Tag Archive: search terms


I am finally on the mend from being sick but still don’t feel normal.  I’m still a hot damn mess. My daily drug cocktail is outrageous and I am still amazed that I can take so much medication and still feel this awful. My body hurts. I have gone through at least three boxes of Kleenex this week. I have a really sexy cough that sounds like my lungs are rattling.  My voice is all snorkly. I sniffle and breathe out of my mouth. It’s disgusting.

I will take this time to tell you that I am well aware that my posts of late have been lacking, even prior to the sickness I have contracted.

To say the very least I have been extremely uninspired. I have come to dread having to sit down to write something.  I don’t know what has changed or what is different that has made me feel this way.

Probably four weeks ago, I had my first very serious thought of ending this.  I keep thinking I should just give up, quit. And then sometimes I reel it in and think perhaps I’d just take a break, a little hiatus, if you will. But I always talk myself out of it and convince myself that next week, next week will suck less and I’ll churn out something funny or worth reading.  No such luck.

So, let me just put it out there: I am so sorry.  I am sorry that coming here sucks now. You, my dear reader, are wonderful, and every time you visit my blogy-blog, I am so grateful.  Truly.  Even when you just pop by on accident or when you click on over and read without comment- I appreciate it. Even when you search something weird, like “dogs pooping on couch” or “grandma is obsessed with me” and end up here wondering what kind of fuckery is this?!, I’m glad you came by at all. If my words matter to you and/or if you look forward to getting a glimpse at how I view the world, I am sorry I have been really sucking it up lately.

I just wanted to acknowledge to you that I am well aware that it hasn’t been good lately.

Or, if you’re thinking it’s never been good and why do I even bother, then, well, uhmmmm… I guess this is just confirmation. So, good job! Go me, for reinforcing your original thought.

Here’s my promise: I will start putting forth real effort.  I will try to feel excited about blogging again. I will plan ahead. I will recapture my child-like wonder.  I will tell you about my love of Smokey the Bear. I will tell you things I’m excited about.  I’ll reinvest myself in you. I will reinvest in accomplishing a personal goal.  I will follow-through. Even when I don’t feel like it.

I feel good about this.  Thanks for listening!

Check back! Hold me accountable! Harass me when you hate something I do or say! Tell me what you want to read about! Let me know if something makes you laugh- or if you feel the same way!

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“wet my pants” “ten years old”

What?

That was a search term that led someone to my blog.

I scanned through the rolodex in my head of topics I’ve written about on my blog. Wetting my pants is not something I remember writing about.

This makes me wonder why “wet my pants” has led someone to my blog.

That does remind me, though, of a couple unfortunate moments of incontinence.

Like that time me and my cousin, who is eleven years older than I am, decided it would be a great idea to run around my childhood neighborhood like ninnys and deface my neighbors’ Christmas decorations. We made all the reindeer on our street mount each other. We were a block away from my house and we had been laughing really, really hard. I went to run back towards home after messing around with another set of reindeer. Then I felt like I couldn’t hold it. So I hid behind a tree and told Angie to stop making me laugh. But then I really couldn’t hold it anymore. My kegels were doing all they could and it didn’t measure up to how badly I had to pee.

I was a freshman in college.

The most recent, and probably most embarrassing, moment was when Rob, Leah, Megan and I traveled to Chicago for Leah’s birthday my senior year of college.

That was the same weekend trip that I forgot to pack pants.

So our first full day in Chicago, we went shopping and I bought some jeans from H&M. We had a glorious day.

That night, we all got dressed and ready to go and Megan realized she lost her ID. Probably on our trip to buy alcohol. But it was lost nonetheless. So she didn’t even get to go out with us to celebrate Le Le’s  birthday.

Rob, Leah and I did, though, and we had a good time.

Rob had a good time until he had to rally Leah and I into the cab for the ride home by himself. She and I were kind of out of control and when we were close to our stopping point, Rob called Megan in for back-up.

Megan met us at the corner and I was a gigglebox.

While Rob was trying to get Leah to stop digging in the trashcan on the corner of the road and shouting at nothing in particular with a Cyndi Lauper accent, Megan was trying to talk me out of the snow bank I felt into. But once again, laughter got the best of me. And Megan kept telling me that the mysterious hickey on my neck was not a bruise, like I had been calling it (because, let’s get real, how old are we?! Sure, drunken PDA in a bar is tacky but we aren’t in middle school anymore. Hickeys are not acceptable- ever). We were laughing so hard, and every time I tried to explain that a snowball had hit my neck in the same spots a few times causing me to bruise, Megan replied, “That’s not a bruise, homie” and it made me laugh really, really hard.

And that’s when I wet my brand new pants in a snow bank on the street in Chicago.

There ya go, search engines and random internet searchers. You go right ahead and search for “wet my pants” and I’ll be happy to share those stories with you.