Posts Tagged ‘website’

Substance

Wednesday, August 4th, 2010

I received my first ever blog award badge thingy!  …Or the first that I know of, I guess.  It is possible that somewhere out there a vast grouping of Russian cat-loving stick people have been waiting for my acceptance speech, but I haven’t yet caught on to it.  много спасибо для значка, Russian people.  At any rate, many thanks to the lovely IfByYes for the acknowledgment.  It is sincerely appreciated (and if you’re not reading her yet, get over there already!  She is eloquent, and open, and has an uncanny habit of sometimes reading my mind.  And the courtesy not to tell everyone about all the zombie stuff in there).

And, she happens to think this is…

I will admit to feeling somewhat inclined to fill this post with photos of various unidentified substances.  …But I imagine that would somewhat detract from my worthiness to keep the badge.

So my badge comes with rules:

1) Thank the blogger who awarded it to you.

Really?  Are there truly people out there who wouldn’t already have done that by this point?  Clearly the substance in that blog is rather dense.  Anyway, IfByYes, I extend to you a formal thank you, in compliance with rule number one of subsection two of the substance-related-badges act.  Thank you, IfByYes.  Thank you.

2) Sum up your blogging philosophy, motivation, and experience using five words.

Um… “Try not to misspell stuff?”

This seems to be asking an awful lot out of five words.  It’s kind of like “sum up your existence with one haiku.”  I will try, though.  I suppose a more comprehensive answer might be:

Transparency

Reflection

Connection

Perseverance

Holy Crap People are Commenting on This Stuff Sometimes

3) Pass it on to 10 other blogs which you feel have real substance.

I freely acknowledge that the whole point of these things is to give a shout-out to people you think are worthy.  Part of me hates having to do this kind of thing, though, because I’m always afraid of having a brain slip and leaving somebody out, or that person number eleven will be secretly crushed they didn’t make it.  Plus, “real substance”?  Rough.  Okay, here goes…

Blogs with Substance:

1.  http://www.spokeit.com/spoke/

Spokeit is often reflecting on and refining her goals, moods, and approach to life, which gives her substance in my book.  And her dog is just about the cutest thing I’ve ever seen.  I’m going to call that substance too.  He is substantially cute.

2.  http://annenahm.com/

This is mostly a very humourous mommy blog.  …But every now and then she gets a little bit serious and shares something more personal too.  Substance!

3.   http://itwaddle.blogspot.com/

In amongst the amusing bits, Susan is introspective and reflective, and has a habit of sharing insights into her life that are disturbingly familiar.  She’s also a mom, and has been recently faced with a newly-labeled case of depression.  In addition, she left the second-ever comment here, and it involved coffee in her nasal passages.  Girl’s got style.

4.  http://sonyasworld.com/

This was definitely a blog with substance.  A very candid look at a journey through one woman’s mental illness from her husband’s point of view.  He was always very open about things.  Fortunately, at last account, his wife was doing better and he was spending his time with her rather than blogging for others.

5.http://www.findingoptimism.com/blog/reviews/is-depression-the-new-black/

Do blogs that aren’t really personal-type blogs count for this kind of thing?  There are a lot of observations here about what’s going on when it comes to depression, and resources for people fighting their way through it.  And stuff like this that I found amusing.  …I mean, substantial!

6.www.apparentlyIreadmuchmoreforhumourthanIdoforseriouscontent.com

Um…By “Substance” You Meant “Humorous Stick People” Right?

7.http://steammeupkid.blogspot.com/2010/07/why-i-will-only-draw-your-portrait-if.html

8.  http://www.lefthandedtoons.com/34/

9.  http://hyperboleandahalf.blogspot.com/

10.  http://xkcd.com/773/

I thought so.

Okay, so this damned list took me hours of agonizing because I like all of you so much but didn’t feel that “substantial” was quite the right word to sum some of you up, and then in the end I just ended up listing people so famous they have no need for my quaint little website badge.  Because they have larger website badges, I presume.  Badges so large they do not even fit on their site.

Also, for all of you that I’ve apparently arbitrarily decided are completely ethereal, I offer the following badges, which I feel apply to many people likely to read these words.  Let me know if you would like to be considered for one, and I will engage in a long deliberation process and then gift it to you.

