The Sound of Silence

"Hello darkness my old friend...

I've come to talk with you again..."

I wish I could play that song on my blog, but alas, those day have come to an end.  I've read over and over how people hate it when your blog starts with the auto-play on music.  I once had another blogger visit A Day in the Wife and proceed to send me an e-mail outlining everything that was wrong with my blog:

• hate the music, and so do your followers
• don't like word verification on comments
• too hard to find my e-mail address
• I was too "small time"

...and then she ended it by saying, "You're killing me, Smalls".  All I did to open myself up to this was leave a comment on her blog that one of her posts was funny.  Her blog has over 600 followers, so I think she thought she was doing me a big favor, but I thought to myself, "That's IT, I am auto-playing music FOREVER!"  Because you know why I write this blog?  It's not to win an award.  It's not to get more followers than anyone else.  It's not to impress people (CLEARLY!!!)  It's because I like to write, and I think everyday life is funny.  And nothing I say is terribly original to me, it's only sometimes funny because this is stuff that happens to everyone in some way, shape or form.  I also happen to like my followers.  You're funny people.

But do you notice how this Smalls Talk happened about four months ago, and it's still on my mind?  At least I'm not bitter, right!?

Anyhoo...the other day, Stacey Ballis posted something on Twitter that was funny, and since I am now stalking her, I was going to respond with a Vanilla Ice comment.  Since I like to be accurate when I quote Vanilla Ice, I went to playlist.com and searched for the song "Ice Ice Baby".   When I hit Play, my computer went "All right, Stop!" and promptly downloaded a virus and literally stopped.  This is the fourth time I've picked up a virus on my laptop, which only started happening when I started getting music for the blog from playlist, and so, I bid playlist.com a fair adieu.  It's sad, really, because I love music and it's been such a fun tongue-in-cheek thing to put a matching song with a blog post, but Saturday was the day the music died.  My laptop is still not working, so I have to use Current Husband's computer at night.

The other person affected by my dying laptop is Youngest Daughter.  She is a big gaming junkie, and loves to play Club Penguin, Nick Jr., Disney, Webkinz, and Class Brain, all of whom can be suspected of sending viruses, or at least loads of spyware, to my computer.  Every day, YD asks if she can play my computer, and every day I have to tell her no.  She gets very sad and then walks away to read Captain Underpants books, which I suppose is the lesser of two evils.

Last night, YD and I made a Sam's Club run.  School has started, so I needed bread, lunchmeat, chips, fruit, carrots, juice boxes, cereal, waffles, after school snacks, and caffeine in various forms.  We spent about $250, a full cart night, and on the way home we were listening to the radio when the ad came on for Double My Speed Dot Com.  The people were giving their testimonials about how they went to Double My Speed Dot Com and their computers are now miraculously like new - the cynic in me says that all of their passwords and account numbers have been downloaded as well.  Pretty soon, a small voice pipes up from the carseat in the back:

"Oh great, NOW you tell us, after we've wasted all of this money on food!"

There she is, the Child of 2010, who would rather play Club Penguin than eat.  Super.  I've made my child into an Internet junkie.  "And the people bowed and prayed...to the neon God they made...."  Do you think I'll get Mother of the Year?  There it is again...The Sound of Silence.

Happy Hump Day!  (Ooh, I want to play "Humpty Dance" now...do the Humpty Hump...)

How I Got My Electronic Ankle Bracelet

As I write this, I am enjoying my first glass of wine since my "Jencident" with Jen Lancaster last Friday.  While it is delicious, I can tell my body is having a certain amount of trepidation as I lift the glass to my lips.  No worries, little liver.  This ain't no Borders.

So today I am working on a freelance project, and I glance up from from my desk/dining room table and look out the window at a beautiful day outside.  I feel like the dog in the Far Side cartoon, watching two other dogs attack the mailman, with a caption that reads something like "Fido wanted to go play with the other dogs, but he had to stay inside and practice his violin."  I notice that the grass is about 6 inches tall again, and think "I should mow that".  This gives you some insight into how far I am willing to go to procrastinate the work I am supposed to do.

Then I started thinking about how I mowed the yard the last time, and how many times I did it LAST summer, and I'm thinking "has feminism given Current Husband a pass on mowing?"  Then I started thinking about traditional roles of men and women, and if there is such a thing as a "Traditional" gender job anymore, i.e. husband mows and takes out garbage, wife does everything else, and then I started thinking about Nutty Bars and coffee.  I believe the medical community refers to this as "Attention Deficit Disorder".

Mmmm.  Nutty Bars.
So in order to procrastinate my work even further, I log onto Facebook and post the following on my ADITW Fan page:  Just curious...who does the mowing at your houses? Are there still traditional "Man" jobs and "Woman" jobs? Does this sound like a dangerous question, like "Do I look fat pushing this mower?"
  
