Posts Tagged ‘website’

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!)


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.

спать котят, 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 крайняя половых счастлив универсал 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.


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.


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.

For the love of God, NO, I DO NOT want everything indented. Again.

Sunday, February 28th, 2010

If Micosoft and/or WordPress subject me to “contageous formatting” one more time today, I am going to scream.  Again.  Loudly.

In somewhat related news, I have finally posted that pile of information on antidepressants that I wrote up last week.  As mentioned, not in any way what I initially set out to create, but hopefully it will be useful to someone.  I do keep getting hits on my blog looking for this type of thing and feel guilty about it every time.  I KNOW HOW TO HELP YOU!  Come back!  Leave your contact info!

Of course,  following that logic, I also need a lot more info on “ninjas” and “adjectives describing umbrellas.”  They’re quiet!  They’re sneaky! They wear black!  Come back!!  I’ve got this, I know it!

Oh, and…

Wednesday, February 10th, 2010

Also, of all the things I would consider purchasing over the internet, I’m fairly sure that laser eye surgery is not one of them.

…Especially when you spell it wrong.

…Just sayin’.

??? – ????????? ??????? ?????? to you too.

Wednesday, February 10th, 2010

And holy crap, does the Russian spam love me.  The entire population of the Urals seems to think that I need penis enlargement and a new pyramid scheme.

Joke’s on them.  All of my money is already tied up bringing royalty over from Africa to endorse my $1,000,000 British lottery winnings.


I also like to move it move it.

Monday, July 6th, 2009

I suppose the recent title was more in the vein of rebelling against other people’s book titles rather than following them, so in tribute to the now eulogized “Everybody Cares,” I give to you a list of things that didn’t suck, but made me cry, and things that I have not learned about my parents ever.

1)  The Notebook

2)  Walking Down the Aisle to Get Married

3)  A Really Good Hug When It Was Badly Needed

4)  Unexpected Flowers In Acknowledgement of a Really Tough Week at Work

5)  Heavily Sauteed Onions (the raw kind sucks just fine, in my opinion)

6)  My Father is Batman

7)  I Inherited an Intrinsic Knowledge of Cha-Cha from my Father

8)  My Father Likes To Move It Move It

9)  When You Mix Two Parts Sodium to One Part Nitrogen, You Get My Father

10)  Two Times The Square Root of Seven Divided By Forty Two To the Exponent Fifty Three = My Father

I’ll leave you to decide which items belong in which category (I still get a little teary-eyed thinking about the cha-cha…).

(Or maybe what I had for dinner)

Monday, July 6th, 2009

So I think I’ve decided to go back to the original title and say at least a temporary farewell to “Everybody Cares – a blog about what I had for lunch.”  Apparently some people are beginning to take me literally, either as some sort of kum-ba-ya type site or as a thorough investigation into my midday eating habits. …Or both.  Feel the lunch.  LOVE the lunch.

Admittedly I found the assumption more amusing until I re-read the title of my most recent post.  Heh.  Unintentional, that.

So I am toting the emotional umbrella once again.  Shame on you all for not knowing your blogosphere celebrities well enough to fully appreciate my pithy attempt to be clever.   My next blog post will cover both things that sucked and then made me cry, and things I learned about one of my parents in therapy.

I watched that show for years thinking maybe this would finally be the episode…

Tuesday, June 16th, 2009

In deciding whether or not to include a photo on the site as a part of whatever I eventually replace the super shiny words-inside-a-colour masthead I currently have with, I’ve determined that maybe I’ll approach things like the villain from Inspector Gadget.  Just show my arm and maybe a cat.  Muar har har.

Okay, not really.  You may get a hand-drawn stick figure if you’re lucky.  Maybe I’ll just keep the crappy one and call it retro.