Hulk no understand why internet not amuse Hulk

Tuesday, July 13th, 2010

The last few weeks I’ve been a little lax in writing here mostly due to spending a great deal of time sitting in dumbfounded wonder going “I don’t feel like crap.  …I don’t feel like crap!”  And then looking around in confusion about what to do with myself.  It’s been a while.  I amassed a whole list of brief tidbits and observations about completely inane and lighthearted things that I thought I might write about sometime.  When I felt like it.  Because who wants to waste time writing when one could be, like, breathing, or walking around or something.

…Which means that when, in the last week or so, I found myself suddenly surrounded by those dark grey clouds that follow around gloomy cartoon donkeys, it was a bit of an unexpected kick in the teeth.  I don’t know exactly what’s gone awry.  I don’t know if it was just such a relief to not be completely knocked flat that things felt temporarily better than they were.  I don’t know if the pressure and stress of What To Do Next started getting to me.  I don’t know if my chemistry was a little fried from the past year of medicinal craziness.   Am I getting enough sleep?  Enough sun?  Enough caffeine?  Am I getting too much natural sugar?  Not enough sugar?  Did I step on a crack?  That mother’s back thing always seemed a little suspicious if you ask me.

At any rate, the last few days in particular have kind of sucked.  Kind of sucked like a cute little all encompassing vortex of despair.  I’ve been a bit loathe to admit that here, to be honest.  I was so happy to be doing better, damn it.  Plus, putting it in writing makes it all somehow more real.  And it already feels deceptively permanent.  I would probably be a lot less disappointed a lot less often if I could sincerely take each day as it comes, but as it turns out I am less good at that, and more super super great at taking the feelings of the moment and projecting them over the next several months.  So those two days I was feeling super productive mean it’s time to plan for a return to work, and the last couple days of crapitude mean I’m doomed to another lasting stretch of boredom and hopelessness and bad T.V.

All in all, I just feel sort of lost at the moment.  I’m so eager to just GET ON WITH THINGS already.  Filling in a quick depression inventory scale gives numerical backing to the fact that yes, I am indeed feeling much like crap.  Except for the thoughts of self-harm (which inexplicably but thankfully seem to be missing), I’ve got every symptom off the charts again.  Fuck.  There are still things to be tried.  I am way too stubborn not to kick this thing eventually. …But sheesh.  How freaking long am I supposed to wrestle with this??  …And why did my brain just provide “moose canoe” as the appropriate profanity to follow that statement?   At least I know that while I may not be in any danger of recovering in the near future, I am also apparently in no danger of becoming normal.  Phew.

This time around has some new bits to it too.  I used to rate fairly minimally on the whole “irritability” side of things.  I’m more likely to burst into tears than to burst into a room through the wall.  Not so this time, apparently.  This time my husband gives me a dirty look for accidentally brushing his face with my foot in my attempt to get off the couch (from my admittedly unconventional positioning), and I go from “meh” to “KILL!!!” in ten seconds or less.  Except that I haven’t lost the other symptoms either, so now I’m crying and angry and the back of my mind is telling me that clearly we’ve lost all of our closeness and our relationship is doomed.  And I want to smash things.  And swear.  And swear about smashing things.   I’ve gotten pretty good now at telling the difference between sincere emotions and the bizarre parodies induced by chemical changes, and let’s just say these ones are having a little chemical parade.

So mostly I am just waiting things out for the moment.  I go through the motions of low-energy activities during the day, and try to roll as gracefully as I can with the waves of “Aaaaaaaah” that tend to hit me in the evening.   And try to keep in mind that this could all be dramatically different tomorrow.  It happens that fast.

On the plus side, this gives me time to do normally not-as-engaging things like sift through my older Google Analytics stats and learn that now in addition to the multitude of hugging animal searches, antidepressant questions, bits of random Russian, and quests for stick figures doing various (mostly dirty) things, I’ve now also welcomed in a not insignificant number of search hits from “hulk no understand” and several variations on “amuse me, internet!”  Love it.

I’m probably more down with KFC. …Or CIBC. …Or maybe the BBC.

