Wednesday, November 25, 2015

an all inclusive list of 15 TYPES of selfies that people take

Ah, the selfie - or, the self portrait.  There seem to be no limits to when and where selfies are taken these days. Every social media site is exploding with millions of them.  In fact, as of this summer, "selfie" is an actual word in the dictionary.  Did you know that?   

Taking a picture of yourself is a way of trying to understand how people see you, who you are and what you look like.  Most people see selfies as a form of narcissism, yet everyone seems to do it.  I do it.  On those sites like Facebook, Instagram and Snapchat, selfies are totally the norm.  You see photo ops happening everywhere.  I'd like to think there's a time and place for selfies... but oh wait, no.  No, there isn't.  Apparently funerals, bathroom stalls, elevators, driving on the highway, next to a rattlesnake, falling off of a mountain - they are all considered appropriate.  I do not take selfies at funerals, while going to the bathroom or while driving.  I'm far too chicken to take a selfie next to a rattlesnake or other wild dangerous animal because, really? Just wanted to point that out.  And I'm pretty sure I have yet to take a selfie in an elevator but I did take a picture in an elevator recently, but that was only because the elevator wall had a cool thing on it.  I was not actually in that elevator picture. 

The thing is, those sites aren't about reality - they are a well thought-out fantasy, an emphasis on our lives that show off perfected versions of ourselves that we want people to remember, that we want to put out there in a space where others can browse through them with admiration and envy.  That is why most of the photos are lovely and entertaining and not the sucky moments in between those perfect slices of life that are being put out there.  Because let's face it, nobody wants to see sucky moments.  

So I've put together a little list of the various types of selfies that people seem to take because lists! and also you know I'm all giving like that.  It is almost Thanksgiving, guys.

The "candid" selfie -  The one where a friend takes a picture of you posing to look like you aren't posing.  But we all know that you are really posing.

The dressing room selfie -  Because you need that validation from all of your friends that your ass looks great in those booty shorts.

The Starbucks coffee selfie - So everyone knows you can afford the expensive coffee!

The half selfie - Because you had an unpleasant zit on that other cheek...  oh we know...

The post workout, I'm super fit, selfie -  Sweaty gym selfie so everyone know's you are fit AF.  

The I'm beautiful AND deep selfie - A perfect selfie with a meaningful quote from a quote generator, not an actual book that you actually read.

The dirty mirror selfie - I just have to show you how on fleek my eyebrows look today, but don't mind the filthy mirror that I can't get around to cleaning?

The dirty bedroom selfie - I'm hot, and also a slob...  A hot slob, if you will.

The toilet selfie - Because you looked really good that time you were on the toilet for a while? Come on, that's gross. Nobody cares.  I promise.  

The OMG I just saw a celebrity selfie - OK I would probably take a celebrity selfie if I had guts. Because if I stumbled across Mark Ruffalo and he smiled at me with that cutie little face, and stood near me and maybe even put his arm around me for the pic like nice celebrities do, I'd want/need to document the shit out of it.

The duck face selfie - The selfie in which your lips look like a duck's face.  Can't we all get over this one already??  It is super played out. 

The mocking duck face selfie - The one where you take a duck face selfie just to show everyone that you know you are making a duck face, but you don't actually mean it, you're only doing it to make fun of other duck face people. Riiiighhht...

The fake sleeping selfie - These just crack me up.  I imagine you closing your eyes and holding the camera at just the right angle so you can try to capture how you look really cute while you sleep and you also just so happen to be in your bunny PJ's snuggling your teddy bear like only a cute person would.  Or something.  

The crying selfie - Because you were so sad you wanted to take a picture of it to document your sadness for all of the world to see and comment on?

The I'm so dangerous selfie - The kind of selfie you take when you are on the edge of a cliff or like, next to a raging buffalo.  So everyone knows you aren't scared.  Of cliffs.  And 2000 pound raging, snorting animals with sharp mean horns and a good reason to want to pummel you.

Am I missing any??

Tuesday, November 24, 2015

blog cheating and stuff

One of my pre-resolutions is going to be getting back to the blogging thing.  Because whatever, I just feel like writing stuff.  Even if it is boring, or doesn't have any relevance.  

I have something to admit.  

