Tag Archives: Twitter

The Last FOUR Pictures I Tweeted


Blogger Mavens. I don’t know how they do it. It seems I’m always either ignoring Twitter … or Facebook … or Instagram … or my blog commenters … or posting anything new at all. There are only so many hours in the day. How do these people find time to eat, interact with their children and keep themselves clean? I guess I just need to accept the fact that I will always be slacking off somewhere.

And now it’s summer. My kids are home much more (honestly – yay!).  Plus I’m trying to keep up with this daily numbered thing (honestly – WTF was I thinking?). So my social media presence is suffering. And all I can say is THANK GOD FOR THE CAT! I had to laugh when I saw that every one of the latest pictures I tweeted was of his furry, orange face. Of course, in his defense, he’s a natural-born felinedian. (Feline comedian. I’m trying it out to see if it catches on.)

Wanna see his latest portfolio? (awkward pause) Well, I’m sharing it with you anyway.

1. Seeking companionship.

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2. Exercising his creativity.

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3. In a moment of self-loathing.

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4. Masquerading as as a possum (opossum? nasty, disease-ridden marsupial?) and playing dead on my porch. That is one weirdly talented cat. (wink)

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June is Blog Post by Numbers Month. Wanna play with Mel and me? Just write a “listy-type” post with a number in the title (ex. FOUR Reasons I Love Mayonnaise, SIX Things You Can Do With A Paper Clip). Then link back to us and tweet us about it so we can include you on June 30th in our final list: (Number-Yet-To-Be-Determined) Great Bloggers Who Played the Blog Post by Numbers Game!

Vote for me @ Top Mommy Blogs - Mom Blog Directory

 

 

 

 

 

The Toilet Story (“inspired” by Hurricane Katrina)


I wrote this story for the New Orleans Times Picayune in the spring of 2006. I had intended to share it here, on the 7th anniversary of Hurricane Katrina, as a sign of our progress and fortitude. But I fear I may not have electricity tomorrow so I’m posting it now … one day shy of the seven-year mark. I never imagined that I’d be sharing it while hunkering down in the midst of yet another storm. Back the hell off, Isaac.

My family is from New Orleans so we were one of the many, many, many families deeply affected by the storm. Months after the waters receded and the house was fully gutted of our personal belongings as well as ceilings, walls and floors, I visited it (we were staying about 90 miles away at the time) and, taken with the pin drop silence of my neighborhood and mostly just completely lost in the moment, I found myself needing an answer. A ridiculous one, mind you. But, considering the fact that this deadly monster passed through my city yet it was a manmade issue that ultimately destroyed her, isn’t this whole situation still completely absurd?

Flushing Out My Fears (written in February 2006)

I visited my house while in New Orleans over the weekend.  I was by myself … a rarity … and I had to know if the toilet still flushed.  My house is completely empty, except for my grandmother’s rotting piano which will probably have to be removed with an ax.  And I, of course, won’t be anywhere nearby to see or hear it.  The shell of my home has no walls, no floors and no ceilings in most rooms and therefore no fixtures, shelves, cabinets, etc.  But my toilet is still hooked up in the middle of everything.  You could use it and see the earth below you all the while.  So, for the first time, I decided to travel through my gutted house.  I gathered my courage and started on the long adventure from my front door to what was our bathroom to determine the answer to the age-old question of whether a toilet makes a sound if nobody is there to hear it.

I actually have a very good sense of balance.  I’m not all that coordinated and have no real confidence in my athletic abilities, but I can usually balance as well or better than the next guy.  Still, as I worked my way across each floor board, moving sideways like a crab with my feet running parallel over the boards, I couldn’t help wondering why I had to know about my toilet and, for that matter, hear the flush.  I had nothing to hang onto and knew that I could easily fall between the slats of the floor thereby cutting myself on a series of rusty nails on the way down.  And there I would be lodged, bleeding to death, thankful I had at least gotten a tetanus shot, but not heard or found in my ghost town of a neighborhood on a Monday afternoon for God knows how long.

