My "old" diaper bag broke. It's fixable, but I don't want to fix it because I want a new diaper bag. I tried using my ol' Pepto-pink backpack (because it's just easier to have a backpack when you're carrying a mobile baby and a hundred other things with the two arms that you are born with-- man, that was an oversight, eh?) but it's not baby-friendly. I seriously had to empty everything from the backpack to find ONE diaper this morning.
So I need a new one. A better one. A convenient one. A cheap one. A good one. A quality one. A cute one. A classy one. And I need it now.
The hunt begins!
Monday, June 30, 2008
Sunday, June 29, 2008
Thursday, June 19, 2008
I'm so smart.
I just had a great idea.
From now on, everyone who is named in this blog is going to be "Debbie." This will eliminate (some of) the assumptions that I am writing about YOU (except for the really paranoid lot of you). It will also eliminate some other questions, such as "Who does she know whose name starts with K? Katie? Could it be Katie? Nah. Kelly? Kelli? Kathy? Kristie? Could she be complaining about herself? Hmmmm, wouldn't doubt it. She's crazy."
So everyone is Debbie. What an honor!
From now on, everyone who is named in this blog is going to be "Debbie." This will eliminate (some of) the assumptions that I am writing about YOU (except for the really paranoid lot of you). It will also eliminate some other questions, such as "Who does she know whose name starts with K? Katie? Could it be Katie? Nah. Kelly? Kelli? Kathy? Kristie? Could she be complaining about herself? Hmmmm, wouldn't doubt it. She's crazy."
So everyone is Debbie. What an honor!
Welcome to Girld. Now, get out!
I'm in a pissy mood because my vacation is over. It was an amazing time, as it always is, but I am now depressed and angry to be back here, so far away from my family. SO I feel like I want to bitch a little. And this is where I come to bitch. Didn't you know that? What the hell did you think was going on? OHHHH. Maybe you didn't think.
My brother shared an email with me last week. It was one of those "fuck you" emails from a friend of his. She was mad that he didn't do something, or mad that he did... I don't know. Neither does he. His message to me in the beginning of the forwarded message was something like "What is wrong with everyone?" I had no answer.
Actually, I did... but my answer was a reprimand to him. You see, K was one of my brother's very close friends. They met in law school and have been friends since. I have met her a few times and I think (thought) she is fabulous-- great sense of humor, a real firecracker, and so sweet. Anyway, I made some sort of "a true word is often said in jest" remark a long time ago (when I was still a legal resident of the Girl World) about the fact that he was so close with a girl. I warned him that the rules in Girl Word (or Girld, as we have affectionately named it) were different than he may be used to. Regular rules don't always apply! Logic and reason don't always matter! Yelling, secrets, passive-aggressiveness, snarkiness, whispering, unreasonable-uhhh-ness, abound! And now, having visited Girld so often, and having spent so much time there, he was forced to be initiated. And I warned him that this day might come.
I ran for office of Girld in eighth grade when my friend P totally dropped me and my friends to join another clique. I abdicated my position for a long time, only running again in the late 1990s when one of my good ol' friends decided to suck. I held this position on and off, unfortunately, until 2004, through another sucking couple of friends. At that point, I formally resigned and relocated to this wonderful place called Earth where, theoretically, real people live. But alas, in early 2008, I was deported from Earth and forced to spend a little time in semi-solitary confinement on Girld through what has been lovingly tagged the "Mama Drama."
Fortunately, the Mama Drama ended for me in March, but like any battle worth its weight, there are residual effects. It's alright; I was prepared for this (having survived the Girltom Bomb before). I'm still here on Girld, but I'm being held against my will. I keep trying to leave, but the new Girld authorities seem intent upon upping their citizenship numbers by using trademark Girld methods-- not unlike those employed in Lost and Sona-- to keep me and many others imprisoned on the island. They try violence (my goodness... such hostility!), intimidation (laughable, but you get an A for effort), pushing their sleeves up and taking a battle stance (some people are just so tough!), making "I know this will get back to her if I tell enough people" comments, making "this had better not get back to her but I trust you so I know you would never sell me out no matter what, right?" comments, making double entendre statements, writing passive-aggressive emails, postings, comments, away messages, status updates... and of course, making alliances. Safety in numbers!
And Girldlings are sneaky! They're everywhere! Most of my experience is with Yankee Girldlings, but don't be fooled... southern Girldlings play dirty too... maybe even dirtier. You know, like "shoot you when your back is turned" dirty. "I smile whilst I poison you, friend" dirty. Meh, whatever. An attack is an attack.
Now HOLD ON. Sigh. I can just see some of you now... some of you Girldlings... getting all pissed off thinking I am writing all about you (have you read the PARANOIA post? HMMMM?) when BAM! I drop a name! A real, actual NAME. Not an initial, but a NAME. I say the name DEBBIE. She's a Yankee Girldling. And she pissed me off. She even pissed me off directly (this is strange, as Girldlings rarely make direct hits), and she sort of resurfaced when this K incident reared its ugly head. And although I have built up quite a tolerance of this poison, it annoyed me anyway.