I've actually been writing on another blog for a while.  Ugh, I know.  I'm ashamed.  I'm sorry!  I jumped ship here and started fresh somewhere else because I was thinking maybe it would be easier and you know, who knows if it is or not, but I kind of feel guilty and I should probably ditch that other blog.  I promise there is no great amazing content that you would care about or miss or anything.  It's just pretty much lame old, same old me.

I have noticed that I seriously only wrote four posts on this blog this year.  FOUR.  None of them were important or great or exciting.  Mostly they were about the fact that I hadn't written.  Which was obvious.  I suppose I didn't really need to point that out.

I've been re-reading the posts of the past and it's so obvious to me, that I was struggling.  I see where I went from being generally happy, generally normal, regular me to sad and erratic and scattered and pensive and like, downdowndown.  I don't know if anyone else would pick up on the subtle change, but I did, like, immediately.  I was reading along and I was like, ohhh.

Kind of like watching a train wreck.  You know it's going to be really shitty for a while but it's hard to look away.

Anyway, I think that the struggling part is getting better.  I'm more clear headed.  I'm a little harder, I think.  I still have a lot of stuff to say.  Because let's face it, we all know I am windy like that.  I was still windy when I was feeling all dark and moody and broody, but I just kept it to my own self.  I couldn't spew here.  I have so many angsty draft posts that will never see the light of day.  But writing stuff helped, even if it was only for getting it out of my cluttered head.

You know how Facebook is actually really more like "Fakebook?"  Like mostly people project their best selves because they want all of the people in their world to think that have it all together, all of the time.  Nobody posts about how their dog smells slightly like a skunk and their kid was exposed to lice and that they feel like a fatass.  I mean, nobody really posts those kind of things, right?  It's more like, "I went to the Farmer's Market!  I eat only organic! I bought sunflowers today! See the pretty sunflowers!  They are on my cute little farm table with the sun beam shining on them with perfection!  My life is great all of the time! Yay!"

But we all know that's not real life, right?  We all know that Facebook is like an alternate reality, right?

I'm an offender.  Mostly I keep shitty stuff to myself, because you know, I can manage my own stuff.   And I don't need anyone looking at me like, aw poor you. And also because who else really cares about the skunky dog and frantic delousing of a kid who actually has no sign of lice but I have to frantically delouse anyway because ugh.  Who wants a bug??  Not me!

Well so anyway, I'm not making any promises of tons of fabulous, regular posts, because lets face it.  We've all heard that shit before.  But I think I'll hop on here again, and try to write stuff.  Because why not?  Maybe it'll actually happen this time.

Wednesday, March 11, 2015

and THIS is why I can't maintain a blog

So it's 2:17 in the afternoon and I didn't take a shower or brush my teeth and there is a half of a cup of coffee on the table next to me, just all cold and sitting there.  I think that I forgot to eat breakfast and lunch.

I'm pretty sure I might have to pee but I'm currently mushed in that "semi-permanent couch indentation that occurs after sitting for a shit-ton of hours in the same spot on the couch" indentation.

I am in this position solely because I was thinking I should start to be a good blogger again, so I got on my computer at like 10 am-ish or something ridiculous like that and then I accidentally never got up.  Because Internet!  I mean, there's so much to do on here!  Sheesh, I almost forgot.

Then I was on pinterest looking at recipes and I found approximately 897 thousand things that I would like to make for lunch, so I pinned them all on my "THINGS I WOULD LIKE TO MAKE FOR LUNCH" board,  but of course I never actually made them.  I just gazed longingly at Avocado and Spicy Goat Cheese Tacos and Smoky Sweet Potato Burgers w/ Roasted Garlic Cream & Avocado (I really like avocados) and continuously moved on to the next fabulous food-thing to pin.  For four hours.

Then I moved on to things that I could make for dinner, except I can't make them because I didn't get my ass showered so I could go to the grocery store and buy ingredients for the things to make for dinner.  

So now I have just under 59 tabs open on my computer and I am so confused.  Do I shower?  Do I throw together a shitty lunch?  Brush my grimy teeth?  Maybe attempt to get to the store before I have to get the kids from school?  Eat a Twix???  I don't even know!!!

This is shameful guys.  I actually can't believe that I am confessing this behavior to all of you zero readers out there.