I was thrilled when I made it to the “dining room.”  At least there, I had wall framing to hang onto.  Of course, I didn’t actually want to touch anything, but you make choices.  I carefully navigated that room, passing over the fresh two-by-fours that made up the old doorway that Dave had filled in himself when we moved into the house.  I couldn’t believe how different the wood looked.  I entered my “bedroom” through that same wall and noticed that the ceiling fan pull that my mother had bought for me years ago from some plantation house somewhere was still dangling from the ceiling, and I thought about trying to get it.  I didn’t.  At 5 feet 4 inches tall and with nowhere to put a step stool, I would never reach it.  I said goodbye and moved on to the hallway.

I had to step over a big hole in the floor that used to house a floor furnace.  We’d had it filled in, beautifully I might add, soon after we moved into the house when Dean and Vivien were just tiny little guys.  I still remember the former owner of the house (a floor guy) telling me it couldn’t be done.  But I remember that day, as I looked at the enormous grasshopper that had gotten through the hole and was in the house with us, that I knew I would be filling it in.

Finally, I entered my “bathroom.”  And I realized that as I had traveled from room to room in my house, I was back to my split screen reality again.  Damn.  I thought I had gotten past that.  Everywhere I looked in the house, I simultaneously saw things I remembered and what was really there now.  And as I was taking one of my saddest strolls down memory lane, I made it to the toilet.  Eureka!  I felt like I had reached the top of Everest.  And reaching down to flush the commode, I noticed all of the toilet paper brought by the workmen who gutted my house could be seen sitting on the ground … I mean, the earth … through the boards of my floor.  Had they actually used the toilet and reached down five feet through the hole for the paper?  Well, at least now I knew why the toilet remained the only thing installed in the house.

As I pushed the lever and began to see the water swirling around in the bowl (filthy above the water line, but seemingly clean as a whistle below), I panicked and thought, “Wait, is this thing still fully connected?”  I wondered if water was going to start shooting out at me and I wouldn’t be able to get away because you can’t run across rotten, old floor boards.  Suddenly the lodged-on-a-rusty-nail-through-the-floor scenario didn’t look so bad.  But I lucked out.  The toilet flushed … normally … just like yours and mine (well, just like the one at my mother-in-law’s house where we’re now living).

And of course, I got back out of the house pretty quickly and easily.  The trip back never seems as long or as arduous as the one there.  I really hope that proves true of this whole, heart-wrenching journey.

Everyone stay safe as we ride out Hurricane Isaac. I don’t expect to have power much longer but plan to continue sending updates and messages via Twitter throughout the storm. Please look for me at @OldDogNewTits. I could use the company.

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Happy 1st Anniversary, ODNT!


Yes, that’s right. Just one year ago today, I wrote a blog post

… then sweated buckets about it, sent proofs to half a dozen people, second guessed myself, ate a pound of cheese and drank a bottle of wine contemplating it, considered scrapping the whole thing, third guessed myself, cried quietly, berated myself in front of the mirror …

and hit publish.

It’s been a very interesting first year. CLICK ON THE IMAGE BELOW to see just a few of the highlights in my scrapbook.

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If you’re interested in reading some of the stories in this scrapbook, I’ve included the links for you at the end of this post. Because I understand lazy. And I know I would NEVER bother to look them up on my own. And I’m assuming that, if you read this blog, you’re probably lazy like me. So I did your heavy lifting for you today.

Thanks to all of you for riding shotgun with me the past year. Here’s to year number two!

