Theater is a show that takes old stories and re-purposes them into a Hello Kitty version. Think old Disney movies, classic works of fiction, and fairy tales coming to life in the Hello Kitty universe. Stories like Peter Pan, Cinderella, Pinnochio, The Wizard of Oz, and Dracula are transformed into Peter Penguin, Cinderkitty, Pinnochio Penguin, The Wizard of Paws, and Catula. They even did one that recreated ET: KT — The Kitty Terrestrial.

Cute, right?

Look, it may be the same stories that we all know and love, but this is my opinion: It changes it up. I'm not constantly watching the same version over-and-over. It gives my kid something new to watch, and it introduces her to new characters in a familiar format. Everyone likes something new and different, right?



I'm a huge fan and I highly recommend it — especially for younger ones. The stories are slow enough for little kids to grab on and they're fun and interesting enough to hold their attention. I find myself looking up and getting lost in the tales myself.

Check it out, you may be pleasantly surprised!







*I was not paid, endorsed, or even asked to do a review. I highly doubt anyone gives a shit about my opinion, anyway. Let's be smart here, folks.

Bad Weather, Mean Kid, Dumb Husband, Fair Trades, And Star Trek For Kids: RTT Rebel

So, I traded getting out in the freezing drizzle and taking the trash to the pick-up spot for a pot of coffee and an episode of Bones. Yes, I'm that guy. I'm totally easy to barter with. Mom knows what really gets me ready to make a deal. Husband, not so much.

I'm still really happy to be home. Our awesome living arrangement is going well, and it's also keeping me busy. Since she works nights, I do the cooking, cleaning, organizing, kid watching, and working thing. I'm also about to start school again... hopefully.
I say "hopefully" because I have yet to find a suitable student loan for the remaining balance of my tuition, and "again" because, well, I've been in school pretty much the entire time I've been out of high school. I'm just trying to find my niche in the universe.

Yesterday was a really bad day to be "Mommy". I'll admit it. My kid told me she wished I would die so she didn't have to have me telling her what to do all the time. I was heartbroken. She's only three, why is this even an issue yet? What. The. Fuck? I tried to talk to Husband about it, but he just doesn't get it. He never has to be the "bad guy", so she's nice to him. I'm the one that makes sure she eats the right stuff, picks up her toys, feeds the cat, takes her dishes to the kitchen, gets the right amount of sleep, bathes properly, brushes her teeth, etc. She thinks I'm fucking Satan or something. So, of course, I get the temper tantrums and the mean names... it sucks. It sucks hard.
But, admittedly, it has been boring lately. We haven't been able to go outside and play because it's just been gross. I won't let her get her way on eating chips for breakfast or having ten pounds of candy like my in-laws do (which, fuck that.. it's not even a question of "right and wrong", but she still sees it as awful, mean mommy won't let her do something). It still doesn't make it any easier to hear your kid say something like that to you, and even though I was crying and probably making a complete case file for commitment to some kind-of institution, Husband still should've understood where I was coming from. I think he's just a douchebag man, and this is probably normal. Men aren't exactly the best listeners.

It's raining again. And it's cold. The weather hates me.

I've been adding labels to my old blog posts to avoid doing dishes. I have like, half a load, and I just don't feel like doing much today. It's fun to label things. It's like labeling a piece of pie as "yummy".



Did I mention that Curious George 2 movie has a Star Trek reference in it?! SOFUCKINGAWESOME! For Klingon, press "Cha".

Word.





Random Tuesday Thoughts lives on! Just head on over to Stacy's amazing blog, Stacy Uncorked, grab a button, link yourself up, and blog on! Thank you for keeping us all random, Stacy!

Enjoy the rest of your day!

My Cat Only Loves Me When... A List

Today I want to talk about my cat. His name is Stephen. He's an abused rescue that I shoved in a cat carrier and moved from Louisiana to Georgia. He went from being born and raised by the hard-knocks of the streets, to being a fat and lazy house cat in the course of 13 hours. He's extremely intelligent; you only have to show him something once, and he's got it. He's also a really big pain-in-the-ass.

He knows he's loved, and he knows he's cute -- it's a dangerous combination.

He's still really skittish for some odd reason, even though he's babied like he's king-of-the-castle. I swear sometimes I think my Mom likes the cat more than me. You're welcome, old lady.

I think he's adapted well, and we enjoy the shit out of him. He's a constant source of joy and entertainment, and even when I have to spray him in the face with the water bottle for trying to tear something up, I still can't help but smile.