Tuesday, March 10, 2015

a strong upper lip, among other dental-ish things

Every time my husband goes to the dentist, he'll call me proudly on the way home and tell me all of the wonderful things that the dentist and/or hygienist said to him during his check up.

"Proudly" because they are all compliments.  Well, uncomfortably strange oral weirdisms in my opinion, but definitely compliments in his eyes.  

The last time he went to the dentist, the hygienist told him that he had a "strong upper lip," and also a "firm tongue."  These are things I am pretty sure I will hear about for the rest of my life.  Because those are very exciting things apparently.  Also, who says that?  Who says "Wow, you really have a strong upper lip?"  The hygienist may have been trying to put the moves on him with the firm tongue thing, because it could be construed as a euphemism.  I'm not at all concerned because she has very short boy hair and that's not his thing.  Also, he never has cavities.

About fifteen years ago, he was so excited because the hygienist said, and I quote, "Stains?  Zero!" regarding his teeth with gusto.  Gusto, I tell you.  He was so excited.  He loves that he has zero stains on his teeth so much that fifteen or so years later I am still reminded.  I am still reminded often of his stainless teeth.  Sometimes, when he writes a card to me he will write, "To: Stains, From: Zero" on the envelope.  Probably so I will know who the card is from, but in code.  Except now I am informing the whole www, so it isn't exactly a private code anymore. 

I think it's because he had baby bottle mouth when he was little.  You know those sad little yucky teeth that your baby will get if you let them drink a bottle of milk in bed that the pediatrician warns you of?  That's a real thing guys.  The sad yucky teeth is real!  And my husband had them!  Thank Cod he now has zero stains and zero cavities because I am certain that adult baby bottle mouth would have been a deal breaker.  Because I am a little shallow like that.

ANYway*, I went to the dentist yesterday and all went smoothly.  Going to the dentist is not my cup of tea.  Did I ever tell you that my regular dentist fired me twice?  One time I convinced him to take me back, but the second time he didn't.  Then I picked a cuter dentist in his office that I always kind of had a crush on instead.  Or should I say, he picked me.  Because one day I asked him a simple question about a tooth-thing I was experiencing during one of Brooke's appointments after the big and shameful second firing incident, and he made me hop in the chair and get my tooth looked at.  Because he is so nice and petite.

Then he said he would be my new dentist and I said "phew" to myself.

I really like my dentist.

*you know how sometimes people say "anyways" with an "s" at the end?  Like they make "anyway" plural?  That irks me and it should definitely irk you too.  Because it is dumb.  

Monday, March 2, 2015

actually kinda perfect

My weekend was so.utterly.unexciting.
I mean, it was great, if you’re into that sort of thing that includes situating yourself to the couch for so long that your body basically forms an identical indentation that’s semi-permanent, and ordering take-out Saturday night which not only was dinner, but then also became lunch and then uh, dinner again on Sunday.  Like the same food.  Just microwaved.  Not even warmed thoroughly in the oven.  Oh no.  I wasn’t even getting up long enough to preheat the oven and then throw the stuff in and blahblahblah.  No way José.  Apparently I’d rather have my unequally microwaved-heated leftovers (you know, so like the edges are so hot that you burn your mouth off and the middle is totally cold?) on a paper plate and then re-faceplant into the cushions.  Then noshing on bits of random cold pizza as mid-day appetizers peppered in there for good measure.  
It was that kind of weekend.
I wish I could be all “ohmygosh, it was so rainy and cozy all day Saturday and I just got so caught up in my awesome book that I read the entire thing while sitting in my big comfy chair in the dimquiet”… but no. It was nothing of the sort.  I wore the same comfy lounge pants and tank top and woke up at 10ish and caught up on so much junk on TV that my brain nearly exploded.  I didn’t even read the crap-ton of magazines I have to catch up on.
This weekend would have been the perfect time to do all of those things that I “never get around to,” such as fold a massive pile of laundry that for whatever reason just continues to grow (wtf, family), which is located smack dab in the middle of the craft room floor (classy. want to come over?), reorganize the crammed and annoying kitchen cabinets, clean out the crammed and annoying closets, clean the bathrooms, mop the floor, deconstruct the junk drawer(s) because they contain about six thousand miscellaneous stupid things that I "might use someday,” along with random change, keys that I don't recognize, melted lip gloss and four-year-old samples of sunscreen, or purge every room in the house because we (I) constantly mentally complain about the chaos. But no. We didn’t have time for that at all. We only had time for *couch*.
Now that I think about it, this weekend was actually kinda perfect.

