So. Hi! I am dedicated to posting today. I will post today. What the hell am I supposed to post today? Those of you who know me in real-life (and some of you who know me in semi-real-life) are aware that the shit? It be going down. All sorts of shit going down. There is some news and then there is some NEWS and then there is WORK and there is LIFE and there is STRESS STRESS STRESS. And then there is me, writing repetitively worded sentences that make no sense because none of this shit going down is suitable for our Internet broadcast. I have never, ever wanted a completely anonymous blog/journal SO BADLY than right now. There. That's all I can tell you. So what the hell am I supposed to post today? Man. I wish I wasn't too snotty for memes. Or that I trusted you lunatics enough to invite guest-blogging. Or that I could think of any of those other lazy-ass things bloggers do when they have nothing to write about. Audioblog? Cat photos? Advice Smackdowns? I know! A list! A list of things that aren't connected and require no real context or narrative arc. THINGS... Read more →

The worst hiatus ever continues! One Saturday morning, many, many Saturday mornings ago, a little girl was eating her Cheerios and watching her cartoons. It was her birthday, but no one was awake yet because no one else cared about watching animated Pound Puppies solve mysteries at 8 a.m. on a weekend. But then, without warning, a bright pink box appeared in front of the little girl. It was a Barbie, and it was the most beautiful Barbie in the entire motherfucking world. It was Peaches 'n Cream Barbie, who was as pretty as a peach blossom and who came with a GLAMOROUS CHANGE-AROUND STOLE that you could style all sorts of interesting ways, including as a very slutty dress if you used it by itself. There was also a little Vanna White wheel with stole styles on one side and hot date destinations on the other (i.e. dinner, movie, whorehouse) to save you from having to use your imagination. The little girl's big sister had bought Peaches 'n Cream her own self, and I swear to God, there was never a better-loved Barbie in all the land. For about four hours. After carefully arranging Peaches 'n Cream on the... Read more →

I'm still too busy to post. But I'm not too busy to spend much of the day correspondin' with my bitches. And...bitching with them. About everything, because the entire world SUCKS for us and wah wah wah we hate everything. Anyway, I'm really tired of looking at that short post with the stupidly long title, so I'm doing the laziest thing ever and posting a bunch of goddamn emails, which are only vaguely funny but mostly not, but y'all should just be happy that I'm not flooding YOUR inbox with this garbage. (Except for the NotifyList email about this garbage. Sorry about that. Luckily you probably will never, ever receive it because NotifyList hates me.) AMY & ZOOT ARE LOSING THEIR SHIT: A BALLET IN THREE ACTS (Location, Zoot's site, in a follow-up post regarding her recent tragedy that has not interfered with her ability to do good hair, where Amy left the following un-helpful comment regarding some possible coping strategies.) AMY COMMENTS: You could also come to my house where we could weep bitter bitchy tears together and throw things. Or watch movies and get manicures. Either one. ZOOT RESPONDS: Well - two nights ago? Amidst profanity and tears?... Read more →

EDIT! ORIAL! ASSIST! ANT! BITCH! ES! A lovely and talented and desperately-needed candidate accepted our offer this morning. I would weep for joy but I'm all cried out. Of course, it's too late for her to be any help with my current googamungous to-do list, but it's light at the end of the tunnel and blaaaaah. Still, she better not suck, and she better be all CHOP CHOP with the learning curve. Am pre-emptively bitter. (Okay, apparently I am NOT all cried out, as I was just reviewing my schedule with another coworker and very nearly started to weep and shake with the sheer OVERWHELMINGNESS of it all.) I now return you to your regularly scheduled hiatus. Read more →

Hey y'all, So listen. The work thing. Is priority. (So is teaching myself the art of the compound non-fragment sentence.) I've put this off for as long as I can but I simply must take a (short, temporary, wee, please come back) break from updating. I'm super-extra-beyond stressed right now, and while I'm usually stubborn as hell about how writing here is my essential relaxation technique and all, that just hasn't been true lately. Our heat is only sort-of working, we have two monstrous holes in our bedroom wall, Ceiba is keeping me up all night during remedial potty training, I'm working 10-hour days on 20 minutes of sleep, my dad is having another health crisis, I'm still not pregnant and I've realized that the main character in my book is a selfish, hateful little brat. (The main character is me.) As a result, I'm kind of going insane from sheer exhaustion. I get a mean comment and I cry. I honest-to-God CRY over some dipshit who found me via a Google search for "ashlee simpson large sexy boobs" and decided to say something cruel for the hell of it. I have 389 unread emails. And this morning I got... Read more →