Sunday, April 11th, 2010

That’s not true.  It find it totally greasy now.  And salty.  And really kind of gross.  The BBC is okay, though.  Sort of boring sometimes.

It was another largely successful weekend.  I thrive on variety and new experiences, so I always feel more vital and lively when I’m exploring something new.  If it’s not likely to hurt me, and I haven’t done it before, I want to try it.  My husband knows this, which means teasing me often about abandoning poor loyal cucumber (my previous default flavour) in search of new ones. Sometimes, though, it also means he will suggest out of the blue that we go do something just for the sake of doing something different.  And I love him for this.

We explored a different town yesterday.  The vast metropolis of nonvastnonmetropolisville.  We didn’t bring directions, and we didn’t bother to find out what was there.  We just packed up and decided to spend the day.  Part of my wedding speech for my husband involved how much we sincerely look forward to long car trips together, so the fact that it was a bit of a drive wasn’t bad.  I miss getting the chance to just hang out with him.  When we’re laughing and talking and joking together I forget for a while that my chemistry is out of whack.

(As it turns out, nonvastnonmetropolisville is pretty much as exotic as its name might suggest.  It does have a Wal-Mart, and a movie theatre, and a Mexican restaurant that we’d never tried before.  And there were slot machines on the way, so we totally had to go in there.  I had never played on a slot machine before.  Big spender there, me and my five dollar bill.  I know.  But that’s just the kind of rebel I am.)

There were no tears yesterday, nor today, which seems like something that should be a given, but hasn’t been for some time.   We did hit one snag in the evening when I wasn’t up to seeing the movie he wanted to (with the whole reverberating ear thing, I figured that super loud probably wouldn’t be the best idea).  He was totally fine with it, wonderful, and supportive, and not at all upset, but I felt overwhelmingly guilty and worried that I was being selfish (truth be told, it wouldn’t have been my first choice of film).  I feel like I can’t always trust my judgment anymore because I know that it’s sometimes skewed.  So I was a little paralyzed over whether or not we should see the movie anyway.  There was some welling in my eyes, but I think I was really more upset that I was having an issue than about the issue itself.  It sucks to be reminded that everything isn’t well yet.  I am boggled sometimes that I can go from perfectly normal to meltdown within twenty seconds.

Today has been smooth, though.  And there are burritos.  Because we’ve already made tacos, chicken fajitas, and beef fajitas in succession.  But we always seem to have a few ingredients left over, and it would be a shame to let them go to waste, right?  That, and we’re apparently a little obsessed with Mexican food these days.

Also in breaking news, apparently a whole pile of Naughty By Nature tribute sites have just crashed and burned, because as of last Thursday Emotional Umbrella is apparently the place to be if one is looking for “I’m down with OPP.” …Or many poorly spelled or less grammatically correct versions thereof (also “I’m on the OPP,” for folks who like to be different).  A veritable flurry of search hits.  Before last Thursday?  Not a one.

Hello Naughty By Nature folks.  Unfortunately aside from the occasional blasphemy (and monogamous sexual adventures that I don’t write about here) I’m probably not really all that naughty.  Search on, my friends.  Search on.

Engage

Wednesday, April 7th, 2010

It is super cool having new visitors stop by here.  That is a side effect of sending those cartoons that I totally wasn’t thinking of at the time, but it’s nice.  …You see how I made a point of saying that there?  Because I realized at some point today that people might assume I was trolling for traffic.  And I worry about things like that (because heaven forbid that someone I’ve never met should temporarily have a mistaken impression of me.  I also dislike Rod Stewart, cram my freezer full of crap I’ll never eat again, and have a thing for goats.  Because they’re wily.  In case that helps to clear anything up.).  Anyway, there were no ulterior motives.  My brain just grabs onto things and runs with them in strange ways sometimes.   Which is probably better for my popularity than if it was the rest of my body grabbing things and running with them in strange ways.

And since I try very much to be sincere here, I will also mention that I do get a bit of a crazy high from feeling socially validated in even small ways.  …Probably more than I should (Shhhhh…don’t tell the new people!).   I think I may also get smarter.

My little burst of energy has made it a bit more difficult to keep myself from overworking, though.  Remember how I had mentioned that having been so low previously, I was having difficulty keeping a reasonably accurate relative scale for how I’m doing now and what I should be expecting from myself?  Yup.  Still am.