Wednesday, January 14, 2015

what should i be?

I spend a lot of time trying to figure out what I want to be when I grow up, as a grown up.

I used to have good ideas, but now I feel like I'm too old.  I know I mentioned before that I am typically a quitter before failer, and I'm scared that if I tried to be something, I would suck or it wouldn't be what I expected and I would hate it or, I don't know... what if I fail??

I'm not sure why I have such a deep fear of failure.  Doesn't everyone?  I mean, nobody wants to fail, of course.  But like, plenty of people chance it, plenty of people fail, plenty of people mess up and like, it doesn't shatter their world.

I make lists of things that I am interested in.  Because I figure lists with columns always seem to produce results.  Pros/cons, cool/uncool, fun/lame, meaningful/meaningless, worthy/worthless, deal breakers/deal makers...  so many lists to be made.

I hope nobody ever sees my lists.

I think I have been able to languish in uncertainty because since Brooke came along, I haven't actually had to work.  Like, financially.  Which is awesome, of course, but it also leaves a person feeling sort of... lost.

I feel really lucky that my throwing a paycheck to the mix wouldn't make or break us, but also, it makes me feel kind of trapped and boxed in and like my throwing a paycheck in doesn't mean anything at all.  Like my stupid contribution is kind of worthless.  Ah, first world problem, right?

Who complains that they don't have to work?

I'm not complaining.  I guess I always feel like I want to do something that matters.  I know taking care of my family matters/mattered, but like, they don't really need me as much anymore.  I'm kind of  like a plant.  I'm here, I need water, I like the sunshine.  But does it really matter if I say or do anything?

I also feel like since I actually haven't had a job in nine years, nobody would want me anyway.  Who would hire someone with 9 years of like, zero work?

ANYway, I think I will go plan dinner.  Because I suppose that is fairly important.  I do have to feed everyone pretty much every day.

Friday, December 12, 2014

Hey, remember that time that I said I'm back in it to win it?

Do you?

Hopefully not, because apparently I lied.  Because I thought I was going to be back in it to win it but then I wasn't.  Back.  In it to win it, I mean.

In other words, I really only had a few more posts after those bold words before life got busier, and I got lazy and kind of forgot that I was re-committing to blogging.

But really, for real, I actually have been kind of busy!  I know, right?  I'm not sure if its just the time of year, or if like, I am just finding more stuff to do to keep me occupied.

I've been trying not to live for unattainable moments that aren't mine anyway.

I've been trying to get myself back in real life more, stepping away from this plastic www world.  I've been saying goodbye to ghosts that have wounded me.  I've been leaving things behind, letting things go, living in the moment.  I've been trying to "get" it.  I'm trying not to be a sad, moody brooder.  I've been smiling and stuff.

So yay for that, right?  I guess?

ANYway, I have an awesome Christmas tree in my family room right now and it is all twinkly and yummy smelling and it kind of feels like I am sitting in a deep and quiet forest.  I kind of love sitting in a deep and quiet forest.

Did you like how I changed the subject there?  I moved right along.

Because that's what I do these days.  I move right along.

Wanna come with me?

Tuesday, November 11, 2014

Hey, it's 11/11!

It's November!  Who knew?

I remember being younger and my mom would tell me that time seems to speed up when you're old and I'd be all like, uh huh, and roll my eyes.

I'd say the same thing when she'd tell me to appreciate my non-wrinkled skin and non-flabby bod.  Because like, who ages, right?

Apparently, she was right, but damn.

So, November... there sure seems to be a lot ahead to accomplish.  I'm not much of a pre-shopper.  Like, I know someone who will have all of her Christmas shopping done, and then wrapped in October.  That's so not me.  I mean, I'd love it if I were that organized, but the reality is - I'm not.  Usually by October I have some lists put together, because lists!  But that's about it.  My lists are organized!

I do need to have a sense of what I am doing by Thanksgiving, because I am probably going to be forced to be a Black Friday shopper.  

I used to really love Back Friday shopping.  The planning, the plotting of the route, the craziness, the chaos, the getting up so early and being all sluggish and driving in the dark with your fellow shoppers...  