The Posts that Inspired ‘Things You Read About on ODNT (2011-12)’

  1. Man Boobs Quiz  & Answers *
  2. Hoarder on Wheels
  3. Naked Mole Rats Introduction & Tweeting Spree
  4. Norma Stitz *
  5. Bitchy Barbies Introduction, Playdate & Acquisition
  6. Red Hair Dye Phobias
  7. Drug Hallucinations
  8. Tumor Look-a-like Contest *
  9. The AMC Letters: One, Two, Three & Four
  10. Bag Balm
  11. Just Say No to Saving the Earth
  12. Paging Mr. Baldwin: The Appeal & The Response
  13. Hunger Games Prequel
  14. My Junior Novel (maybe)
  15. How does one say Goodbye to a Toilet?
  16. A Hairy Day at Disney World
  17. A Cow named Michele
  18. Creating a New Identity for my Class Reunion
  19. When Johnny Depp came to my BBQ
  20. Spray Cheese Delivered to your Door
  21. Things You Learn While Drinking Wine
  22. A Bloody Good Idea for Next Summer
  23. The Hamster’s Going to Need a Lot of Therapy

* These posts have been deleted for undisclosed reasons. And, for the record,  it is NOT because I’ve been served with restraining orders from John Travolta, Norma Stitz and Homer Simpson.

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An Update on My First Hate Mail Here at ODNT


Remember My First Hate Mail? If you aren’t familiar with the first post, please read it first … then come back here. I’ll wait …. (insert crappy elevator music)

* * * * * * * * * *

What? Oh, great. You’re back. Sorry, you caught me with a mouthful of Cheetos, staring sleepily at the wall, just getting out of the shower. Anyway, now that you’re up to speed on the original post, we have a little update on our first hate mail.

He DUMPED Me!

When I first wrote about my critic, I used a funky iPhone app to blacken out his name (out of respect?) from the screen captures of our Twitter conversation. And, as you may recall, several of my friends came to my rescue and had a little fun with him on Twitter resulting in each and every one of them being blocked from his account. But not me. ??? It sort of blew my mind … since I tweeted repeatedly about the whole incident.

Well, sir … the Gloves. Are. Off! (Gloves = fake black sharpie lines offering his anonymity) I mean, all I did yesterday was reply to one of his tweets and I earned myself an unfollow.

His tweet and my (batting eyelashes) innocent reply …

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He even replied back. Am I crazy or does it seem like everything’s still okay?

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Then he dumped me!

My initial plan was to dump him right back … until I saw that he’d actually blocked me, which means I couldn’t follow him now even if I WANTED to. (Pout.)

Of course, my biggest concern now is WHERE AM I GOING TO GET ALL OF MY DENTAL COUPONS?!!?

Which reminds me … I promised you guys savings when you visit ODNT. So, I’m sharing a link here for NOT ONE BUT A WHOLE MESS OF COUPONS that could just have easily come from my EX follower, Mr. Snape.

Here at ODNT, we aim to keep you feeling AND looking good. But hurry! I think that Supercuts coupon expires tomorrow!

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read to be read at yeahwrite.me

My First Hate Mail Here at ODNT


Okay, so maybe “HATE” mail is a bit of an exaggeration. But “YOUR BLOG DISPLEASES ME” mail just didn’t sound as punchy.

It all started out innocently enough with me sitting at the hair salon waiting for the red to settle into my dark roots. I was playing on Twitter when I saw an opportunity for self-promotion, a must in the writer’s world, at which I suck. And, sort of because I am a nice person … but mostly because my brother guilted me into it … I downloaded a crappy, clumsy free app on my phone that would enable me to blacken out my critic’s identity. (What-EV-er! It’s all still on Twitter anyway if you are so inclined.)

Here’s how the conversation went down.

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And a little time passed while he went to peruse the blog.

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I wonder if he at least liked the font and type size I was using.

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Short of calling me fat, I’m not really sure what’s left. Still … I’m new to this whole blogging game so I decided to poke around his Twitter account to see if I could learn anything from someone who’s clearly been around the block a few times and knows what he’s talking about. He’s a dentist … or a “dental enthusiast” of some sort … so everything centers on that. I’m not even sure why he’s following me except that he probably accidentally typed ‘tits’ when he meant to type ‘teeth’ in the search field. It happens all the time. (Cough.)