At the beginning of the week, I was hopeful that maybe, possibly, I could try to accomplish some task during a day (one whole thing – wouldn’t that be nifty cool!).  Yesterday, I scheduled car maintenance, had my tires changed, researched mosquito repellants, read a chapter in my self-help book, purchased new furnace filters and miscellaneous hardware supplies, purchased ant and mosquito killing supplies, purchased tea tree and citronella oils, got groceries, implemented the anty death, did the household laundry, phoned my doctor, rescheduled a massage appointment, spoke with my mom, mixed up a batch of essential oil bug repellant based on the morning’s research, made dinner, and probably did at least a few other work tasks that I’m not thinking of right now.  And I was about to do a bunch of putting things away when I was forced to pause.

But we needed the mosquito repellant, see, because we finally got some cheapy patio furniture for our back yard, and we had these grand visions of us eating dinner out there, carefree and laughing, with a steak knife in one hand and a glass of wine in the other, talking about the high points of our day, and maybe politics or philosophy, as the warm spring breeze kissed our hair, and the subtle scent of flowers wafted by.  Except that a couple of evenings ago, when we were out there around dinner time putting the stuff together, we discovered a tiny, itchy, West-Nile-carrying flaw in our dramatic plans.  Important, right?

My husband had to tell me firmly last night that I should not do anything work-related for at least the next couple of days.  No mail, no paperwork, no phone calls, no errands, no shopping, no laundry, no cleaning, no organizing, no work of any kind.  I can see his point.  I’ve been feeling almost able to get things done lately, so I’ve been naturally falling back into go-go-go mode, and getting guilty twinges when I pause to do anything unproductive.  A lot of the time, I live in a state of chipmunk-on-crack activity.  That is a lot of my problem, though.  I need to learn to balance, and to moderate, and not to push myself too hard too fast.  This seems so obvious looking in on the situation that it’s laughable.  In my head, though, woo-boy, I better get on that laundry or the hubby will think I’m a slacker.  And hello?  I can’t work less than an eight hour day now that I’m off work for medical reasons!  And there are things.  And they need doing.  How can I not do things??  I had to think his proposition through for a moment, as I already really had been (unintentionally) creating potential to-do lists in my head for the next few days.  But I agreed in the end.  No work.

At which point, he promptly told me not to fill that time doing nothing but light therapy, and visualization, and meditation, and yoga, and tai chi, and reading self-help books instead.  Because my baby knows me well.  And I was totally mentally crossing out every administrative item and replacing it with something I feel like I “should” be doing from the getting better list instead.

And I may have ended up just sitting down now, at 6:13pm, for my first focused bout of “relaxation time.”  But I had good excuses, I swear.  Okay, maybe not good ones, but excuses.  Okay, maybe I can’t remember what I did between 3 and 6 today.  But I’m sure it was important.  It’s just so freaking hard to STOP when I think I can manage to GO.

I think I currently only come in the flavours of Burnt Out or Hyperdrive.  All poetically cyclic, I know.

Also, in answering comments on the previous post, I realized that stick people cannot hug and kiss at the same time, nor can they look at each other during sex.  Poor stick people.  That would be sad for them.

Large, bulbous heads are not always as much of an asset as one might initially think.

Squee

Wednesday, April 7th, 2010

Hey!  I won a contest!  In addition to a lot of participant ribbons, second prize in a singing competition with two entries (seriously – and my teacher at the time heard the news of my second place finish and was so genuinely happy for me that I didn’t have the heart to tell him there was no one else there), and a kind of shady set of modeling lessons from the mall, I can now add “Importance of Humor” contest winner on http://nakedcupcakes.blogspot.com/ (shut up, okay. This is totally more badass than the mall lessons).

If you aren’t already reading http://nakedcupcakes.blogspot.com/, you really should.  She is witty, and entertaining, and sometimes has contests for her readers (Hello??  Contests!).

I am going to say http://nakedcupcakes.blogspot.com/ some more now.

http://nakedcupcakes.blogspot.com/.