But.. he's just like every other cat: he only loves us when he wants to, which is never when it's convenient. I have compiled a list of times when he wants love and attention, and I'm going to share it with you guys. If you have cats, feel free to laugh, because you know they do it to everyone. If you have anything to add, add it in the comments.

My Cat Only Loves Me When:

- I have to pee.
- I'm trying to take a shower.
- I'm brushing my teeth.. my back teeth, and I haven't spit yet.
- I'm doing something to my hair with an extremely hot tool.
- I'm putting on eye liner, mascara, or eye shadow.. just the darker shades that are hard to get off without reapplying everything.
- I'm trying to sleep.
- I'm about to get up and do something.
- I'm cooking.
- I have just accepted the fact that he's not going to come be nice to me and I set my laptop desk up.
- I'm drinking something hot.. or cold.. and I just took that first big swallow, but haven't quite swallowed yet.
- I'm on the phone with someone other than family.
- The kid wants attention.
- I'm reading.
- I'm trying to clean up the kid's mess of small toys (meaning I end up digging them out from under things like beds, couches, chairs, and the one table in the house that you're always guaranteed to hit your head on).
- I'm not in the mood.
- He's hungry.
- I just fed him and I'm taking the scoop back to the container.
- While I'm trying to feed him, and I have a scoop of food and am not paying attention to him wrapping his self around my ankles.
- I'm doing laundry.
- I'm trying to wrangle the kid into the bathtub or bed.
- Mom is all "He hates me, he's never going to bond with me, emooooooo stuff!".
- I'm writing... like now.
- He thinks I have food.
- He knows I don't have food, but am contemplating getting up to get some.
- I'm thirsty.
- I'm trying to concentrate.
- I want to practice making babies with Husband.
- Husband is sitting next to me.
- Husband wants to hold my hand.
- I really, REALLY have to get up and go pee.
- I'm trying to play with him, which usually ends up in pouting and biting.
- Mom is trying to love on him.
- I'm carrying something that obstructs my vision.
- My screen saver comes up on my laptop.
- It's time to clip his nails so I feel really bad about holding him down.
- I'm standing in front of the heater.
- I'm getting something out of the oven.
- Did I mention when I'm trying to pee?

I never understood why kids and pets only want something to do with you when it's the worst possible time. It's like they have this sensor built-in to detect when you have something going on, so they can be all up in your shit with their huge eyes and their little noses.. DAMN THE CUTENESS! DAMN IT TO HELL!

And, to leave you wondering why in the hell I even waste your time with my blog in the first place, here's a few pictures of the little rat-bastard. I do love the little shit...

He gets between my legs at night so I can't move... asshole.

This one is from his "street" days...

I SEE U. Y U NO CAN MOVE? OH. IZ CUZ OF MEH.

POP ALL THE BUBBLES!

Why, no cat, I'm not trying to go pee.

Your Number Come-th Up, Judge-y Parent!

Okay, this is purely a rant blog. It in no way means I think that any one of my friends and fellow bloggers are these types of people. It does mean that others have encountered this shit in real life, away from the internet, and I feel like it needs to be said.. by me.. on this blog. I'm out to get the ones who make us not-so perfect parents feel like a bag of douche for not being as awesome and sun-shiny as they seem to think they are.

Hey! Guess what? You're not perfect and rainbows do not come falling out of your ass every time you fart. I don't like you. Most parents do not like you. Life? Yeah, life doesn't like you, either. No one likes a show-off. Or you. Because you're a fucking tool.

If you are easily offended, don't read this. If you read this and you're like "OMG THAT BITCH IS TALKING ABOUT ME!", you're wrong. I don't know you. This is about the kinds of shit that other parents have given me/others during the course of our lives as parents. Some of this has nothing to do with me, but I'm writing it the way I'm writing it because I'm awesome and I'm dedicated. I never reveal the sources of my inspiration. Get over yourself, most of this shit is hilarious as fuck. Just laugh, dammit!

