Oh, interwebs. I missed you.
So much so that I sat here most of my morning searching for gifs of people making out or like slowly running into each other's arms on the beach. Then I was convinced I either wanted one of Westley kissing Princess Buttercup or Squints faking out Wendy Peffercorn. Yep. I missed you that much.
(That gif mission was a total fail, by the way. Mostly because I clicked on a few links that were like... porn gifs? Why would I want a 2 second porn on loop? Anyhow, clicking around on mini-porn isn't really good for job security. You guys can just imagine the sloppy Lor kisses. Muahz.)
Why all the love? I mean, I usually don't post on the weekends in favor ofdrinking, dancing, and being amazing shopping, loafing and eating a lot. Well, in case you hadn't heard me boo-hoo about it yet, my laptop was stolen. Which brings me to:
1.) Born in the ghetto, raised in the hood. The last time I was in New Jersey with my family, my father took me on a tour of the neighborhood I was born in. I was 3 when we moved from Jersey to Florida. I have no memories of that time.
My father, though, remembers it fondly. He took me by the grocery store he would often walk to, and saw a man he recognized walking out of the store. They stopped and chatted like 20 years hadn't passed by. He pointed out all the places he would park his car. He pointed to houses and named people who lived there. He parked outside the two story house I was born in and explained that back then, each story including the basement and attic was home to a family. We lived on the second floor.
I looked around at the row of narrow houses, painted in grays or lined with brick. I remember being amazed at how close together each house was, and thinking that they were all missing yards.
He wanted to knock on the door, but I begged him not to. "Hi, I used to live here," is not an amazing opening line. I think I've seen that in a movie, or ten. Instead he grabbed my hand, squeezed it and we drove away. He was studying my face a lot, no doubt looking for traces of the baby the neighborhood reminded him of. I just smiled, unattached to all my surroundings, but amused by my father's nostalgia.
We moved 21 years ago and basically, our neighborhood has gone to the crapper.
Our house got broken into on Friday. Again.
When the Poop who broke in set off the alarm, he went on a mad-dash-grabbing-spree and my laptop was on the small list of things he managed to scoop away. My father and sister were walking into the house as the Poop was running out and jumping the fence.
What the hell? When did bars on the windows become dinner time chat? Why are there drug dealer houses on our block? And why is it all under the facade of a quiet neighborhood and nice neighbors? I blame the recession. Thanks a lot guys.
2.) In other news, people suck. It hit me when I was driving home later that day that I'm an idiot who didn't have the stuff on her laptop properly backed up. I mourned for the pictures I remembered, my niece's birth, our trips to baseball games and beaches. I thought of the thousands of music files which I was so careful about organizing and gathering. I thought about words I'd written, stories and characters I'd dreamed up and was only ever brave enough to share on a Word file. All lost forever.
People really freakin' suck. I feel...violated. And I'll be honest, I pretty much wished that this Poop's hands would fall off. Then I felt bad and 24 years of sitting in church came bubbling up and I felt like maybe I should forgive him.
So I forgive you even though you fudgin' SUCK for breaking into my house and taking my stuff. I hope your kids (who no doubt are in desperate need of guitar lessons) enjoy their Bratz dolls and Wii games on me.
3.) How about that throbbing member? Roxanne, Penny and I ended up wandering around Barnes and Noble at some point this weekend. We went on a rant about several things. (I know I'm already counting, but this seems like a good time for a 1bcat. Whatever. I do what I want.)
1. When people say they don't read, it's such a major womp. What do you mean?! I'd rather you tell me you enjoy Twilight or a wide variety of backs of shampoo than say you don't read. Reading, after all is FUNdamental. (Thanks elementary school!)
b. Apparently, I'm the only one who doesn't like Hoooney. Penny had a 20 minute conversation with him, where he was plenty nice. Also, I got called mean. What the hell? Beause I was the one drunk and throwing $100 bills around? Instead of being embarrassed for himself, and apologizing for being the tooliest tool who ever tooled, this grown man gets to whine and whimper about how mean I am. Right.
