This Shit Just Got Real

I'm doing something I'm unsure of, which really shouldn't be a surprise to me. After thinking a bit about it ("a bit" for me is usually about 5 minutes, this time maybe 30- it's that important) I decided to buy a .com for my blog. So it's really weird for me to say that people can now read my ramblings by going to lolaloop.com. So yeah, that's a thing now.


Do you know what you're doing, maam?

Nope. I don't.

I may try to make some changes now too, to make the site look, you know, better. Good even, if I can give it enough time. But seeing as I've been blogging for over a year now, I thought I'd try it out. I know it's only been a year but that's a long time for me to keep up with something. The only things I've done longer has been to stay married and breathe and stuff.

I don't know why buying a domain name freaks me out so much. Maybe because it makes this more serious. It's like I got married to a domain name and I'm having a panic attack like I did when I got married for reals. I wasn't panicking during the wedding, just the morning of. Because that makes it better. Because I say so.

Updated
I'm also super psyched that the first picture I put up of myself is this one. My panic attack gave me bad judgement. Well, too late, I'm leaving it. Deal with it future me.

Book Bloggery and Stuff

I have a book blog too... just thought I'd throw that out there.


Clicky here for my other blog

So I'm not ignoring this blog I just started blogging more over there. Plus I don't really have anything witty to say at the moment. That is all. Oh God, my wit might be broken. Hold on...

Q: How many hipsters does it take to change a lightbulb?
A: It's a really obscure number, you've probably never heard of it.

OK, that was a joke. Crap. I have to get my wit fixed.

On another note, the other day I ordered an awesome shirt that I'm really excited about.

 

A mix of Doctor Who and Star Wars?

Take my money right meow!

My Writing Skills Are Lacking

Some things I can write semi-well... like my thoughts. It is writing actual literature is a lot harder, though I have a hard enough time expressing my thoughts most of the time, so when I try to write something else (i.e. serious) I'm terrible at it. Like, Twilight vampire bad.

And by that I don't mean that my writing fell in love with a human teenage girl. I say Twilight vampire bad as in: sometimes glittery, unintentionally funny (not in a good way), mostly ridiculous and occasionally will try to suck the life out of your body.

I'll keep at it though. Who knows, I could probably self publish something and then post it online for free because it wouldn't be worth squat. Maybe something to donate to charity. Hell, I don't know. I just don't ever want to compare my writing with Twilight again.

You Say "Feminist" Like It's A Bad Thing

My husband told me the other day that I'm a feminist. My reaction?

"Yup."

Standing up for women's rights or having strong opinions isn't a bad thing and anyone who disagrees needs a lesson in empathy... and a swift kick. Feminists worked hard to get women the right to vote, own property, etc. Women in the United States didn't have the right to vote until 1920! That's 144 years since the Declaration of Independance was signed. And now, considering the fact that a lot of men (even some women) in government want to reduce our reproductive rights... ridiculous.

I'm thankful to anyone, man or woman, who stands up for my rights and I'm thankful to those women  in the past who got me the rights I have today. Thanks, Ladies!

Rules Upon Death

I was watching the video of a Youtuber that I really like today and she had a video about what she wanted at her funeral for whenever it is that she dies.

She makes a good point about wanting her funeral to be a celebration of life rather than having everyone be sad about her death. I agree with that and because I won't be making a vlog (I write so no one can see me- I'm shy) so I'm writing it down. *By writing this I'm not planning on going anywhere anytime soon, but you never know what is going to happen to you. Just being prepared.*

1. Bouncy houses. There had better be at least one. They are fun and if you want to come to my funeral you had better comply... unless you are physically unable obviously. I'm not going to make someone really old or in a wheelchair bounce around in there. They could break something! Come on guys, I'm not heartless.

2. No flowers. They're pretty but they would fade and die and would be a sad reminder of the brief time we have. I would say balloons but I want to avoid pollution. I don't need to help kill the earth because I'm dead. So... maybe plant some flowers or trees instead? Obviously not on my grave though. I don't need to be squashed by tree roots, thanks. OK, and maybe balloons too.

3. No black or grey clothes. It looks too boring and sad. Happy colors, people!

4. Good food. Don't serve boring sandwiches. I love food so nothing boring or plain! Corn dogs are the exception. Corn dogs are delicious.

5. Dessert. Cake & ice cream- I love them.

6. No sad music. Seriously.

7. Funny stories must be told. They don't even have to involve me. I just want people to laugh. Make fun of me if you want, I won't care. If no one can come up with something funny I'll force everyone to listen to comedy tracks. Deal with it.

8. Bouncy houses. They're important, so don't forget.

9. Are rides too much to ask for? Maybe a petting zoo? Oh and balloon animals! This funeral is getting pricey.

My funeral is starting to sound more like a carnival. Can we have a funeral at a carnival? Plan A- carnival funeral, Plan B- regular happy funeral with bouncy houses.

Updated:
I forgot about the carnies; the only downside to a carnival funeral. Well, carnies and poop from the petting zoo. I wouldn't invite them (carnies... animals are obviously allowed) but they would have to be there to run the rides... so they're OK I guess. But no clowns... OK, clowns too as long as they can make balloon animals.

Happy Anniversary, Douchebag

Be married is awesome. And by "awesome" I mean it's as awesome as being stabbed in the face repeatedly by a monkey holding a toothpick. I mean, the monkey is stabbing me... I'm not being stabbed with a monkey. That would be both horrifying and adorable.

All I wanted to do was something, I didn't care if it was walking around in a nearby town, I just wanted to get out of the house. Anniversaries are once a year and I like to make them different. So what does he do as we're supposed to leave to go to a movie neither of us really wanted to see? He plays xbox. He claims all of his cloths were in the dryer (fact: he had pants in the bedroom that he decided just weren't good enough to wear- who has "emergency only" pants?) and it would make us late for the movie. After throwing pants at him (the not good enough ones) I got ticked and drove away. Because, you know, why not? THEN he says I'm wasting gas.

So we argue over texting and I come home to find him still on his xbox (I only went to the gas station so the wasting gas argument would be moot to a sane person). So we argue some more and I'm wrong about everything... again... and now he just took off to only God knows where.

Guys, please learn from this horrible example

He's probably going to read this someday so I'll put this next part on here for him:

You sir, are a dumbass. That's right, you read it correctly. I put up with so much from you and I hold my tongue 90% of the time to keep peace in the house, but someday you will do something that will make me snap and not allow me to stay quiet. You will evoke (invoke? I'm terrible at this) the wrath of Kahn... or, you know... Me.
Happy Anniversary, Asshole.

*Note: Sorry to anyone who reads this. I'm ranting and some of my anger spilled into my beloved internet. I'm sorry Interwebs, I still love you!

Update: Plotting my revenge. He complained I didn't get him anything (why would I? I still haven't gotten a birthday present from LAST. YEAR!) so he'll get his present (insert evil laugh here). I'll be sure to post an update when I get it, though it'll have to wait a little over a week until I get paid again. But it's coming...
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Updated Part II: Admittedly, I was a bit angry when I wrote this. I still occasionally agree with the first paragraph and I can't say that I disagree with anything I wrote. Truth is a bitch sometimes. And the truth is that marriage is hard. Duh, right? We have good and bad days. This, obviously, was a bad day. But I stay for the good days- of which there are many more than the bad. That's what lets you know that it's love- when you're willing to stay when the days are bad. And there will be bad days... but I cherish the good.