SPECIAL THURSDAY SLACKER EDITION Blah blah blah witty introduction to the concept here plus life updates (HINT: BUSY AND COLD AND SOME HEATING FIXER GUY LEFT A SCARY FLANNEL SHIRT IN MY CLOSET YESTERDAY AND ALSO I GAVE CEIBA A BATH AT 3:30 A.M. LAST NIGHT AND I ADVISE YOU NOT TO ASK ABOUT IT.) Anyway, there is no time for any of that today! No time at all! Go directly to the advice! Do not pass go! Do not listen to a SINGLE HYSTERICAL WORD that I am typing today! Dearest Amalah, I have fine, stick straight, doesn't hold a curl hair. I am currently growing out my bangs. Growing out your bangs when you have fine straight hair, quite honestly sucks. I can't master the side swept bangs, I'm thinking because I had really thick baby bangs. I look awful with longish thick bangs, because of the chubby cheeks. I just have the two clumps on either side looking sucky. Unless, I use a bobby pin to hold them back, but that just looks flat and weird. So, in the meantime I have been toying (and by toying I mean the appt. is Jan 29) with getting a... Read more →

OH MY GOD Y'ALL. You know how I like to whine about how busy I am at work? And that I have SO MUCH to do and wah wah wah and feel sorry for me because I'm going die? And you know how usually I'm full of shit? Well, I'm not this time. I mean it. I am going to die. The cause of death will be stress and many tiny, tiny paper cuts. And possibly frostbite from the whole no-heat-in-the-condo bullshit, which made me very late for work this morning (don't ask), which seriously cut into my valuable freak-out time. I have so much to do before February 1st that I've hit that deer-in-the-headlights point of panic where all I can do is stare stupidly at my to-do list and move stacks of paper around my desk, as if I'm magically going to find 17 spare special reports and an assistant just lying around under the clutter. (Also, confidential to a certain person who is not helping things: All this work is NOT MY FAULT. I am sorry that MY HUGUNDOUS WORK LOAD may mean you have to do work as well, but that is YOUR JOB and don't... Read more →

Ok, I have a really funny story to tell you, but also many other boring things. So I've divided this ADD-like entry into chapters for easy reference as to What The Hell Amy Is Talking About Now. THE PART ABOUT THE SCARF Look at my scarf! That is all mine! It is a Type A Original, already the hottest thing in crocheted couture this winter. You should totally go buy one of your very own, because it's soft and pretty and I was stopped in the PARKING GARAGE by a stranger this morning who loved it so much I was a little afraid she might rip it off my neck and run away with it.* *That probably won't happen to you, so don't let it stop you from contacting Kristie and sending her money. And no, this is not a coincidence. I may have a problem. AND NOW, A WALL INTERLUDE And I am so glad I have my warm, wooly scarf, because I STILL HAVE NO HEAT IN MY HOUSE. I do, however, have a big motherfucking hole in my wall. I meant to take a picture with me holding Ceiba up to the hole because she is our... Read more →

In response to the many De-Lurking Day requests, I present a photo essay about the pets, the shoes, and the drunk. Also cows. First up, just to make everyone happy... (I took these all last night, when both pets were feeling especially squirmy and blurry and did not feel like being photographed. But I tried. FOR YOU.) Next up, the drunk. New Year's Eve drunk! This is Jen. And me. At Jen's house, which was where the party be at, bitches. We have only had three, maybe four glasses of champagne by now, tops. This is Jason. And Mike, who is engaged to Jen, whose house it was, where the party, it be at. You can SEE Jen trying to lean away from my terrifyingly large flower pin. She's all, "Put down the camera and HELP ME." Do not ask me how I got my hair to do whatever it is doing in this picture. With the flowing and the curling. I may have made a one-night pact with the devil. God help us. The white girls are dancing, and they are dancing to Snoop Dogg, and Amy has busted out her patented "Praise Be to Jesus" dance move. Jen:... Read more →

I have nothing to say, but I must post SOMETHING and put an end to the De-Lurking Day madness. Madness! My plan was to email all of my brave little lurkers and say hi and thanks for commenting and see? Don't you want emails and validation from me? Don't you want to comment more often? It was a great plan, until the comments hit 140 and still. Would. Not. Stop. I've emailed like, 20, and then those 20 people replied and said something funny and I just had to write back again, because yay, new people to waste the day away with and also, I am not a snotty bitch, regardless of what you may have read in the tabloids. So I will keep trying with the emails, just like I am still trying to finish the prizes for the Focking Swag contest from like, a month ago. But the prize is going to be so focking awesome it will be worth the wait, I swear. Remember how in High Fidelity John Cusack's character was reorganizing his record collection and his friend asked if he was doing alphabetical or chronological and John Cusack was all, "No, AUTOBIOGRAPHICAL." And then his... Read more →