And then Penny says, "we had a nice conversation."
WHATEVER. I'm sticking to my guns on this one: he sucks. And there is nothing appealing about him. And if I were Roxanne, and there was really no one else at work, I'd pick speaking to lunch meat sandwiches. Stupid head.
cat. We always feel a little uncomfortable walking by the romance section. None of us can read the genre, because as Roxanne put it, "If I have to read about anyone's throbbing member, I may kill myself. That doesn't even sound attractive. A throbbing member sounds like it hurts."
Maybe I should've wished that upon the Poop who stole my stuff.
Oh wait, I forgave him. Just kidding. Merry Christmas.
4. Bah, humbug! I'm really iffy right now about this Christmas deal. I wasn't feeling it and then Christmas threw up all over my living room and it was sort of cute. Then someone stole my stuff and I hate everything including Christmas. Now, it's all like 50-something degrees out and I might freeze my imaginary nuts off and I want a hot chocolate and chestnuts roasting on an open fire. And then people laugh at me for thinking 50-something is cold.
6.) Anyways, I'm in love. With Pink's new puppy:
So much so that I sat here most of my morning searching for gifs of people making out or like slowly running into each other's arms on the beach. Then I was convinced I either wanted one of Westley kissing Princess Buttercup or Squints faking out Wendy Peffercorn. Yep. I missed you that much.
(That gif mission was a total fail, by the way. Mostly because I clicked on a few links that were like... porn gifs? Why would I want a 2 second porn on loop? Anyhow, clicking around on mini-porn isn't really good for job security. You guys can just imagine the sloppy Lor kisses. Muahz.)
Why all the love? I mean, I usually don't post on the weekends in favor of
Seven Scattered Thoughts Because When You Have No Internet, You Think A Lot
1.) Born in the ghetto, raised in the hood. The last time I was in New Jersey with my family, my father took me on a tour of the neighborhood I was born in. I was 3 when we moved from Jersey to Florida. I have no memories of that time.
My father, though, remembers it fondly. He took me by the grocery store he would often walk to, and saw a man he recognized walking out of the store. They stopped and chatted like 20 years hadn't passed by. He pointed out all the places he would park his car. He pointed to houses and named people who lived there. He parked outside the two story house I was born in and explained that back then, each story including the basement and attic was home to a family. We lived on the second floor.
I looked around at the row of narrow houses, painted in grays or lined with brick. I remember being amazed at how close together each house was, and thinking that they were all missing yards.
He wanted to knock on the door, but I begged him not to. "Hi, I used to live here," is not an amazing opening line. I think I've seen that in a movie, or ten. Instead he grabbed my hand, squeezed it and we drove away. He was studying my face a lot, no doubt looking for traces of the baby the neighborhood reminded him of. I just smiled, unattached to all my surroundings, but amused by my father's nostalgia.
We moved 21 years ago and basically, our neighborhood has gone to the crapper.
Our house got broken into on Friday. Again.
When the Poop who broke in set off the alarm, he went on a mad-dash-grabbing-spree and my laptop was on the small list of things he managed to scoop away. My father and sister were walking into the house as the Poop was running out and jumping the fence.
What the hell? When did bars on the windows become dinner time chat? Why are there drug dealer houses on our block? And why is it all under the facade of a quiet neighborhood and nice neighbors? I blame the recession. Thanks a lot guys.
2.) In other news, people suck. It hit me when I was driving home later that day that I'm an idiot who didn't have the stuff on her laptop properly backed up. I mourned for the pictures I remembered, my niece's birth, our trips to baseball games and beaches. I thought of the thousands of music files which I was so careful about organizing and gathering. I thought about words I'd written, stories and characters I'd dreamed up and was only ever brave enough to share on a Word file. All lost forever.
