Out of Ideas

I want to write about something but am drawing a blank.  Maybe I'm slightly distracted by my normally reserved daughter's gyrations to the Glee soundtrack in the kitchen.  Maybe I'm too tired.  Maybe I've run out of things to say.  That's really unlikely though.

My husband wants to go out tonight.  We've talked about taking in a movie.  Do you people know what time a late show starts these days?  Freakin' 10:15.  I'm not really comfortable falling asleep in the theatre.  Don't get me wrong, I've done it before and so would like to avoid it.  Actually I wouldn't have minded falling asleep during 'Inglorious Basterds' but the theatre was freezing so no such luck.

He also suggested drinking.  I'm not really in the mood for that either. I'm tired. My three year old must have just won a Guinness World Record award this week for the child with the most energy in the history of the world while 'down' with the chicken pox.  I'm afraid I'd have one drink and nod off. 

He though, had a very stressful week as he is working for the real-life equivalent of, well I want to say Marie Barone from Everybody Loves Raymond but I'm not really sure that encapsulates it.  Ryan really is patient by nature but this woman has put him over the edge.  She gave him food and he THREW IT AWAY.  He does not throw food away.  Ever.  He really does not like her and having met her myself and having her ask me my name three times within seven minutes, I can't say I'm a fan either.  She then decided she'd remember my name, Angela, by associating it with 'angel' as in and she said: "Ryan's wife is an angel. Angela." Okay then, I guess I'll remember her name with the following:  'Marilyn is a moron'.  I think if Marilyn could've read my mind the other day, that is if she isn't illiterate, and believe me I have my suspicions, she'd have a whole other word association with which to remember me by.

Gotta go, time to Busta' Move.

Plain Jane

So what with the fancy new laptop and all I am spending more time on line.  What I am learning is my blog is beyond basic.  What I also learned is apparently my comments on other blogs are not up to snuff.  I tried to comment on Sassy Curmudgeon's blog and it doesn't appear she approved it.  It was a funny little comment plus I said I liked her blog. I call that bitchy, not 'Sassy'.

However, through her blog I found another one I liked but lost it again but she wrote one about being on Cymbalta and therefore not being able to drink beer as well as she used to.  I personally find my Vodka tales more entertaining but that being said, hers was good.  The thing is, both of these woman have all kinds of stuff all over their blogs.  Apparently there are blog awards, there are all kinds of blogging networks and societies.  And I need to either hone in on this stuff or just write a damn book already because as much as I continue to amuse my mother, she is not going to pay me to do this which is the ultimate goal.

Why can't I just enjoy writing for the sake of writing?  Because today a client gave me shit for taking last week off of work.  I don't need that. 

For now, it's off to bed. Rest up because I forsee many hours ahead spent on jazzing this blog up. That's right, I said it, I'm all about the jazz.

I'm also all about Glee and an inappropriate Cougar crush on Finn when he sang Jesse's Girl. Don't be a hater and judge me.  Or do, and comment on my blog.  Guess what?  No matter how mean it is, I'll approve it.  That's how I roll and that, I think, is pretty darn Sassy.