Status Update. Mirror to the Soul

I am a Facebooker by way of Myspace. I guess I am a Myspace transplant. Like many of you, I too, began my superficial 'networking' journey on Myspace and have since moved on to bigger and better things as Myspace slowly began to become what I consider Daytona Beach during Spring Break. There is a certain " jiffy sto' " ickiness I feel when I sign in (yes I still have an account of course!) that I have been forced to focus all my time and energy into Facebooking. If you don't participate in either Myspace or Facebook then you might as well stop reading because you're lame! (or is it the other way around?). If you facebook religiously, then you will know up front that it's all about the status update, pictures, and the comments you generate by both your status update and pictures. Yea yea, you can write on peoples' walls and check out their personal info- but face it, we hardly do that--

I am serious when I say I have never felt such a variety of emotions from the written word. Nothing makes my blood boil more than an idiotic status on Facebook... in addition to those that are just plain entertaining, those that spark jealousy, comments that are made by the vain, the list goes on. I have come to realize that despite the superficial aspect of just saying what's going on in your life at that moment in time, there lies a deeper more intimate meaning whether you realize it or not. Chronic status updaters fall into different categories depending on the frequency of the update, message conveyed, conventions (mis)used, overall vibe, and/or comment conversations/debates they generate.

People who update their status every 15 minutes are annoying. Yes, you are. You are basically telling everyone that 1) you have no life, 2) you don't have a job, 3) you don't have many (if any) interpersonal relationships, and/or 4) you are trying too hard to give off the vibe that you lead an interesting life because you're so *busy*-- newsflash: You are probably a loser.

Category 2 involves those who have the majority of their updates referring to something they have... something they've bought...something that was bought for them...someplace fabulous they are....some place fabulous they're are going, or whatever is truly fabulous about THEM. This category has the tendency to entice the most comments from your groupies who "ooh and aaah" over how freaking fabulous you are- which of course, you LOVE and is the reason you post to begin with, right?

Category 3 includes those who post simply to start a buzz. Making a random political comment, an off color joke, insulting something that most people care about, yada yada yada. Either you are starved for attention (good or bad), or you are some nutcase who has off the wall beliefs in which case you, for some reason, enjoy making the whole world aware of. The crazies of the world are always the most vocal and obnoxious. Just look at Gator fans (no offense Gator friends teehee). Basically, you use your update privilege as a platform for your idiotic conflict/conversation starters because you have no life. Of course you are only idiotic if I happen to disagree.

Category 4 is just your random funny expression, observation on life at the moment, fodder for those who like to chuckle and move on. No real feeling or meaning behind any of it. A random food craving... a comment about some freak at your office, unruly customers, your stupid boss, looking forward to something...I love you the most. Thank you for keeping things superficial as they should be!

Category 5 is the weirdo category. Those comments that you read and just say "huh"? Perhaps poetic.... random (in a creepy weird way)... deep thoughts that aren't meant to be funny... there aren't that many of you (thank God), but we all know them- the *wannabe introspective* weirdos.

I'm sure there are others that I have forgotten or just not cared enough about to include, but this is a good start. Which category are you? Never mind, no need to say. I already know! Time to update my status.

The Price is Wrong, Bitch.

You are about to enter another dimension, a dimension not only of sight and sound... but of mind. A journey into a wondrous land of imagination. Next stop.......... daytime television! Dip deep into the black hole of your memory and remember a time when getting to stay home "sick" from school was not only a rare happening, but a day cherished by vegging on the couch with free reign over the television and ice box. To this day when I think of staying home "sick" I immediately hear the Andy Griffith whistle playing over and and over in my mind- the show I only knew existed in the obscure world daytime television. As quickly as I remember the tune, I remember quickly changing the channel because I actually hated that show. Instead I would allow myself to become immersed in the fantasy land of daytime game shows. Among the upper echelon of this genre was of course, The Price is Right. While most awkward girls my age might fantasize about being one of the glamorous Barker Beauties, I instead dreamed of being that random audience member chosen by Rod Roddy because of my sparkling personality and/or uniquely designed homemade T-shirt expressing my love for Bob Barker and his skinny microphone. After all, he would love me too, impressed by my vast knowledge of the prices of toaster ovens and Cadillacs alike. The chance to dominate on plinko and win BOTH showcase showdowns were of course delusions of grandeur.....but they were nonetheless, MY delusions... delusions that now only exist in my memory.... delusions that I hoped to rekindle while staying home from school "sick" this week, but instead got a big fat idiot standing in the way of memory lane... that fat idiot being Drew Carey of course. I know I am like a year and a half late to this train wreck, but as I sat and watched Mr. Carey's despicable attempt in hosting a show that I hold so dear to my heart, I couldn't help but wonder why he thought he could fill the shoes of the greatest game show host of all time with his stupid laid back nonchalant demeanor, beady eyes, and patronizing phony giggles!! There is no connection between you and the guests Drew....there is no love, nobody wears a 'I heart Drew' shirt and nobody wants you holding that skinny microphone! It's all a CROCK!! A SHAM! A travesty to sick kids staying home from school everywhere!!! You are no Jay Peterman and you should be ashamed of yourself! That is all.

