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Which is taller, a square or a rectangle?

If you read my other blog, you know that I have this looming Christmas (sans alcohol, I might add) party coming up.  There is little to dread, much to look forward to, but if you read my last post, the former becomes what I look forward to and the latter is what I dread.  The Irish in me, again.  Fall back excuse.

Right now my dread is that I don't have hot shoes.  This is muy, muy bothersome for me.  First of all, I had a group of 10 or so people tell me the other day that they think I'm taller than Mr Incredible (a rectangle always looks taller than a square).  This does not fly with me.  I used to very confidently wear heels with him (we are both 5'9).  Now I feel as though I'm going to be stuck wearing- what?  Flats and dress with tights?  That, too, does not fly with me.  (and if you're wondering, my "hot shoes" that I had suddenly started making my legs feel less Sarah, more Bristol-esque.  In other words, salvationarmy.)  I know I could get away with boots, but flat boots are cazh.

So what's a girl to do?  My best advice to you is to stay tuned.  Because I'm at a loss.

kiwi

versus Mr Inc.  Who looks taller to YOU

   

Crossing Fingers

Today will be the moment of truth.

Remember how the van bit the dust?  Yes, well it has been sitting at the car shop since then until we could decide what to do with it.  Much is involved in that decision.  First we have to clear everything out, which in itself will be epic.  I have everything from sunscreen to boots that don't fit anyone to my my marriage certificate.  ha.  Really.  Then we have to decide where to dump it.  Did you know that there is a fine to bring it to a dumpster???  Absurd.

Procrastination patience always prevails.  My dad just so happened to run into the Car Dealer and he delivered good news.  If we can drive the van to the lot, and they can find something wrong with our right axel (it's been recalled) then they will give us either a rental car until we buy a new car, or they will give us money towards a new car.

I didn't want us not having a car to be a family affair, but my dad and Mr Incredible are going to try try try to make the van drive from the shop to the store.  My Dad following Mr Inc in case the car breaks down.  When I told my dad that I would follow him so my Dad didn't have to be involved, he looked at me as though I was asking him to direct me toward the best dating sites or to give me internet fax reviews.  In other words, he thought it was absurd for me to risk waiting on the side of the road with the girls in tow, while we waited for the tow truck.

So everyone silently at your computers say a little "vroom baby vroom" for me.  And the monstrosity called minivan.

The Grandiosity of Assisted Living

I went to college to become an Occupational Therapist.  Mainly because I love LOVE helping people.  I don't know why, it's in my bones.  It's probably because I come from a family of Health Care people.  Nurses, mainly.

If I've ever told you anything about my work ethic, we all know... what work ethic?  Zero.  It's embarrassing and shameful that a person like me can really make Denny's have a hard time ticking.   There are two jobs, however, that I positively loved.  Enough to finish my shift and not call in sick once a week.  (I don't know why these jobs kept me around.  I must have the kavorka.)  The first one is a group home.  I LOVED these people.  (Not the workers, though.  Isn't there always one named Kathy The Smoker who hates the world, her ex husband and her daughter that won't move out of the house at age 37?)  One of the residents was always yelling.  HI KIERAAAAA.  MAYBE DA NEXT TIME I CAN SEE YOUR BABYYYYYYYYY.  WHO FREW DAT AT MEEE?  She was also very strong with behavioral issues.  In other words, she could snap your neck if you didn't watch your back.

Then there was the public masturbator.  This is no lie.  This one time I brought him to a baseball game.....

Then there was Doug, who was obsessive compulsive and obsessed over (including but not limited to) my dad, jack fm, me, other workers, anesthesia (my dad's a nurse anethsetist).

Job number two was an assisted living home.  I was a "dietary aide" aka lunch lady.  Then I was promoted (demoted?)  (moted?) to "residential aide" aka the dirty work.  Where I had to scrub just about anything and anyone in the building.  And give medicine!  and put on pressure stockings!  and lotion in unreachable places!  buuut ilovedit.

So maybe I like having "rewarding" jobs, but I think what it really boils down to is shower stools, double shower heads and floral bath towels.  It's like a taste of luxury.  Or is it a taste of what's to come?

Pink to Crimson

The only time in my life I've ever been relieved to find that I had low comment numbers on a blog post was yesterday.  So shame on you if you didn't read it, because you'll probably have no idea what I was talking about.  OHHHbut I'll explain.  I wouldn't leave you hanging that bad.

Over the weekend I received an email to do some advertising on my blog (for money!  Oh for the love of money.)  My friends were over as I was checking me email.  And we may or may not have been carousing.    Anydrinkfest I eagerly (oh so eagerly!) replied to my email just to have my gmail go apesnap on me.  So I googled this person's name who sent me the email and clicked on the link that brought me no where.  All I could find was his facebook, linkdin, myspace.  But then, oh then, I saw something about a virus.  So I looked at it and behold! I found it, I caught him!  This "man" was not a man, he was a virus (from which I'll with hold his name.  Because I leaked it like whoa this weekend.)  A virus that gives you all sorts of popups!  I virus that is a nuisance, though not that  bad.