Aaaaaanyhow, back to my rant. Well, the points of my rant.. Here are some reasons why I don't like you. I also got some pretty great fodder from some not-so amused dads. Apparently other moms are too nice to say mean things. I don't believe in "sticking together" if you can't fucking be nice. Go eat some mushy peas, mean-ass. Here are some letters to mull over while you stuff your judge-y face:

Dear 'Oblivious' Parent,

Is there any reason why you feel more inclined to talk shit about my clothes, my kid's clothes, or how I'm letting my kid/kids play on the playground, than pay attention to your own kid/kids? Because, I just want you to know, your kid has a face full of sand and something that resembles dog shit, and I'm not sure you care at this point. Oh, and while you were letting your kid/kids do shit like that, my kid was perfectly safe and happy and I was probably playing with her or watching her play like a fucking helicopter mom, you accomplished nothing by treating me like I'm on 'American Idol: Parenting Edition'. And your kid ate shit. I hope you get some all over your face because you still have no idea it happened. Like my top? I got it at fucking WALMART.


Dear 'Savvy' Parent,

I like your shoes. Were those on sale for $400 or $900? Oh, mine? I got mine at the fucking Dollar General. They were in the clearance bin for like a buck. With the money I saved, I bought my kid four new outfits, a new pair of shoes, and that bubble bath that costs more than all my beauty supplies combined. She likes it and it makes her smell like Jesus rubbed his awesomeness all over her. No, I don't mind that my shit looks old and ragged, because my kid has the best of everything and I work my fucking face off to make sure she never goes without. I like spending my money on her instead of me; it's the reason I'm a fucking GREAT mom. I may be on the lower-class side of life, but you'd never know that my kid doesn't have rich parents. I'm glad that you have lots of money, but why is your kid wearing Walmart while you wear Gucci? Thanks for making me feel like Parent of the Year. I needed that. My last pair of slacks that are work appropriate just ripped, and I was having a bad day.


Dear 'Awesome-Rack' Parent,

Congratulations! You fed your kid from your/your wife's boobies and not from a bottle. You achieved something so wonderful that the angels cry. Oh, me? Why didn't I breast feed my kid? BECAUSE I FUCKING COULDN'T! Thank you, though, for telling me I'm a terrible, no-good parent, and rubbing the glory of your success in my face. It makes me get this warm and fuzzy feeling deep inside my vag. I tried, and I was really down on myself for two fucking months because I couldn't have that bond with my kid. If you had bothered to ask before you sat on your titty pedestal, you might've saved some face. You just look like an asshole now. And, for the record, we bonded. We bonded the shit out of each other. That kid tells me every single day that I'm her best friend. She also got to bond like Gorilla Glue to her dad. It was awesome. We are awesome. Fuck you.


Dear 'Earth-Friendly' Parent,

I'm glad that you chose to use cloth diapers. That makes me happy for you, and I'm sure that you feel a little more righteous because you saved the fucking tree people or whatever -- awesome. I chose to use the diapers that I can throw away. It's my choice. I had enough shit thrown at me while my kid was in diapers, I didn't feel like dealing with washing them and drying them and wondering if shit was going to be stuck in my washer. Just because YOU did something, does NOT mean the rest of the world has to. Every parent has a choice and your way isn't always the only way. I know you feel this way because you're a martyr and you do so much good with your cloth diapers and your fucking ego, but no. Fuck that. You're not holy, you didn't save the tree people, and your washing machine probably smells funny. There, how do you like MY opinion? If it pisses you off, I did my job. Because you piss me off. A lot.


Dear 'Wow' Parent,

Your kid is not a testament to you. You kid is a kid; a human being. They aren't a prop. If you treat your kid like a fucking accessory, you're an asshole. You have no place to judge me or any other parent. You're the Paris Hilton of parents, and you suck. The end.


Dear 'Psycho Hippie' Parent,

Breast feeding your child when they're in pre-school is just creepy. I'm not doing it and it's not because I'm a bad parent. It's because I talked with my kid's pediatrician and I chose to go with her facts and not my own weird internet research. New age parents confuse me. If our parents fed us real food whenever we were ready, why can't you do that for your kid? You seem to be semi-stable and normal, meaning your parents did a good job with you. Why would you want to do something that isn't healthy for your kid for your own sake? You are also the 'Wow' parent.. making your statement. It's a really messed-up statement and I don't understand it, but it's there. I salute your decision in my own way. All I ask is that you stop telling me what's best for my kid.. because you don't know anything about her. You should also stop being so fucking high and mighty. No one likes people butting-in where they have no business sticking themselves in. I did what was right for my daughter, and she's a healthy, intelligent, well-adjusted little hellion that has gone through a lot in her three years of being alive. I think she's doing fan-fucking-tastic all things considered. If you think she needs formula at three, when it loses all nutritional value between 10-14 months, that's your opinion. Now, please go choke on it. Enjoy your day, you're very rude.