Here’s what he tweeted not one, not two, but three times yesterday.

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Dave says he’s just some poor dude obviously plagued with chronic halitosis. But I realized he’s so much more. The man is a genius and he’s just trying to mentor me. ME! Of all the blogging newbies out there, he picked ME!

Here at ODNT I don’t give anything back to you guys. You come here … hoping to save a dime … maybe find a bargain or two … and what do I do? I bore you with stories about two old brothers growing pot in their bathtub.

Shame. On. Me.

I want to make this right. So, I’m asking now that you please accept my most sincere apologies … and this link to numerous Meow Mix cat food coupons!

Oh, and you can totally expect to get more of these babies in the future so keep checking in. Why should I waste time writing “quality” content when I can just share coupons?!!? Hell, if you keep reading this blog, you might actually be able to retire early.


Special thanks go out to my Tweeps who came to my rescue with supportive rebuttals to the dentist. Some of you even managed to get yourselves blocked from his account. If that’s not friendship (sniff) …


Dying for more? Wondering if there’s a Part Two to this story? Well, yeah. There is. Click here for the continuing saga of my non-stalker.

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read to be read at yeahwrite.me

My New BFF is Alec Baldwin


He answered, you guys!

A mere eight hours after my last post (A Letter to my Dear Friend, Alec Baldwin) … plus a week’s worth of tweets from myself and others (you people kick ass, by the way) … he finally answered.

Here’s the tweet that finally drew him in:

MeJust sitting at my girl’s dance class. Two hours of my book, my laptop & my Twitter account. Whatcha doing?

And his pithy reply:

Alec – What else? Working.

Well, no. I never said he sent me an epistle but since I was willing to accept “OMG! F off!” I considered this tweet a victory.

Need proof?

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Anyway, all is right with the world again. Alec and I will probably be lunching at a popular hot spot in town this weekend if you’re looking for me. I’ll tell him you said hi.

Also, a special thanks to my Twitter friends @Guapowitz, @JuliesMusings, @SmokieMeats, @stnkyferit, @dp90amato and @wmccannon for helping out with the tweets as well as to the surprisingly large number of others who sent me ideas for their content.

After all … it takes a village to stalk a celebrity.

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A Letter to My Dear Friend, Alec Baldwin


Dear Alec,

I cannot explain why I chose YOU to lovingly harass on the Twitter platform. Perhaps it’s because Twitter is where you communicate so bluntly with the public. Perhaps it’s because I fall asleep to you and your fellow cast members on 30 Rock almost every night. Or perhaps it’s because Dick Schweddy and his annual Christmas delicacies are a holiday institution in my world.

In any event, as you can see from the tweet list below, I’ve made quite an effort to connect with you in the last week, asking only for a few syllables in return. I may seem like a crazy person but I assure you that I am merely a persistent and stubborn pain in the ass. It’s a problem that you could remedy by merely answering one of our mundane little questions. I’ve got lots of people waiting to hear from you … and maybe even get a question of their own answered.

So please … put down the political sandwich for just a moment … and say hello. It would mean a lot and, heck, I’ll even unfollow you afterwards if you want … as my work here will be done.

Anxiously awaiting your reply and your answer to the age-old question “What do you like on your pizza?”

ODNT

* * * * * * * * * *

A friendly pursuit of Alec Baldwin in tweets

(For the record, I’m the least frightening stalker I know.)

* * * * * * * * * * 

@alecbaldwin I won’t feed my FEVER until you reply. Or is it my cold? Damn it. I can never remember.

Starting to think @alecbaldwin doesn’t like me. Here’s a picture of a heart-shaped steak. Maybe it’ll help.

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@alecbaldwin No one believes me. This is like the Davy Jones/Brady Bunch episode. You just HAVE to sing at my, I mean, reply here.

@alecbaldwin What about a freaky cat pic? Will that get me a reply?