But somewhere along the way, I decided that I hate it.  Or maybe not hate, but strongly dislike.  I look around and see cranky people, dragging tired babies through throngs of other cranky people, at ridiculous hours of the morning, prepared to throw down just to get their kid the latest and greatest whatever.  That doesn't scream Christmas cheer to me for some reason.  Merry Effing Christmas?

Ah, I'm sure I'll go.  My sister Ali can be a bully very forceful persuasive, and we usually go out together with the guys.  I admit, it always turns out to be fun.  My sister Jen has the right idea and doesn't meet us til late breakfast at some greasy diner, usually in the form of Denny's.  The eating with your people part is fun.  Because the eating part is always fun!

So there's that.

Wednesday, October 29, 2014

what to do here

I'm not sure how I am going to approach blogging again.  

I liked blogging for a while there.  Then it got stressful.  Then I got a mental block.  So there was a quitting, which truthfully isn't terribly uncommon for me.  I'm a quitter, sadly.  And then  there were a few restarts that never really became a thing again.

What made it stressful I think, was knowing that some people I actually knew in real life were reading.  I mean, I definitely like that there are readers out there, I think.  Just, when I actually knew some of the real live people, I started worrying, I started being concerned that maybe I should censor myself.

I hate censoring myself!  

But also, I don't want to look or sound stupid to anyone who actually knows me.  It's one of my top five worst things.  A lot of times, I just kind of wrote whatever was there and it worked because I didn't have to think about if I actually did look or sound stupid, or who I could potentially be offending or hurting or something.

I hate drama, but sometimes, if I read back, I have a few posts that might seem a little drama-y.  I hate whiners, but sometimes, if I read back, I have a few whine-y posts.  Like, in the real world I do my best to put that mask on every day, nice and straight, so nobody notices that I am actually a freak in sheep's clothing.  Or something.

Here, I was feeling like it was OK to be my own freaky-sheep self.

So anyway, the question becomes, do I really actually care what anyone thinks?  I guess yes.  And no.  Yes because I still don't want to say or do anything that could potentially embarrass or hurt my family, my kids.  But no because fuck people who want to judge me for just being my own freak self.

So that's where I'm at.  If I want to sound like a dumbass who doesn't know proper English like I did right there, I will!


Monday, October 27, 2014

What would it take?

What would it take? Write about a time when you were with someone that you are still angry with, and decide if they finally deserve to be forgiven.

Walking through the park, pushing the stroller, I see someone up in the distance and my stomach involuntarily knots.  The quick heat of anger forms, familiar.  Knowing that avoiding her was impossible, my mind starts racing with the old feelings of hurt, betrayal.

My head is up, looking forward.  Not shrinking like I want to, not shrinking like I always did.  She is casually sucking on a lollipop.  We stop in front of each other.  Because that's what you're supposed to do, right?  When you walk directly in the path of someone who was your very best friend for years.  When you walk directly in front of the person who once knew everything that there was to know about you.  When you walk directly in front of the person who ruined any chance for you to truly trust and have healthy friendships with girls.

She bends down in front of the stroller, looking at my child.  Looking through her.  And I want to walk away but I don't.  She stands up quickly, taking the lollipop out of her mouth in a way that seems perfect, practiced.  She says, too loudly, "What a beautiful creature!"  My muscles feel tight and I squeeze the handle of the stroller.

And I think to myself, "Don't you dare call my child a creature."  And I want so badly for those words to form and come out of my mouth, but they don't.

"Thanks."  I say.  Looking her in the eye.  I don't smile.

She knows I know.  We both know that I know exactly what she did.  This huge unspoken betrayal hangs thick in the air between us.  She smiles and flips her long, straight hair out of her face.  Like she always used to.

Uncharacteristically, she starts to fumble with her words.  This person, who took great pains to never show a lack of confidence, this person who owned every room she stepped into, this person who never fumbled her words, starts rambling.

"Good to see you."  I say, uncharacteristically interrupting.  Locking eyes.  My speckled green to her iced blue.  I still don't smile.  I won't, ever.

I push the stroller around her, looking forward.  As I move further away, the heat of anger dissipates, and my baby starts babbling.  The clouds fogging my brain begin to break and float away.

She doesn't deserve to be forgiven.  But picking at old wounds keeps them from healing.  I know though, that I will never forget.