Okay, so the last one is from me.. but whatevs. I know a lot of parents feel like ass when other parents act like they've never had a breakdown, never had to deal with bullshit, never been stressed or tired, or they just have their fucking shit together all the time. I am calling you out, mean parents. STOP BEING SO DAMN AWFUL! Not every parent is the same, much like the children we rear. We all have different ways of coping with things and raising our kids. We were all raised differently. If you can't accept that not everyone is going to be as amazing as you think you are, you're a huge bag of ugly.

POWER TO THE COOL PARENTS!

We have meltdowns, we don't always like our kids even though we love them with every fiber of our being, we do the best we can with what we have, and our kids are the kids everyone wants to have. I love being 'Mommy' to my little tornado. She makes me mad, sad, tired, hyper, cry, smile, laugh, fuss, and amazed every time she comes into a room. I couldn't imagine my life without her in it, and I'm thankful every single day for her. I know I've had some days where I'm like "Baby Jesus, please give me a break!", but everyone has had those days. It's normal. It's called being a fucking parent. Try being a REAL parent sometime, judge-y parents.. you just might find it's a great experience. Also, when you try it and love it, apologize to the parents you've shit on over the years. Make our day.

I Found Some Things And Stuff At CES 2012 That I Thought You Might Like

And now I'm going to blog about them. I meant to do this yesterday, but I had some issues with one of my loan applications, and I spent almost the entire day dealing with patronizing, completely rude people. For once, I was nice, and I don't think I will ever make that mistake again. I'm better when I'm a total bitch.

Back to the point...

CES. OMG. STILL WANT ALL THE THINGS! Well, some of the things. This blog has things I would LOVE to have, and some that I just LOVE making fun of. Like I said, I'm better when I'm a total bitch.

See how I did that? Set you up with my personal bullshit and then tied it in? I'm a genius.


The Koala Mount by Dockem

It works kind-of like a picture frame for your iPad/iPad2. It uses the same concept that Command Adhesive Strips use to attach itself to the surface of your choice. That means no damage to anything you decide to stick it to. I saw the press pitch video and there was a dude and a fridge. I think my husband would have it attached to the bathroom wall. Maybe this would be a good compromise to a huge t.v?

There's a cord clip and a smart cover included. My only concern with this product is it's capability to accommodate other tablets. I'm thinking this thing will make money, but will it make the money that it has the potential to make if it's only Apple-friendly? I've seen some pretty sick tablets in the CES coverage, and they're not Apple products. I'll definitely be keeping an eye out for this and may even be purchasing one myself. I think the ability to mount your tablet when you get home or to the office is a great thing. Let's just hope Apple won't be the only tablet maker with a specific mount.


PureGear Innovation: 2012 Signature Lineup

I like that someone is challenging Otterbox. I'm finding their products to be less-protective and more annoying. Let's hope these cases, mounts, and general accessories are easier on the wallet. They're definitely easier on the eyes and more functional. They even have one with a sight built in. DO WANT! They're evolved and come in interesting colours and styles. I think I even caught a glimpse of some pretty interesting ear buds. I wouldn't mind owning one of these awesome cases with a mount to keep it handy in the car or on the go.


OnTrion Extended Life Batteries

FCC approved batteries for your smartphones. In short, they make your shit last longer. I would LOVE to see if these babies actually extend phone life through all the app opening and Facebook/Twitter trolling we do on a daily basis. As far as I know, they're going to be available for a variety of phones, and while they make cost a bit more than a regular battery, it would definitely be worth it to know your phone isn't going to die when you aren't near a charger. If you're getting chased by zombies and you need to phone-a-friend, you're covered. There's battery life for that.


Net Nanny: Now Mobile!

Net Nanny launched their mobile service at CES this year. That's exciting.. I think. I hope people with younger kids begging and snotting for iPhones and iPads will take full advantage of this service, but it's not something I'm worrying about yet.

Net Nanny is famous for their amazing PC protection. They block profanity, sites, and other icky things your kids shouldn't be allowed to see. They're now extending that coverage to mobile devices, and I think I'm going to be calling my sister very soon. She bought my 11 year-old niece and my 7 year-old nephew those Playstation phones for Christmas, and I think that they would benefit from a service that keeps them off sites that could potentially lead a creepy Pedo-bear to their door. Also, I cuss like a sailor and my niece follows me on Twitter. I would rather her not see those posts if it can be avoided even though she knows me for exactly who I am.