People really freakin' suck. I feel...violated. And I'll be honest, I pretty much wished that this Poop's hands would fall off. Then I felt bad and 24 years of sitting in church came bubbling up and I felt like maybe I should forgive him.
So I forgive you even though you fudgin' SUCK for breaking into my house and taking my stuff. I hope your kids (who no doubt are in desperate need of guitar lessons) enjoy their Bratz dolls and Wii games on me.
3.) How about that throbbing member? Roxanne, Penny and I ended up wandering around Barnes and Noble at some point this weekend. We went on a rant about several things. (I know I'm already counting, but this seems like a good time for a 1bcat. Whatever. I do what I want.)
1. When people say they don't read, it's such a major womp. What do you mean?! I'd rather you tell me you enjoy Twilight or a wide variety of backs of shampoo than say you don't read. Reading, after all is FUNdamental. (Thanks elementary school!)
b. Apparently, I'm the only one who doesn't like Hoooney. Penny had a 20 minute conversation with him, where he was plenty nice. Also, I got called mean. What the hell? Beause I was the one drunk and throwing $100 bills around? Instead of being embarrassed for himself, and apologizing for being the tooliest tool who ever tooled, this grown man gets to whine and whimper about how mean I am. Right.
And then Penny says, "we had a nice conversation."
WHATEVER. I'm sticking to my guns on this one: he sucks. And there is nothing appealing about him. And if I were Roxanne, and there was really no one else at work, I'd pick speaking to lunch meat sandwiches. Stupid head.
cat. We always feel a little uncomfortable walking by the romance section. None of us can read the genre, because as Roxanne put it, "If I have to read about anyone's throbbing member, I may kill myself. That doesn't even sound attractive. A throbbing member sounds like it hurts."
Maybe I should've wished that upon the Poop who stole my stuff.
Oh wait, I forgave him. Just kidding. Merry Christmas.
4. Bah, humbug! I'm really iffy right now about this Christmas deal. I wasn't feeling it and then Christmas threw up all over my living room and it was sort of cute. Then someone stole my stuff and I hate everything including Christmas. Now, it's all like 50-something degrees out and I might freeze my imaginary nuts off and I want a hot chocolate and chestnuts roasting on an open fire. And then people laugh at me for thinking 50-something is cold.
Plus, I've got bones to pick with the holiday, anyways.
1. Dammit, I hate to see Christmas decorated houses, where only ONE STRAND of lights is blinking and the rest aren't. WHAT THE HELL? Either make them all blink or not. It irritates my liver so much.
b. Christmas music is getting worse. I promise you it is. How many people have to bastardize Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer before we stop letting pop singers do Christmas albums. HOW MANY?
cat. Santa hats at work. Make it stop.
In other news, I own this nail polish. YAY CHRISTMAS.
5.) Have I mentioned that people suck? Penny joined a dating site a little bit ago. I tried to get her to guest blog about it but apparently my friends are becoming blog-allergic. But let me share this with you from there:
I was stuck on the part where he spelled ignorant wrong.yeaah thats right,i dont date ignorent black women. its not an opening line,its the truth...and i was just giving you fair warning so you dont act like a bich with me,and screw up your oppurtunity of dating me...cuz im a good man...
6.) Anyways, I'm in love. With Pink's new puppy:
I want him to be my puppy.
7.) People read this?! I think the whole blogging experience would be tons different if I weren't anonymous. I got a taste of that this weekend when Ting Ting mentioned the blog. She exclaimed, "I'm Ting Ting!" and my heart stopped for a second. I asked her how she even knew about the blog and then I immediately remembered that she follows us on Twitter.
This whole 'people I know read my blog' thing is strange to say the least. How do you guys deal with it? The blog-promiscuous-woman and the shy girl in me are battling.
Because half the time you get a Louie Lane, or an Antonio Telemundo or a Ting Ting who read and laugh.
And then the other half of the time you get a Vyelit ("scarred for life" were her words after reading) or Phoenix (who copied something mean I'd written about him and pasted it on my Facebook wall) or a crazy girlfriend (who waited for me after organic lab to try and beat me up a la 1999.)