I panicked and like any other good blogger I blogged about it immediately (after the headache subsided the next day).  I titled the post 'I'll be damned, ________.'  And damned was I when I received an email from him this morning.  Damned was I when I rechecked my references.  Damned was I when I realized you should never drink and read emails.  Or research spam and viruses.  Damned was I when I realized I lost my visions of laying in a bed of cash that I'd earned through blogging (without using Adsense!).  Damnit.

But in all seriousness, I do owe this guy a sincere apology.  It is totally not my style to slam someone's name, especially all over the www.  But I really did think that his name was the name of a virus, so I didn't have any hesitation.  I was sure satellites were watching in my windows all day, until I got his email.  I felt like such a predator.  Sorry, ______.

Now who wants their business in my sidebar???

Put through the wringer

Well congratulations, me!  I've had my first mean anonymous commenters on my last post.  Although, really they're not that anonymous.

I wrote a (mean, in retrospect) comment on someone else's blog.  Along the lines of, wow that was boring. Only because I'm every day thoroughly entertained by this person.  I've read the blog for at least a year every day, sometimes checking MORE than once in hopes that there'd be another post.

My comment:  funny?  Apparently not.  Hurtful?  Apparently so.  But whoa Uncle Sam did I get some nassssty things said about me.  On that blog.  On facebook.  AHHHH and such is the life of being able to say whatever you want to another person because this is all virtual.

Hey, at least I didn't try to disguise myself and comment as Anonymous.  Righteous.

I get by with a little help from my friends (followers?)

We all remember the days of celebrating when we'd have one more follower.  I remember clearly the day that I was up to my fourth follower and first random commenter.  I shouted for joy and told Mr Incredible (among others) and I quote: "A professional blogger commented!"  I'm realizing a year or so later that she wasn't "professional" she had a lot of followers.  Again, my mantra applies, tomato tomahto.
.....
Wait.  Who am I kidding?  I still wait for just one more follower.  And a different commenter.  Heck!  I even got an anonymous commenter the other day!  The only reason I was sad was because I wasn't verbally harassed by he she (it?).  And I'm still, STILL waiting for the day I get a Cambodian spammer in my comments section.  That's official like relationship status on facebook official.

But alas.

So I'm imploring your help.  Because when Jen says that she's blogging for her job (pffff) and Emcy asks "how do you have 104 followers?  Not that I care how many followers I have...*trailing off...* (pfff) and Rose is "online journaling" we all just know that they are new bloggers who haven't come to grips with Step 1: Admitting.  Admitting that we are powerless over our need to be noticed.  To have followers.

We all want to be leaders of a circus.  In our case, it's a virtual circus.  Which is pretty thought provoking.  Descartes, anyone?  (Rose?)

So I'm going to strongly advise you to go read their blogs and follow.  Follow.  Follow.  And I'm going to proudly list them on my blog roll under my (not yet existent) Friends and family Blogs.  I always thought those friend and family blogs were such a Below the Belt Move.  Like saying, "these are outrageously awesome blogs under 'My Faves,' but please excuse my Friends and Families' blogs."  Not so, friends.

I guarantee youll be slightly envious of their way with words.  Dormant Gloria Steinman?  Yes please.  Delightfully and maybe overeagerly assisting policemen (while describing her husband as having a 'clipped bark'?)  Uh thank you yes.  Chicken wings (too many?)?  Forgetting to  take out the garbage (again?)?  Now that is empathy at its finest.

what I wore wednesday didn't exactly pan out like planned

Finally after weeks of indecision, I decided that I wanted to be an active member of What I Wore Wednesday, over at Pleated Poppy.  Active as in 2:7 days.  As in I would not've been allowed to participate in any extracurricular activity in high school.  I'M SORRY LINDSEY CHENEY.

Actually, she should be apologizing to me because what the h, lindsey?  Where is What I Wore Wednesday!?!??!?!?!!??!  Turns out I'll have to do my own pitiful, pitiful, so so sad version of WIWW (<-- not world war 1 or 3).

Drumroll: (In other words I'm feeling narcissistic and embarrassed that I really think you care about my clothes.  I'M TRYING TO BLOG EVERYDAY HERE, PEOPLE.)

Tshirt: Jcrew (my friend thought it was a sparkly buffalo on it which made my sparkle love it)

camisole: gap

Jeans: Banana Republic (love because they fit perfectly, love more because they were $12)

Try one:

Try two:

Finally Mr Incredible came home:

shirt: BR

jeans: gap

shoes: awesome pumas

What I didn't wear Wednesday:

And since you waited all so patiently, I'll tell you where I got it.  A garage sale.  From h&m.  But a garage sale.  Did that change your minds?