LELO Massagers

Something about Sense Motion and Sense Touch... whatevs. They still look like a vibrator from The Jetsons. They're fancy, nicely executed upper class vibrators. Enjoy the power!

ClarityOne Audio

Apparently they produce sound so pure, it'll blow you..r mind. Okay, I'm down. You come blow me.. away and I'll set you up for a new review. But, for now, here's what I've got for you:

 Your design? Did you collab with LELO during the design process? I'm not even kidding. Ear Dildos. Your advertising? Come on, if you really had a good, solid product, you wouldn't be producing soft porn to get the word out.

Now, like I said, if you come blow me, we'll talk about maybe giving you a fucking mulligan. For now, this is where we stand. I am not impressed. My dollar store ear buds entice me more. They were three bucks, and they make sound go into my ears and not the room. Problem solved.


USB 3.0 Optical Repeater Over Fiber

Okay, Newnex, if you send me one of these for free, I will be your slave. Forever.

I love everything about USB 3.0. It's one of the coolest things I ever got for my computer. But, like they said, I can't do much with the 2 feet of cable I was supplied.

THEY HAVE REMEDIED MY PAIN AND SUFFERING! *profound bowing*

Up to, but not limited to 100 meters, 200 meters, the moon. Okay, not sure it'll go that far, but who knows? My mind? It is blown. I've nerdgasmed over this since I first heard about it. I can't imagine how amazing it will be when I finally have my hands on it. This is one of my favourite products from this year's CES. It's a practical solution to a common problem, and I'm thinking it won't be too overly-expensive. I paid about $200 for my USB 3.0, so I'm thinking for something like this, I will be saving up around $350. Money well-spent if I get amazing 3.0 without being chained down.

I BE FREE!


VPulse by Velodyne

These things? They seem like a whole lot of effort for ear buds. But after watching the press pitch and seeing some floor coverage, I came to realize that these might just be some of the coolest ear buds I've ever seen. I may even find myself ordering a pair when I can.

The feature an aluminum driver housing for distortion reduction. I like this. Most ear buds sound like your annoying neighbors Honda. You know, the one with the tailpipes from Walmart that make it sound like a really pissed-off bee in a tin can? Well, these will sound more like a regular pair of headphones. I can't always carry a pair of Beats around with me, so these would be nice for on-the-go music sessions.

They have noise reduction built-in and two sets of different sizes of ear pieces. For someone like me, who has a toddler, a husband, and oddly-shaped ears, these two features alone make me pull out my debit card and hit the "add to cart" button.

They come in funky colours and the ear pieces are black or white gel material (I'm assuming it's a gel-like material). They look comfy and they're pretty much custom ear buds for everyone. Add in the flat cord and super nice travel case, and I'm picking express shipping and hanging out around the door until they get here.


Sensics Smart Goggles with the power of Android

Please, just google the shit out of these babies. I can't even put my feelings into words. I'm sure that there are flaws, but my GOD they're pretty.


Zienon Touch-Free Gesture Control Technology

If you want to feel like a Jedi, get this shit installed in your house ASAP. Want to turn your lights on and off just by flipping your fingers around? This is your product. Want to possibly go through a divorce because you start talking like Vader or Yoda every time your spouse turns around, because oh-my-fucking-god it's amazing? Get this.




And this, my friends, ends my list of products that are awesome, and not-so awesome. I got most of my info from doing some mad-crazy Google stalking and cesweb.org. I recommend doing some research of your own, checking out Spike TV and G4TV sites, and What's Trending. There is so much bad ass tech coming out this year, I am pretty sure my husband thinks I'm a loser. I spend our random phone conversations recapping, and like I blogged about earlier this week, I'm pretty sure he may be asking me to not to touch him with my nerd germs.

CES 2012 has been like nerd porn for me. When I haven't been swamped with work and school drama and motherhood, I've been glued to the coverage. I want to chuck all our stuff out the window and buy all the new tech! I want to spend my life holding hands with some of this stuff. I drool in excess. I'm totally in love with how far we've come and what's going to be the new standard this year.

This is obviously going to be a year of breakthrough tech and a whole new ballgame. I just hope you don't have to be a billionaire to afford being with the times.