Of course, anybody new who pops by here via her site is landing on the Lamest of all Lame Stretches in EmotionalUmbrellaLand, but c’est la vie.  Sometimes I giggle a lot.  Sometimes I want to stab myself (but not really. …kinda).  And in between, I apparently moan about our office ant infestation.  Prime audience-building stuff, that.

At any rate, here is my entry, captured for posterity’s sake.

A Pictorial Treatise on the Uses of Humor

I find humor most useful for its social benefits.  I like humor because…

1) It instantly diffuses potentially awkward situations.

I loves me a good April Fool's joke.  My husband does too.  We so TOTALLY get each other that way.

2) It is a powerful feature in attracting the opposite sex.

She's also diabetic!

3) It always works wonderfully at job interviews.

Sometimes they don't even call me back because they're afraid I will be SO funny that no one will be able to get any work done!

And last but not least,

I like humor because it gives me an excuse to sometimes use Microsoft Paint.  And who couldn’t use more of that?

Actually I do this with alarming frequency.  Seriously.

Filling in the Gaps

Sunday, March 28th, 2010

In reading another site, it occurred to me that an overview of events thus far might be helpful to have here.  In case people started reading.  And wanted to know what’s gone on.  But don’t want to read all of my archives.  Because they really don’t care what I had for lunch in July.

I’m still boggling over the fact that anybody’s reading this at all, but if you’re interested, there is now a brief overview of the history of all this over at the sidebar. Of course, once I got started writing I got characteristically overzealous, so by “brief” I mean “somewhat less elaborate than writing out a full minute-by-minute transcription of the events in question.” But if you know me at all by now, that shouldn’t come as a shock.

And if you don’t, well there’s this handy overview in the sidebar…

Poorly Chosen

Sunday, March 21st, 2010

I am endlessly entertained by the spam comments that try to sound like they’re actual interested readers of the blog.  There are a few posts in which I may have actually said something useful, but for some reason those tend not to be the ones that get bombarded with spam.   And lets face it, a lot of what I say here is…how shall we say…not exactly profound.  Half the time, the only reason I vividly remember that a certain post exists at all is the crazy number of comments I have to delete from it.  And sometimes they just match up so amusingly with the entry they’ve chosen to comment on.

Really, interested reader promoting online poker?  You are going to post a link to this post or the one after because you think that they could inspire a very interesting debate and you think that I have a really insightful take on the subject?   Really?

And you think that it would be “more interesting if the author left the Yahoo Messenger” so that you could “discuss this theme more deeply?”

“Pirates of the Carribean is really good. Lol, my little sister is a huge fan”  on this post actually threw me for a loop for a minute before I noticed that the author of the comment was advertising for a company.

Also, “If you are wondering how you can help with this or future events, please contact us .” was exceptionally helpful as a response to this.  I was, in fact, wondering how I could help.

I also got one today that promised to make a Youtube video about my orgasm post.  Heh.  No.  Thanks.

In related news, in re-reading those posts, I realized that I really have now actually posted about yaks.  Eegad.

It’s almost like we’re the same person.

Monday, March 15th, 2010

I’ve been thinking a lot about dreams lately.  Not just because of my relief at finding out where my subconscious has been storing its gay, but just in general.  The more I reflect on it, the more it seems like my dreams are just the amalgamation of every thought that crossed my mind even very briefly during daylight hours, assembled with a loose and often very strange plot line.  I’m not a big believer in dream interpretation in the classic sense (and by “not a big believer” I mean that I think it’s total bs).  I do not believe that the presence of a yak in my dreams portents any special thought into my uniqueness and dependability, or that I talk too much (which, I kid you not is apparently what this is supposed to mean).  It probably means that I like yaks.  Which I kind of do.  Sometimes.

I have found, though, that the emotions experienced in my dreams can say a LOT about what I’m feeling in my real life.  Completely ignoring the circumstances and discarding whatever crazy plot generates them in my dreaming head, the pure emotions themselves seem to be extremely representative of things I’ve felt that day.  Sometimes in a more refined way that makes it easier for me to identify them accurately, and pick out the specific cause.  I try to be aware of my emotions in general, and have been actively trying to pin down every emotion I can since starting my journey of depression recovery.  Every now and then I notice that “ungh” feeling in my stomach, though, and am unable to identify precisely what it is that’s causing it.  Sometimes the dreams can help with that.