Debbie's not going to read this (we haven't spoken in years). I don't even care if she does or not... my catharsis won't come by outing her. I did, however, want to state her name so that I can dispel any suspicion that I am writing about anyone in particular (aside from K and Debbie). Writing my cathartic posts and then having them come around and bite me in the ass because I discover that specific people think I am writing specific things about them, pissing them off, and now I have to get pissed off at all the egocentric people in the world who seem to always think they are worthy of all of my thoughts and... well, it's annoying and simply creates a vicious cycle that is the antithesis of the point of this blog. What did I just say?
Girldling warfare has become my iocane powder. And I am almost fully immune (inconceivable!). I might get an upset stomach or a mighty headache on occasion, but that's as bad as it gets for me lately. I just sigh, roll my eyes, give a little hand gesture, and move on. Immediately. Not two months later. Growth!!
Ahhhh. Freedom. So GET OUT, brother! Get out of Girld. I know people. I can help you. It might be tricky, but I've escaped in the past, almost unscathed. I can do it again. I can help you.
My brother shared an email with me last week. It was one of those "fuck you" emails from a friend of his. She was mad that he didn't do something, or mad that he did... I don't know. Neither does he. His message to me in the beginning of the forwarded message was something like "What is wrong with everyone?" I had no answer.
Actually, I did... but my answer was a reprimand to him. You see, K was one of my brother's very close friends. They met in law school and have been friends since. I have met her a few times and I think (thought) she is fabulous-- great sense of humor, a real firecracker, and so sweet. Anyway, I made some sort of "a true word is often said in jest" remark a long time ago (when I was still a legal resident of the Girl World) about the fact that he was so close with a girl. I warned him that the rules in Girl Word (or Girld, as we have affectionately named it) were different than he may be used to. Regular rules don't always apply! Logic and reason don't always matter! Yelling, secrets, passive-aggressiveness, snarkiness, whispering, unreasonable-uhhh-ness, abound! And now, having visited Girld so often, and having spent so much time there, he was forced to be initiated. And I warned him that this day might come.
I ran for office of Girld in eighth grade when my friend P totally dropped me and my friends to join another clique. I abdicated my position for a long time, only running again in the late 1990s when one of my good ol' friends decided to suck. I held this position on and off, unfortunately, until 2004, through another sucking couple of friends. At that point, I formally resigned and relocated to this wonderful place called Earth where, theoretically, real people live. But alas, in early 2008, I was deported from Earth and forced to spend a little time in semi-solitary confinement on Girld through what has been lovingly tagged the "Mama Drama."
Fortunately, the Mama Drama ended for me in March, but like any battle worth its weight, there are residual effects. It's alright; I was prepared for this (having survived the Girltom Bomb before). I'm still here on Girld, but I'm being held against my will. I keep trying to leave, but the new Girld authorities seem intent upon upping their citizenship numbers by using trademark Girld methods-- not unlike those employed in Lost and Sona-- to keep me and many others imprisoned on the island. They try violence (my goodness... such hostility!), intimidation (laughable, but you get an A for effort), pushing their sleeves up and taking a battle stance (some people are just so tough!), making "I know this will get back to her if I tell enough people" comments, making "this had better not get back to her but I trust you so I know you would never sell me out no matter what, right?" comments, making double entendre statements, writing passive-aggressive emails, postings, comments, away messages, status updates... and of course, making alliances. Safety in numbers!
And Girldlings are sneaky! They're everywhere! Most of my experience is with Yankee Girldlings, but don't be fooled... southern Girldlings play dirty too... maybe even dirtier. You know, like "shoot you when your back is turned" dirty. "I smile whilst I poison you, friend" dirty. Meh, whatever. An attack is an attack.
Now HOLD ON. Sigh. I can just see some of you now... some of you Girldlings... getting all pissed off thinking I am writing all about you (have you read the PARANOIA post? HMMMM?) when BAM! I drop a name! A real, actual NAME. Not an initial, but a NAME. I say the name DEBBIE. She's a Yankee Girldling. And she pissed me off. She even pissed me off directly (this is strange, as Girldlings rarely make direct hits), and she sort of resurfaced when this K incident reared its ugly head. And although I have built up quite a tolerance of this poison, it annoyed me anyway.
Debbie's not going to read this (we haven't spoken in years). I don't even care if she does or not... my catharsis won't come by outing her. I did, however, want to state her name so that I can dispel any suspicion that I am writing about anyone in particular (aside from K and Debbie). Writing my cathartic posts and then having them come around and bite me in the ass because I discover that specific people think I am writing specific things about them, pissing them off, and now I have to get pissed off at all the egocentric people in the world who seem to always think they are worthy of all of my thoughts and... well, it's annoying and simply creates a vicious cycle that is the antithesis of the point of this blog. What did I just say?
Girldling warfare has become my iocane powder. And I am almost fully immune (inconceivable!). I might get an upset stomach or a mighty headache on occasion, but that's as bad as it gets for me lately. I just sigh, roll my eyes, give a little hand gesture, and move on. Immediately. Not two months later. Growth!!
Ahhhh. Freedom. So GET OUT, brother! Get out of Girld. I know people. I can help you. It might be tricky, but I've escaped in the past, almost unscathed. I can do it again. I can help you.
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