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Y’all, I don’t think @alecbaldwin can hear me. Think he’s scared of me? Come on, man. I don’t boil rabbits!

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@alecbaldwin What if I say I’m a Mama for Obama? Anything?

@alecbaldwin Picture of a SPAM cake?

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@alecbaldwin The cat is destroyed over not hearing back from you.

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@alecbaldwin Sigh.

@alecbaldwin A picture of high-end Oreos on the 100th anniversary of this prestigious cookie? Do YOU like Oreos, Alec?

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@alecbaldwin How about a cat climbing a ladder? Isn’t that funny, Alec? It’s a cat. And he’s on a ladder!!!

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I think @alecbaldwin’s Twitter is broken. It’s the only explanation really. Right?

@alecbaldwin Let’s try some questions to make this replying thing a little easier, shall we? Ginger or Mary Ann?

@alecbaldwin Stuffing or potatoes?

Do you think I remind @alecbaldwin of someone from his past that he despises? Or is it me personally he finds so offensive?

If you want to see @alecbaldwin reply to me just once, please tweet him. Tell him ODNT sent you. And ask him … Coke or Pepsi?

@alecbaldwin You win. For today. But you’d make my night if you’d just answer one question … young Elvis or old?

@alecbaldwin Getting my hair done today. Should I go with highlights or lowlights? Ooh, or both?

@alecbaldwin Just tell me – Team Edward or Team Jacob?

Hey, you guys. What do you think @alecbaldwin is doing right now? I’ll bet he’s planning his pithy reply to me for later.

@alecbaldwin Who’s your favorite Golden Girl?

@alecbaldwin What do you think, Alec? Fish tacos or shrimp fajitas? Wanna go splitsies?

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@alecbaldwin Maybe the problem is that you feel you don’t know me well enough to reply. Let’s fix that, shall we? First, I’m a Gemini.

@alecbaldwin I was born and raised in New Orleans.

@alecbaldwin I didn’t learn to ride a bike ’til I was 8. See how I’m defiling myself for you!

@alecbaldwin Who’s your favorite Baldwin brother?

@alecbaldwin I just want to know what you like on your bagel.

@alecbaldwin And I forgot – more about me. To quell your fears so you might reply. I play the piano and the guitar.

@alecbaldwin If you could go back in time to play a character on the Brady Bunch, who would you be?

His lawyer, therapist & mom all say “Ignore her. She’ll get tired and move on.” @alecbaldwin I just want to know – Donny or Marie?

@alecbaldwin Please pass the salt.

@alecbaldwin And I’m fine with “Shut Up!” “Security!” or “Double your prescription!” I’ve got it coming and am nothing if not fair.

Hey @alecbaldwin. I’m approaching a stoplight & think it’s about to turn yellow. Do I brake or gun it?

@alecbaldwin See what I did there? I’m only kidding. I would not tweet and drive. That would be crazy. #sane

@alecbaldwin I’m not scary! Things I own – #Kids #GirlScoutCookies #EasyBakeOven Things I DON’T own – #Chucky #BoilingRabbit #HockeyMask

Good morning @alecbaldwin. May I ask how you take your coffee? #KillingYouWithKindness

@alecbaldwin What color do you think best suits you?

@alecbaldwin Who was your first grade teacher?

@alecbaldwin Oh, and my dad says hi.

@alecbaldwin You’re killing me, man. Check out this 5-in-1 delicacy I found today. Do YOU like cheese?

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@alecbaldwin Do you think it’s a mistake that I always put the low-grade gas in my car?

@alecbaldwin Damn it, man, really? How do you like your steak prepared?

@alecbaldwin Just had someone named Dan Weiss follow me. It’s not Don Geiss, but it’s close. Maybe it’s a sign. (Hi, Dan!)

@alecbaldwin Getting sleepy. Trying to decide between white pajamas with grey dots or blue ones with moose on them. Ideas?