This morning in that state between defining myself as formally “awake” and actually regaining consciousness for a long enough period that I could, you know, open my eyes or move about or such, I drifted into a dream in which I realized that all of our financial worries were actually okay, since we could just live off my blog income (which probably involved a lot of creative budgeting, since the income from my personal depression blog is a grand total of ZERO DOLLARS).  What were we ever worried about??

But in my dream state, it was irrelevant that I am nowhere near even three digit hits per day, and that a very large portion of those want to see hugging animals.  I was an internet success, and just like Dooce was now blogging my way to financial security.

So I was thinking.  Maybe I really am like Dooce.  Maybe my subconscious is seeing connections here that I am not.  I mean, I figure that I already have a leg up because I SOMETIMES USE ALL CAPS.  Except MAYBE NOT ALWAYS AS EFFECTIVELY AS HER.

Dooce puts items on her pet’s head I could put items on my pet’s head!

Cat With Duck On Head (lets see you search specifically for that one, internet!)

…briefly.

Folding under the pressure of potential fame

Dooce has a gorgeous baby who likes to gnaw on apples.  I have apples!  If I had a baby, she could be chewing on this one as we speak.  Hoo-boy, would my baby be chewing on that but good!

This may be the nicest fruit-related photograph that I have ever taken.

Dooce is fond of special finds of beautiful creative items that people have made.  Behold the handmade laundry statuette that is currently displayed in my bedroom!  We were going to go with the dining area, but I figured I would want it close while I sleep.  Creates that safe and inviting atmosphere.  The kind that says “You can rest easy here.  Throw caution to the wind.  Heck, throw some clothing while you’re at it.”  Not actually purchased on etsy, but I’m a sucker for a handsome one-of-a-kind art piece whatever the source.

Notice how the light plays off its various angles

The list goes on.

Dooce had a crappy Maytag.  I had a crappy Maytag!
Dooce has a website that is read by around 300,000 people per day.  I have a website!
Dooce was raised Mormon through her youth.    I…am aware that religion exists.

Yes, the similarities are endless.

Dooce writes well thought-out and entertaining posts… I wake up and blog my dream state delusions because I don’t feel like being particularly deep today.

What?  I did say that it was important to ignore the context…  Can’t get too picky with details when you’re working with dreams.  We both blog.  That’s all I’m sayin’.

That, and that I need to stop thinking about yaks.

спящие котята, if you’re curious

Friday, March 12th, 2010

Sometimes I have no choice but to laugh at myself.

So for those of you that have been following along with the home game, you will know that when it comes to referencing this website I generally have one of two things to say.  The second runner-up is that I spend a lot of time bemoaning the amount of Russian spam I get (Seriously.  Why does Russia hate me so much?  And want me to buy their stuff?  And what is a некоторые anyway?).  My husband actually hears a lot more of this than you do…As far as I can remember I’ve actually been relatively restrained here.

The only thing that makes this website even more special than its popularity with sleazy Russians is the VAST OVERWHELMING NUMBERS of search hits since the Great Kitten Picture Debacle of ’09.  In which I posted a picture of a kitten.  Hugging a puppy.  Which holy raining crap do people ever like to look at.  I have said this before, but I am consistently amazed with the new ways that people find to look for kitten photos.  “Cats lying down,”  “Photos of cats lying down,” “summaries of portraits of photos of cats lying down,” …in addition to about a million variations on “dog hugging cat,” or “cat hugging dog,” or “two cats hugging,” or “hugging animals,” or “there’s a man in the habit of hitting me with umbrella analysis” (okay, that last one might not be related.  But still, strange, no?)   You get the picture.  If you organize my top search terms of all time, the first couple of pages all have something to do with cute, or cats, or the occasional polar bear.  The hugging animal industry generates WAY more visits to my internet space than anything I’ve ever had to say.

Ahem.

