I'm starting a new thing. Once a week I'll be posting about something I'm thankful for. It will most likely be about something ridiculous, but that's OK!
I feel like it's something I need right now... also, it gives me something to post about. It also works for a Monday post because I've got nothing. Seriously. It's like there are moths flying around in the empty space where my brain should be.
So, the first thing I'm thankful for is...
No, really... THANK YOU
It's delicious and combines chocolate and peanut butter and tastes like a small piece of heaven or heaven-like substance. PLUS you can get it in "To Go" form. MUCH easier to dip my graham crackers into and that's important! Especially when I'm at work... I can't look professional with my hand stuck in a peanut butter jar.
I hit a deer this morning... and by "hit" I don't mean punched.
My car hates deer too
I hurt my wrist and I'm a little sore, but other than that... I just want to reanimate the deer so I can kill it again. Is that so much to ask? But I'll just deal with it because it's not worth creating a zombie deer that might spread the disease and cause the apocalypse. Patient Zero: Bambi. Nope, definately not worth it.
Proof
The deer paid for the car with its life. Was it worth it you suicidal deer? I was going to put up a picture of my injury but it's gross looking. So... you're welcome. I'm doing you a favor by holding myself back. Wait a minute! Does this mean I get cake? Surviving a deer catastrophe should at least earn me some cake. I mean, I could have died. I've got an injury and the only prescription is more cake... and pain pills.
I hope it's deer family finds it and dies of a broken heart
And by "tools" I'm not making a sexual reference. Or am I?
No, I'm not. Stop being gross.
I decided that I needed some tools around the house (other than my husband- bazinga!) because sometimes I need something which my husband has conveniently hidden away. Probably because I'm accident prone and it's dangerous. He wants me to be safe because he loves me or something. Or because he doesn't want me touching his stuff. I must have a dirty mind today because the sexual references keep popping up. I swear I'm not doing this on purpose. Penis.
Aaaaaany weiner, I found a girly tool kit so my husband wouldn't steal it.
I think he'd look cute carrying
this around!
I was excited to get it because 1) no touchy and 2) they're pink! Plus it comes with a hammer, screwdriver, level and a couple of other things. But when I got to the tape measure I got a little confused... who is this for? Look at it, it's tiny!
What is this, a tape measure for ants? Zoolander reference anyone?
I don't know how you can do anything with a tape measure that small. I might be able to measure a dollhouse. Or a shoe. Luckily I bought a big girl tape measure before so I'm slightly prepared. So now I'm starting to do crafty things that I saw on Pinterest because that's what I do... start projects and usually never finish them. But if I ever finish anything... I'm buying cake. Because it's a good excuse for cake. Don't judge me.
Or I guess I should say, she's following me for cat treats. She's turned into a junkie. I'm starting to get worried.
She's always watching
I came home from the store to find her watching me out the window. Cat's are creepy.
I blame my husband for the new craziness. He decided we didn't spoil the cat enough. Good job dear. Now she's a junkie just looking for her next fix. Next thing I know she'll be pawning my jewelery for a line of catnip. I'll have to start locking up the liquor and pills. She'll bring home some scruffy boyfriend named Jackknife who I won't be able to get rid of until she hops on the back of a tiny motorcycle and drives away. Heartbroken... I'm going to have an intervention. I think there's still time to help her before she goes too far.
Proof she's addicted
Sorry my voice is in the video. Not for any particular reason,
Umm... what? Thanks for creeping me out, CNN. And Florida? What's going on there?
I feel bad for whoever spent money on that storage unit hoping to find something good it in. Although, they may have found something good if they were hoping for body parts. If they were, they got lucky. Because who expects to find body parts in a storage unit? Besides the guy who owned it, obviously. Clean that shit out, dude. This would make for a good episode of CSI or something.
The weird thing is the guy that owned the storage unit used to do autopsies at a funeral home. Did people not notice limbs were missing or was he just really good at hiding it? Unless they were going to be cremated, in which case no one would notice anyway. Who would look at the ashes and say "I thought there would be more?" Nobody, that's who.
Either way the guy is creepy. All I know is, when I die I'd better not have parts taken off (or out) of me that I had when I died. I don't care if I'm dead, you can't cut off my arm or I will haunt you. I'll hide your keys and short sheet your bed and stuff. Don't mess with me... I'd be a scary ghost.
I’m not as Internet savvy (internavvy? Yup, I’m gonna call it that from now on) as I thought I was. Just yesterday I finally figured out how to put social networking icons on here. Do you see them? They’re on the upper right corner of my page.... I'll wait while you look. Seriously. I keep coming back to look at them and they’re not even the super cool kind. They’re just… regular. I did put a different one on my book blog, though. So, you know, there’s some progress anyway.
I used to think I had some internavvyness (I’m a word inventing genius!) but now I’m starting to doubt it. For work and my blog I try to keep up with what’s popular and test out different things (mainly social networks), but I feel out of touch at times. Is this how my parents feel? I remember getting frustrated with my dad because every time he tried to dial in (yes, I grew up with dial-up Internet and yes, it sucked) he thought the computer was broken. My sister and I used to have to coach him through every single time. This is how it usually went:
Dad: What is going on with this thing? Which one of you broke it?
Me: It’s not broken, Dad you have to connect it to dial-up first.
Dad: How do I do that?
Me: Click that icon (points)… same as every other time.
*Dad clicks once* You have to double click...
Dad: *Double clicks and dial-up sound begins* *Sighs* I hate this noise!
Me: I know, Dad. Everyone hates that noise.
Of course, this is a man that still can’t check his voicemail on his cell phone. I love you, Dad!
The "soothing" sounds of dial-up Internet
for those of us who remember it fondly (and by "fondly" I mean not at all)
I guess what I'm saying is, I can't let myself get out of touch. Especially with the Internet, the cyber-land that I love. I refuse to become that old lady that doesn't understand technology*.
*Note: I probably am going to become that old lady that doesn't understand technology