@alecbaldwin Don’t forget to reset your clocks this weekend! There. You’re welcome. See how nice I can be.

Headed to St. Pat’s parade to catch cabbage, potatoes, Irish Spring & all things useful to an Irishman. @alecbaldwin Need anything?

@alecbaldwin Had fun at St. Pat’s parade. Caught you a cabbage. Kids toted it home. You like cabbage, right?

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@alecbaldwin I won a little writing contest today. It involved Jack Nicholson. Wanna read? It’s only 33 words. http://wp.me/p1LoLK-1bU

@alecbaldwin I thought about using your ‘Malice’ speech but the exclamation wasn’t as pronounced. Still great stuff. http://youtu.be/svhRi_6dUfs

@alecbaldwin And speaking of the ‘Malice’ speech, perhaps we can use that for today’s question. Do you have a God complex?

@alecbaldwin I may get blown away any second by a tornado in my area so it’s a good time to reply. What would YOU do in a tornado?

Morning @alecbladwin. I’m making eggs. How do you like yours?

* * * * * * * * * *

And this is where we left off. For now. I hope eventually to be able to post at least one little comment from our good friend, Alec. In the meantime, maybe you can help. I have two ideas:

(1) If you have a Twitter account, please feel free to tweet @alecbaldwin yourself and say hi. Feel free to ask him anything you want. He LOVES that. And tell him ODNT sent you. Ooh, we should create our own hashtag for this project. How about #ODNTSentMe?

(2) If you don’t have a Twitter account or if (like me) you’re lazy and would rather not take on the tweeting, please share some ideas below in the comments of what else we need to know about Alec. There must be just so many things!

Thanks, friends.

* * * * * * * * * *

Dying for more? Wondering if there’s a Part Two to this story?

Well, yes. There is. Click HERE for the continuing saga of my non-relationship with Mr. Alec Baldwin.

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You can’t spell ‘Don’t’ without O-D-N-T


Today’s Weight … 122.0

Yes, it’s up. Nearly two pounds. The sad thing is that, had I only stopped chowing down on everything long enough to write a damned post lately, I could’ve logged my recent 119.7 weigh-in. But noooo! I have to report TODAY’S weight.  (eyes rolling)

Don’t get it? Check this post.


It came to my attention recently that simply rearranging the ‘call letters’ of this blog creates another entirely new word – Don’t. The word is usually restrictive, negative, even demanding … but I thought it could open the door to all kinds of hilarious hijinks, shenanigans and other dumbassery. So, here we go … the first-ever edition of ‘You Can’t Spell Don’t without O-D-N-T.


I don’t

… drink coffee. Ever. I mean, like maybe I’ll have it twice a year. When all the other cool kids are doing it. And, honestly, I feel kind of left out. Most of my friends suck it down by the barrel every day. Seems like a pretty acceptable vice. A benign enough addiction. Right?

Well, not in my case.

Last week, I exercised with a friend and went to have coffee with her afterwards. And, in a complete and utter shit-girls-say moment, I found myself turning to her when we walked up the counter and saying,“Um, what’s my coffee order, Vanessa?”  After all, I was there to taste her diet discovery.  I don’t know the first thing about ordering a pretentious, lengthy-named, fancy-ass coffee beverage.

And so she ordered for me. I heard mention about doubling up on something. I just nodded my head.  “Whatever you’re having,” I said like an idiot.  I didn’t realize we were already talking about a one-and-a-half-shot situation. Which meant doubling it translated to tripling the shot. Of espresso.

By the time it hit me, I was parking the car at the grocery store. Still completely unaware of what I had done to myself. And, as I felt my face heat up and my heart begin to race (“inexplicably”), I wondered if I was having a heart attack. Then, it dawned on me. And so, naturally, I began tweeting …

Dear Barista, You screwed up my coffee order. I said DECAF! Now, come help me down from this tree. I’m a freakin’ hummingbird.