So back to the story, I glanced at my search terms today, and it appears that I have graduated up the Russian ladder.  There are now not one, not two, but FOUR separate hits to my blog this week using a Russian search term.  It is the same term every time.  I have a moment of confusion.  Did I accidentally approve one of those spam comments?  Is there a Russian viagra ad hiding somewhere amidst my posts?  I am relatively certain I have never learned and posted in Russian before.  After a brief hesitation in which each of these things actually runs through my drug-addled brain, I recall that I did, once, post something mocking in Russian, on the very post where I have mentioned this before here.  It was the title, in fact.  This makes perfect sense to me.  I am confused at its new popularity, but relieved.

Just out of curiosity, I look up the post.  It doesn’t match.

What the hell else could people be searching for on my site, in Russian??

So, as with all great life dilemmas, I turn to the internet.  The Russian-English dictionary will help me.  …Except that it returns no results.  I try another.  No results.  Russian-English “translator” maybe?  Still no.  I’m not well-versed in the Russian alphabet (although instructed well enough by spam sites to recognize it now, apparently), so I don’t know exactly what the problem was.  I cut.  I pasted.  That’s the best I could do.

So now I have this search phrase, which apparently has no meaning but is steadily gaining popularity amongst the hungry internet community.  They can’t be searching for it if it doesn’t mean anything, right?  So I search it myself, just to see what comes up.  My site does not appear to be in the top hits (no kidding, phrase I’ve never used).  That could be a good thing.   I scan the little abbreviated text excerpts under each link.

And at this point I begin to grow suspicious.

Lots of Russian, lots of Russian, lots of Russian, lots of Russian…did that say “kitty litter?” Lots of Russian, Oh-My-God that is a video of a cat!

It cannot be.

So I give it just one more try.  And just like in the movies, now that the timing is poignant, this translator works.

Sleeping kittens.

It means sleeping freaking kittens.

Apathetic

Wednesday, March 10th, 2010

Do you ever have one of those times where you almost don’t want to post to your blog because you’ll likely be edging out the one decent post hanging on at the bottom of the page, and part of you thinks that this will be the week that a million different people decide randomly to find you, and they would have all been hooked if they could just have read that post?  Except, you don’t know which post it is exactly that people would actually be interested in reading?  So you post this anyway?

Sometimes I feel like I’m about to push a good mood off the page, and that makes me sad.

Mostly today I’m just feeling a little like a whiny five-year-old, trying to avoid all of those oh-so-huge responsibilities I’ve heaped on myself.  Five-year-olds hate that stuff – like eating unusually-shaped vegetables, and wearing socks, and posting to one’s depression blog.  Damned okra.  What vegetable has the right to look like a deep sea creature anyway?

I’m feeling a lot more these days like I am trying very hard to go through the motions of being “normal,” but I’m not entirely sure how much good its really doing me.  Mostly that seems to mean that I would look presentable if anyone were to surprise me at the door, and smile when answering phone calls, but I’m not actually doing much more than moving from task to task with little real involvement or thought.  I’m just not really in the mood for a lot of self-reflection and analysis right now, and that’s really all that usually makes me feel like I’m moving forward.   I feel a little foggy.  Faded.  Grey.

(I had a friend once who when asked how he took his coffee would jokingly answer “Black. …like my future!!”  Cracks me up every time.)

It’s difficult to post here when I’m grey, because lack of self-reflection means limited new developments to report.  And then I start doing things like writing about my cats.  And really…no good can come of that.

Tomorrow I will be spending with a friend of mine and her unfairly cute baby.  That is not unexpected, as she is also pretty unfairly good-looking.  She and her husband could be plastic, and boxed up, and sold in department stores.  I will name her as a “friend” since that is probably her official designation.  It’s funny, though, what a broad variety of meanings that word can have.  We see each other maybe a few times a year.  We knew each other well in high school and sort-of-well in University.  So she is my friend.  I always feel a little self-conscious around her, though.  Maybe because I associate her with that awkward period in high school when I was self-conscious in about everything in general.  Maybe because she could be plastic and boxed up and sold to my child someday.

Ah well.  At the very least, my life is a creature of variety these days.  So while this particular phase kind of sucks, there is sure to be an entirely different one within a week or two.  It’s a little odd living at such extremes of emotion, but at least having most of my moods at the mercy of changes in medication means that whatever they are, they will be temporary.

The socks, though,…I’m thinking they’re here to stay.  An unfortunate business, that.