DISCLAIMER: I didn't add in pictures and videos for everything because I'm a bitch. I am teasing you so you'll go check this shit out for yourself. Enjoy the techno-blue balls! :)

My Obsession With CES 2012 Could Possibly Ruin My Sex Life.

And I'm not exaggerating. I just spent an entire phone conversation with my husband recapping the technological wonders that I was graced with thanks to Attack of the Show and Spike TV's coverage of CES 2012. I could hear his eyes glazing over and his attention span waning. He eventually gave me a polite "fuck this, I'm out" and we hung up.

I immediately forgot all about him and turned back to the t.v, Twitter, Facebook, and C|net. I pulled myself away long enough to evaluate the massive level of douche in my actions and considered it rude of him to dismiss my excitement.

I think I need help.

But have you seen the new HP Ultrabook? The wireless router that Asus is turning out? DID YOU KNOW THERE WILL BE ROBOTS?! OMFG! Unfortunately, Bieber is endorsing the robots in question, which turns me off a little -- but not enough to un-glue myself from the t.v tomorrow.

I can't wait to scour every corner that my available media choices will let me. CES is always like my Christmas. I always hate my tech gear for about a month afterward, but it's worth it to see what the future holds.

OMFG RAZER GAMING TABLET! Total nerdgasm, right there. That thing looks fucking sick!

I'm tweeting my excitement, and boring my friends on Facebook. I will most likely blog again when I see something that makes me have to change my pants. Enjoy delving into the little-known corner of my life -- complete nerd.

Cooking Like A Pro On A Budget

Isn't as easy as it sounds. I recently dropped hella cash on tuition and stupid house insurance and taxes and life and my hours got cut at work, so I'm broke. I mean, I'm not exaggerating -- I'm brooooooke.

But, we still have to eat around here, and I am not into the whole hamburger helper scene, so I have to plan two weeks worth of meals and make an iron-clad shopping list that sticks to an even tighter budget. It's not that I can't do it, because I do, it's that it's really hard to find quality ingredients when your friendly commissary is three hours away. That leaves local stores and Walmart to get me through the rough times.

Without an arsenal of hoarded coupons, I usually manage to save around $150 every two weeks on the essentials. There's no junk food or packaged snacks. Everything we have here is 96% homemade. I even make potato chips and tortilla chips myself. Yeah, that broke.

So, in order to showcase my mad shopping skills and the meals that result, here is my two week plan that started Thursday of last week:

Meals:
-Chicken in wild mushroom cream sauce, wild rice & barley, fresh green beans & almonds sauteed in olive oil.
-Spinach, Italian sausage, and mushroom pizza with a mozzarella, feta, and parmigiana cheese blend.
-BBQ shredded chicken sandwiches and veggie pasta salad -- broccoli, carrots, Chinese cabbage, baby corn,  fresh green peas, and squash.
-Taco Night -- ground beef tacos with green leaf lettuce, fresh green onions, black bean and white corn salsa, sour cream, taco blend cheese, and tortilla chips.
-Butterbeans and cornbread with ham for the pork eaters in the family.
-Spaghetti with homemade sauce and spinach vermicelli, garlic bread, and mixed green salad.
-Fresh rosemary & garlic baked chicken with mashed potatoes, gravy, and grilled asparagus.
-Fresh green bean casserole with salad and homemade french bread -- includes ground beef.
-Fend-For-Yourself-Night (essentially leftover night, because I hate wasting food) several times.
-Four-cheese pizza with mixed green salad.

So, that's a lot of food; all of which is pretty impressive. I set myself a $150 budget for two weeks of groceries. I have a lot of it at the house already, so I usually just buy up the fresh veggies and fruits, dairy products, and odds and ends I will need to make meals.

I went to Walmart and Dill's this time. I skipped Bi-Lo because they just didn't have the things I needed on sale, even with the Bonus Card. I spent $76 at Walmart with a savings of $126 off the original price, and I spent around $20 at Dill's with a savings of $26. That brings two weeks worth of groceries down to under $100 and I didn't use one coupon. I even bought a few little things that I really didn't need, like my beef teriyaki noodles and two cans of Pringles.

Okay, okay, I'm pretty much bragging on my skills, but I know if I can make it work, more people in my situation can make it work. Things are going to pick back up, but my budgeting is always the same. I cut corners like they're illegal to make sure there's always a little extra. A cushion is always nice.

I've already made the spinach pizza and tonight is the chicken in wild mushroom sauce. I really hope the rest of the next two weeks is flavorful enough to keep everyone happy.