I love writing this too much. I couldn't take the risk of more people reading it and not getting it.
I yelled at Roxanne multiple times this weekend for not blogging. I actually said something along the lines of "you can't not blog forever" and I got a "I can't?" in response.
Sigh.
I like you guys silly. Hope all of your weekends went well and that you still have all your stuff.
15 comments:
I`m glad I`m not the only one who`s neurotic about Christmas decorations/lights. My mom drove Jessie and me around the other night to look at the houses around town, but she ended up spending the majority of the time yelling at us for being too judgemental or something. ( I don`t know, I wasn`t really paying attention.) I absoultely despise it when the decorations and light colors don`t coordinate in the least bit, or when people use all one color of lights and then randomly have one strand that`s another color, or when the strand hangs off of the window and awkwardly down the side of the house because that`s where the outlet happens to be and they`re too lazy to grab an extention cord and position the lights so that they only encompass the window. And don`t even get me started on the people who hang like one miniscule wreath and a single strand of lights from their porch. What`s the point?! Ok, so maybe no one is as neurotic about Christmas decorations as I am, but I just happen to be very particular when it comes to what I find asthetically pleasing. Is that a crime??
Also, that has got to be the cutest puppy on the face of the Earth!
I don't like Hoooooney, either. Him throwing that 100 dollar bill down reminded me of that scene from Keeping up with the Kardashians when Kourtney's drunken boyfriend stuffed a C-note into a waiter's mouth because he wouldn't serve him a drink. TOOL and a HALF!
They actually tell you your lips look soft?? That is like totes creepy, like sex-offender creepy. Ditch the site!! With that nail polish, you can get anyone you want!!
i always struggle with being public on my blog. while i'm totally anonymous in the sense that if you found the blog you wouldn't know who wrote it, nearly ALL of my friends (and 50% of my co-workers) know where it is and can read it. I mean, in general, these are all people that I talk about sex and other TMI ridiculousness with, but sometimes when I talk about serious shit - like negative feelings I have - I get really awkies about it.
but then i think about how much i like writing and also how much i shouldn't care about what people think. i kind of have the philosophy that the friends who get it will get it and read it and love it. the friends that think it's weird or whatever will not read it. also, i try to limit who i tell about it. the reason why only 50% of people at work know about it is because the other 50% i don't know if i want them to read it. so i think if you try to contain it, you can avoid any crazy reactions.
this is crazy rambly, lol, but those are my basic thoughts.
Girl, you are too, too much! 1becat always cracks my ass up.
And those Christmas lights? Seriously. You know what's worse? ONLY ONE BLINKING LIGHT PERIOD. Last year, Loco's dad had their lights up and only ONE light blinked. My liver is hurting now.
And I like to picture what you look like.
This is what I picture: A chestnut-humping unicorn with oversized sunglasses toting a bazooka and a laptop.
FUCK DUDE, your laptop? Horrible. I had a hard drive stolen once from me. I lost all of my music and samples and many photos.
The story about your dad was especially cute. One time I went back to my old neighborhood in Boston and my friends wouldn't let me knock on the door. Le sigh.
SN that dog is pretty cute.
With the blog anonymity thing, I always knew that I'd be too much of a blabber mouth to keep it from people I chat to on a regular basis, so I always write with the idea in my mind that my own grandparents could be reading it.
Or even a potential employer. I mean, my address is my name for crying out loud.
I'm really sorry to hear about the robbery, but I'm really glad you and your family are groovy.
*Squeeze*
We love you to bits, too.
Pretty sure I've seen you mention the laptop being stolen multiple times and every time, I think "I should back my shit up." And what do I do?
Nothing.
Fail.
I'm sorry about Poop breaking into your house and stealing your laptop. =(
But I love your nail polish !I bought about 4 different colors last week. I dedicated my shopping trip to you. I kept thinking, "What colors would Lorraine wear?"