Holy crap. Just learned my drink “accidentally” had THREE shots of espresso. Funny joke, friends. I could outrun the roadrunner.

I am so “Less Than Zero” right now.

At grocery. Cheese is talking. But not to me. Stupid cheese. Feel like I’m running but might be moving in slow motion. #accidentallydrugged

I think I feel my hair growing.

It’s bad when you can play doubles tennis by yourself, right? Should I call the hospital?

Don’t cut me off in traffic, dude. Today is the day I’ll “accidentally” beat you to death with a hairbrush.

This is a grocery bag. Not a damned parachute. Help!

Why is everyone speaking like they’re in super slo-mo?

I’m melting … melting …

CRASH!

Friends don’t let friends overcaffeinate their friends-who-don’t-drink-coffee’s drinks. #WorstPSAEver

It was a c-RA-zy afternoon. I felt energized, anxious and sick … all at the same time. The crash was hard, but necessary. And it was good to be myself again. I just wish I’d be home when it happened so I could’ve finally gotten my bathroom tiled. I could’ve knocked that shit out in fifteen minutes.

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Busy day of Mardi Gras parades, Superbowl parties & #footballforwomen


Today’s Weight … 121.3

“Losing weight during Mardi Gras season is going to be harder than I thought,” said me, with a mouth full of doughnut.

Don’t get it? Check this post.

I just dropped off my family and an entire truckload of crap at the float for their parade.  My daughter’s on the bottom level with a bunch of friends.  My son’s up top with one friend and a bunch of crazy-looking people I don’t know.  Among them is a tattooed lady in Harley Davidson assless (is that hyphenated?) chaps.  And she’s 72. (Shudder.)  Dave will be running up and down the ladder checking on both of the kids throughout the parade.  And I’ll be running behind the float trying to break my boy’s two-story fall with my body.

Well, that was my personal Facebook post today anyway.  (It’s a joke. And, yes, I know it was hiLARious!)

I will not really be chasing behind the float.  I will be at the end of the parade waiting with friends and family to see my little people on their inaugural float ride (read: rite of passage in these parts) and hoping to get their attention long enough for at least one blurry photograph. (Sniff.)

And we will be dashing straight from the parade (and its after-party) festivities to a Superbowl party.  Those of you who have been following along know I’m not a huge sports fan.  Of course, it would have been entirely different if the Saints were playing today. Sigh.

So, if you’re on Twitter and you’re sitting around today confused … or bored … or just seeking a laugh between plays, look for us on #footballforwomen.  It’s sort of like #shitgirlssay, football-style. And don’t be afraid to put in your (Kick it through the thing!! Kick it through the thing!! ) two cents.

Go … uh … team!

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Hello … AMC? Is anybody home? Please pick up.


I just realized it will be a week tomorrow since I first contacted AMC about the fact that … thanks to a deplorably-placed commercial spot that aired during The Polar Express the day after Christmas … my girl now knows all about Trojan’s latest personal product for women.  (Remember, everyone, if she asks … it’s a BACK MASSAGER!)  Unfortunately for AMC, they have disappointed me thus far by ignoring my email. So today, I sent the following second effort (see below) to the same customer service email address as well as an additional one I found for their adverting department.  And I further contacted them via Twitter to request information about where this type of correspondence should be directed.  Please feel free to copy and paste my letter into your own email and send it to AMC.  (If I hear back from them via my Twitter inquiry, I will share that email address asap.) And here’s hoping my first email, my second email or any of your emails will get us a response.

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I sent the email below (click here to view) to AMC on December 31.  I have received no response and can only assume that it wasn’t routed correctly within your organization.  In fairness, I wanted to inform you that I write a blog about a variety of topics and this letter was the subject of my post on 12/31.  So, I’m not only waiting to hear from you but I’m also waiting to post your reply as there are others besides myself who are curious to learn how this little error could have happened.

Thanks for your time. I look forward to hearing from you soon.
Michele … blah, blah, blah

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