Get Me One Please.

Just another fabulous reason to live in New York City- where in Orlando can you find a bakery that specializes in conecakes???? Apparently this delightful treat is making a mighty comeback and they couldn't be more up my alley, oKAY?! Here's how you make them:


For 12 or more servings

Ingredients:
1 box of cake mix (plus eggs, oil, water - see box for quantities)
flat bottomed ice cream cones
icing
decorations

Directions:
Follow the directions for cake mix. Stand one cone each in a muffin pan hole (usually 12). Fill the ice cream cones 3/4 full with cake batter. Bake according to the cake mix directions. When done, remove and cool completely. Ice the tops of the cones and decorate!

Other suggestions and comments:
Note: Watch the cake rise, sometimes a few cones may start to bubble over; take a toothpick and poke it down, it's less sloppy that way.


All I have to say is my kids are going to have the best teacher EVER this year!!!!!

Dear Bacon,

Even though I hate to touch you when you’re in the raw
When I cook you up to a perfect crisp, you’re anything but blah.
I enjoy you most with peanut butter which many think is gross
I crave the sweet and salty deliciousness between some whole wheat toast
Even though you spit at me and like to burn my hand
You make me fat, my stove a mess, but my kitchen can withstand
The hatred that you have for me as I burn you to perfection
Little do you know my dear oven mitt offers great protection
Don’t worry sweet bacon; you’ll live your life snug inside my freezer
Until a recipe calls for your awesomeness – then you’ll become a crowd pleaser.

This poem is dedicated to my husband and all bacon lovers out there. Holla.

Life is Sweet.

I found this pic a long time ago and just recently came across it again. Pretty much sums up everything doesn't it? It's a great day to be a woman!!!....

A serious rant. I promise it won't happen often.

As I was watching a friend open gifts at her babyshower this past weekend, I had an intense flashback, and I haven't been able to shake it since. I hope that by writing this public post it will somehow help me deal with what has been a private issue.

The flashback that I encountered was from my own wedding shower (2.5 years ago!) where I sat and opened gift after gift in front of the ones I love the most. If you're a woman and have been involved in a wedding shower, I'm sure you know the ol' "for every ribbon you snap, that's how many kids you will have! ha ha ha". I remember very well that I was careful not to snap a single one. Ever. Not one. KIDS?!?! Screw that... was my thought.

Flashforward 2.5 years to my girlfriend's babyshower where I stood watching her open gifts-- I was stricken with panic that I somehow jinxed myself for life.

It's been 18 months, thousands of dollars, and what seems like countless doctors visits since Matt and I put the green light on wanting to start a family. That's 540 days of analyzing, calculating, hoping, reading, researching, wondering, praying, pleading, crying..... all for what? 18 months later we have nothing to show for it other than a thick medical file, a lengthy credit card statement, and a lot of pent up resentment. This news may come as a surprise to some close to me- but I feel as I travel down this road of.................. INFERTILITY (there, I SAID it...breathe), I somehow feel comforted knowing that I am able to talk (type) about my issue and have people understand how I feel (or at least try to- which believe me, helps tremendously).

Please know, I am NOT on a "whoa is me" train to "my-life-is-over-ville" (At least not at the moment). I had a rough day and simply needed to put words with my thoughts. I understand that many have it worse than me, but I also see the crackhead down the street with her 47 barefooted children, so what the fuck.

Bottom line: NOBODY...NOBODY should live with the fear that they will never be able to have their own biological children and that's precisely where I reside. Now where is my glass of wine?????