PUPPY SQUEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!
I've had 40 hits in the past week from my home town. It's making me nervous nelly, for reals, so I know how you feel.
I'm very super sorry that some asshole broke into your house. =[ People are the worst.
I often think that I should have given Hubs and I pen names, but since mine started out as a wedding planning blog, I didn't think about it until recently. Oh, well.
Also? I desperately want a puppy. I think to force Jeff into getting me one, I'm going to start talking about babies all day everyday. And since he won't want to give me a baby, he'll give me a puppy that I can mother instead. Perfect plan, right? I win.
You are like ridiculously close to me. Craziness!
So, I have decided that your blog kind of rocks, and intend to continue reading it.
As far as online dating in SoFlo goes- I met my bf on Craigslist. ROFL! I should probably get an award for that, because I don't know anyone else who has met anyone for anything meaningful from there.. would not recommend it to you, but you will find some even more hilarious responses from dudes on there. Once as a joke I did a post saying I was looking for a man who would treat me like a cactus and to email me with descriptions on how we would interact, AND I got like 10 responses!
If I ever find the puppy pictured it most certainly will be mine!
Okay, who DOESN'T want a gif of mini-porn? Just kidding. I totally don't. It's weird and wrong.
And I got caught up on your Twilight book reference. I don't consider that reading. I consider it murder to your brain. I'd rather people say they read cereal boxes or something over Twilight.
And when in doubt about anything, or when you need a scapegoat for people, blame the recession! :)
Stacey - Nope, definitely not the only one. I was originally going to go on a rant about stuff, ESPECIALLy about the "too lazy to get an extension cord" syndrom but I figured the post was long enough. The random strand of colors? GAH. I'm so, so happy it isn't just me.
He is the cutest puppy ever.
Tsa - I've never seen that show, and now I have a good reason never to. That sounds terrible! Just. Like. Hoooney.
Bi - RIGHT?! Sometimes I get "you have a nice smile." Fine. Then there is "you have nice lips," which meh. It's so vaguely sexual. But "your lips look soft?!" WHAT THE FEEZY?
CJ - None of co-workers and maybe like 3 friends know about it. And the feelings is what gets me too. Like fine, read about my nail polish and zebra cakes, but please don't read about my emotions! Awkies indeed. Thanks for your rambles. :)
Mandy - ONE LIGHT? My fauxCD would've gone wild. And um, thank you? lol. I'm pretty sure I've never been called a chestnut-humping unicorn. But I do wear oversized sunglasses. And me toting a bazooka and a laptop makes me sound badass. I'll take it.
Erin - YES. It sucks SO HARD. Yeah, good on your friends. Knocking on the door is never okay unless you like stashed money in the walls or something. That you are willing to share with the current owners. Otherwise you have to bash them on the head and then things get messy.
TSC - Thank you baby doll *hugs* I think the reason that I felt the need to be anonymous is because I can't think of one thing I CAN write about that my parent's would be okay with. Hmmph.
Ashley - #backyoshitup
Angie - Thank you and OMG, I feel so honored. Honestly, that comment made me all giddy inside. WWLW? What Would Lorraine Wear? :)
Sara - DUDE. People are stalking you. It's only a matter of time... Not to scare you or anything. ;)
Marissa - Thank you, and people are sucky. Not like you, but you know, other people. Obviously you are awesome if you came up with the puppy OR baby plan. It sounds genius to me.
Casey - I KNOW. I only know of one other south Florida blogger. Weirdness. And thank you. I like to rock. Craigslist, eh? JAYKAY. I don't want to tempt the Universe and end up with a serial killer. :(
Christina - I know what I'm getting you for Christmas! Mini-porn-gif, hey! I'm glad you know just how bad Twilight is. It makes me love you more. Plus you blame the recession. OH, you are so IN.
Lorraine
1. Ugghhhh I'm so sorry that happened! So sad!
2. Nail polish... must have.
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