June 15, 2010

Random Ramblings Including Having Babies with 50 Cent

My life was sort of threatened today by a friend who said I better not ever go on a long non-writing stretch again because she is "addicted" to my writing.

I so love her. She should definitely visit my archives. . .often, as should the rest of you. Back then I was funny, witty and I actually wrote about karate every once in a while. Ah, the good old days.

I wish I was addicted to my own writing these days, but I think I've been sapped by lack of creativity due to a thankless data entry volunteer job and sheer exhaustion resulting from that. Being on the board of directors is highly overrated and extremely thankless. A neighbor and friend once told me that being on a board of any kind can open up avenues to paying board jobs. I would like to know where those are and would also like to say, "Hey, I'm your gal. Look no further."

Since I don't have any one thing in particular to say today, but because I'm feeling my life might be threatened if I don't put fingers to keyboard and write something, anything. . . I thought I would provide a rambling account of various things that you can do with them what you will:

First: do not ever opt to go for the heavier weights when doing that inner-thigh squeezer machine thing after not doing that machine for like eight months. Just don't do it. I went from walking like a primate from sore abs to walking like someone trying to keep a nickle between her thighs. In case you're wondering, neither are attractive ways for a young (or even an old) lady to walk. Just don't do it. Always opt for the easier weight. Always. Use this bit of advice as your work-out bible. It is practically the word of God, or at least BBM, which is practically the same thing (or not at all).

Second: I'd like to just put it out there that if I get to be the ripe old age of 75 plus and I start doing my hair like George Washington used to, and/or complaining about random things that no one in particular has any control over, and/or begin demanding liver and onions at restaurants, I'd like to put it out there that I would enjoy being put out of my misery at this point. I've given my husband carte blanche to put me out of my misery if I start acting all old and crazy and I'm now giving my blog readers the opportunity as well. Of course, you should probably discuss this with my husband first, in case he'd like first dibs. But seriously, if I'm a grumpy old gal, do me a favor. (I guess I should start working on my attitude because I'm kind of a grumpy younger-ish girl right now.)

Third: I am going to BlogHer in August and I know not a soul who is going. While many of you might think that I am a social butterfly, I might end up going all the way to New York in order to sit in my hotel room and order room service out of sheer anxiety and discomfort at not knowing a soul. It's my first time; be gentle with me, and please let's be friends beforehand, k? Email me! No seriously, email me! I am a good friend and known for buying drinks for new friends. I'm a good girl to know.

Finally: a confession. I am addicted to Jack Johnson and 50 Cent. I realize how odd and weird a juxtaposition this is, and I'm not sure what to make of it. All I know is that one minute, I am craving hearing about bubbly toes and the next minute, I am bopping around to the tune of "Have a baby by me, baby, be a millionaire." I'm thinking it's the millionaire part is what I'm liking so much, but the catchy beat can not be denied. Is there anyone who can help me out with the whole 50 Cent "be a millionaire" thing, or do I seriously need to go have a baby with 50 Cent?

Yep, I think I'll leave you on that note.