I am not managing my time well these days. I've taken a lot on my plate without any plan on how I can manage it all.
Also I'm feeling pretty homesick and for no good reason. I just miss my friends and family and California in general. I just want to see a palm tree and hear ten different Spanish dialects. I still love Portland, but California is still a little bit home.
And on top of all that? I'm struggling to be social. I know you all picture the bubbly, outgoing former cheerleader you see day after day, but truth be told, I have to work at that. My true nature is pretty anti-social and when I get stressed, I retreat deeper into myself. So please forgive me if I ignore you. I'm just overwhelmed.
I hate daylight savings time. Hate. Despise. With the fire of my soul.
I have a sensitive body and I don't react well to time change in the spring or fall.
Why must we change anyway? As a friend of a friend put it, it's like cutting the end off a blanket, sewing it to the other end, and saying you have a longer blanket.
It makes no sense!
So it makes me cranky. And annoyed. And headachey. Blech. Double blech.
And you know what tops that crankiness off and takes me into murderous? How everyone assumes we're all toddlers who can't tell time or understand the concept of changing a clock.
"Don't forget to change your clocks!"
"Just making sure you know the time changed!"
First of all, there is this magic thing called TECHNOLOGY and all our cell phones and computers update automatically. It's MAGIC!
Not only that, this isn't my first time change. I've been around the clock, as it were. I've done it twice a year since I owned my first clock. Sure, in the early years my dad had to help, but I got the hang of it pretty fast. Because it's not that hard!
So shut the hell up about it and stop acting like a smug bastard as if you're in on some knowledge
the rest of the stupid fucking population is ignorant of and shut the
The Fella doesn't want to read my blog.
He says he doesn't want to learn about me this way, which I think is sweet. But I also want him to read my writing occasionally. It's what I do. It's my work and my art. Which I'm eager to share. He tells me about his work, so I don't think it's unreasonable to ask him to read my writing.
I mean, am I right? So what would you do? Ask him to read occasionally? Send him links you want him to read? What do you think?
So I'm a huge dork. And as you know, I don't watch an actual TV. I get all my televised crack online, so I don't experience commercials like the rest of y'all do. BUT, I do get commercials on Hulu occasionally and, I have to say, I am utterly in love with the Frontier Airlines commercials.
I giggle like a little girl on laughing gas every time. They crack me up! Such comedic genius is rarely captured in such short spots (unless you count the Twitter). I mean, mattress commericals anyone?
Anyway, so I tweeted the other day about what I dork I was for getting such a kick out of these commercials and this dude who writes them tweets back that I'm not a dork and then I died of happiness.
And asked for his autograph. Just kidding. I didn't do that.
I've met celebs. When I worked in Hollywood, I met Michael Jackson, put bras on Gwen Stefani, and watched Andy Dick change his clothes on my desk. And I couldn't give a rat's nasty ass. But this was like meeting a real celeb. Someone who writes famous things that make thousands laugh? That's my kind of celebrity.
Like I said, dork.
So I'm sad to say that my Etsy shop is going under. I haven't sold a piece in over a month and am about to close it up because I can't afford to keep it. I started it to raise money for Jeté's cancer debt, but it's now costing me much more than I can handle. I even have a sale going, but it doesn't seem to be moving any stock.
So if you want a piece, please order one until I let the shop go. I'll keep the free shipping sale through the end of March and then close up.
15 hours ago