(Before I get into the rest of this story, I'd like to point out that I got 22 comments on this single little post, more than ANY OTHER POST in the history of ADITW.  You Likers get really riled up about laundry and lawns.  Next week I'm going to post about dirty dishes or toilet paper and see if I can top 22 comments.)

So I make my little post, and no shit, within 30 seconds I get an e-mail from CH:  "What's THAT all about?" and I get really indignant because CH is following me on Facebook and Twitter and checks the blog regularly and honestly, it's starting to creep me out.  I feel like I have a CH-Cam on me.  If I cut myself shaving he is going to text me and say, "You should shave in the other direction.  Put some aloe on that."  He is the spousal version of Big Brother, the HoverSpouse.  I call him at work.

ME:  "What the hell?  Can I say ANYTHING without you butting in?"
CH:  "Well are you saying I don't mow the lawn?"
ME:  "No, I'm asking people about traditional chore roles."
CH:  "I think you're saying I don't mow."
ME:  "That is beside the point.  Why do you feel like you need to Creep in on all of my stuff?"
CH:  "Someone needs to keep an eye on you.  You were illegally posting for advice on getting out of jury duty, and need I remind you of the Jen Lancaster incident just 72 hours ago?"
ME:  "I am an adult.  Butt out, Creeper."

And then we make an appointment for a nooner because school will be out in three weeks and that will be the end of that.  I grab a Nutty Bar and refresh my coffee and mutter to myself about being a responsible adult and I can post whatever I want.  I am SO in control.  Sheesh.  But as long as I've taken a break from work I wasn't doing, I think I will go over and check The Bloggess today, because I am an equal opportunity stalker.  Of course, she is hilarious, as usual.  Today, she created an ad about BINGO, because Bingo.com asked her to create and post an ad for them on her site.  Here is what she came up with:

I scan the comments, because some of the commenters are really funny too, and someone posts something like "Get 1,000,000 People To Beg SNL to Let The Bloggess Host" and I thought, "Hey, something like that would be funny".

And that, my friends, is where things went a little south.  It's like I was stalking Jen again, except this time there was actual trademark infringement.  I blame the Nutty Bars.

My next thought was "We have a Poet Laureate, The Bloggess should be our Blogger Laureate!"  Next thing I knew, I was on Facebook, CREATING THE PAGE:

A Dozen People Who Want The Bloggess to Be Our National Blogger Laureate

And then I'm like, "Hey, what good is a Facebook Fan Page without a photo?" and so I go to her site and STEAL her image and post it on the page, and I list her as a Government Official, and then Facebook sends me a message that says YOU'VE CREATED A FAN PAGE! and I think, "HA!  That's SO funny!" and I go to her site and post a comment that says, "Make Jenny the National Blogger Laureate - click here!" and I post the link and I check the page 30 MINUTES LATER and there are 24 Likers, and then the sugar wears off and I think, "WHAT.  HAVE.  I.  DONE." 

I start sweating a little bit, and I send Jenny The Bloggess this e-mail (Actual text):

"Hi Jenny - Okay, so I read the funny blog about Bingo, and then I see someone comments about starting a Facebook page and then I think HEY that would be funny, she should be our National Blogger Laureate, and I go to FB  thinking "I'll just see if it's easy to do" and then POW, there is a page created, and I take your picture and then I'm like HOLY SHIT WHAT JUST HAPPENED!?! and I think I may have accidentally taken some Vicodin or drain cleaner and now I think I have violated you, which of course everyone dreams about, but not in this way.  So,
A)  I'm sorry
B)  Can I keep it?  I'll feed it and take care of it and make sure it doesn't get rabies
C)  You really do rule the Internet.  But not with an iron fist, and that's why we all like you so much.
D)  I will happily take it down if it is annoying and/or scary

I am now sweating.  I think I'll eat some crackers and lie down.
Julie"

You may be saying to yourself, "Self, how does she have The Bloggess's e-mail address?" and I will tell you that as I worker I may be a slacker, but as a stalker I am very thorough. 

But get THIS - she responded:

"Ha!  I love it.  It's awesome."

Swoon.  I love her.  And I am really thrilled she is not suing my ass.  So CH comes home from work and puts his things down and pecks me on the cheek and goes to his laptop.

CH:  "How was your day?"
ME:  "Um, good."
CH:  "What."
ME:  "What do you mean, 'What'?"
CH:  "I mean what did you do?  I can tell you did something."
ME:  "Well, I sort of started a FB page to make The Bloggess the National Blogger Laureate."
CH:  "No."
ME:  "Yeah.  And I kind of stole images from her site to do it."
CH:  "Oh shit."
ME:  "And it has 147 Likers.  But I e-mailed her and she said it's okay."
CH:  (head in hands)  "This?  This is why I monitor you."

So now I'm on Double Secret Probation, and there is a suspicious-looking stuffed bear on the buffet staring at me with a huge belly button.  But that bear can't keep me off the Internet, sucka!  Be sure to become a Liker on the Facebook page, because really, how hard can it be to get Obama's e-mail address?  Not very.