We must rise as a nation and send them to meredith.

I'm stealing these family photos from her to make sure more people can appreciate this.  Because I'm crying laughing and beer literally just came out of my nose looking at these.  Meredith, thank you for the good word that you spread throughout the 'net.  I wouldn't have laughed yet tonight if it weren't for you.

BUT before you look try to think if you have any awkward family photos.  If you do, you too can be featured.  Send 'em.

now some of my own research:

google.  duh.

Blogs, we have a problem

I opted out of the blog roll scene for ohsay one week.  No bien.  I thought it would be a good idea because then I wouldn't have to weed out the blogs that I don't read every day, and I wouldn't have to show everyone what I was reading or not.

Instead my head turned into a fuddled mess every time I came on the computer.  "now which blogs was I hoping to read, again?"

So we're back.  And my blog roll is growing and growing and I love it and I'm overwhelmed.  And I'm not even done adding blogs.

Anyone else overwhelmed by this?  In other words, so many blogs, so little time.

Was it the chad?

I've lost a total of three (or was it four?) followers in the past 2 weeks.  I realize that people who "follow" don't necessarily read.  I also understand that people want to weed out the blogs that they don't actually read.  It doesn't make the sting go away though.

I've been thinking a lot about unfollowing blogs that I don't read.  I would rather not have a blog roll and instead have my own reliable list of blogs I enjoy.  After losing "so many" (<- relative) followers though, I'm not sure I want to put anyone else through the disappointment.  Frankly, it sucks.

So, was it the chad?

p90x Results

are not here.

They're here.  kinda.

Which is more important? my birthday or a GIVEAWAY?

Today is my birthday. 

More importantly, we have another giveaway!!!!

or should it read:  

Today is Friday, April 23rd and we have yet another giveaway.  How fun are these giveaways???

More importantly, it's my birthday.  ???

This day 1986 was a fine fine day when the angels sang and showered down love, beauty and sheer wit unto me to grace all of you.  My middle name is Grace for a reason, you know.  Instead of birth announcements, my parents sent out a Public Service Announcement.  They knew the world would have to be prepared for this.  

But enough about me, let's talk about gifts (for me).  I want more followers.  Mr Incredible has proven to be useless in that area.  You people are the next best thing to his commitment and undying faithfulness.  More followers, please.

But enough about me round two.  Let me give YOU more awesomeness:

Frickin how much do you love these prints?!  I died when I first laid eyes on Horatia.  Go check out Kirby's shop and tell me your favorite piece of art.  She's offering any one of her 4x6 prints to one of you lucky readers!  asd;lfk!

Leave a comment to enter.  Winner will be announced Thursday!

Giveaway winner!

Congratulation Salt! from Salt Says!  you've won yourself the Little Tiara artwork giveaway!  Email me you shtuff so I can pass it on to Little Tiara.

Thanks for playing!

Technicalities

Here's the dealyo.  I have more giveaways lined up!  Yay yay yes yes yes.

However:  I think I want to wait til I have 100 followers.  yes?  no?  Tell me your thoughts.

Another question:  for those of you who've done giveaways, where do you get a button on the blog to click on to link back to the giveaway?  I feel like a constant terrible nag having to remind everyone to enter in every post.

Edumucate me.

Wordless Wednesday circa 04

on a rainy, windy London day.  Ya know, because I go to London every now and again.

Why Am I Doing a Giveaway?

Good question.  I'm doing a giveaway because I feel like it.  I always thought it would be fun to do a giveaway.  Finally I put a little effort into it and it's happening!

But my excuse for the giveaway?  Well, it's Mr Incredible's birthday on Thursday.  Since I have no idea what to get him, I thought I would give my favorite virtual people ever a gift instead.  Oh, AND my birthday is in April.  So how fun will April be?  You betcha.  April showers (of gifts) bring May flowers (of your eternal love for me because I only host the COOLEST giveaways in town.)  

While you eagerly wait for April 1st (promise I won't fool you on the winner of the giveaway) I have to fill up the displayed posts with jibber jabber.  Why? (geez, you're all so full of whys)   Because I announced (for about 4 minutes) on MY facebook page that I have a blog AND left the link.  (I only invited certain real life facebook friends people to the Imp Dais' facebook fan page.)(Take note- Mr Incredible is a fan)(take note- he still has yet to comment.)

So anyway- Why is this a problem?  Because 1) I'm now in a very vulnerable position because now all my ex friends and ex boyfriends can read all my thoughts and letters to YOU, virtual friends. And more importantly 2) My p90freakinx pictures are slapping you in the face as soon as you enter my blog.  As if reading my thoughts are bad enough, they can see my Britney posed celeb shot THEN my tank top rolled up to show you that I've lost 10 pounds.  And may be getting abs, thankssomuchTony.  

Sorry I've been a wee snarky lately.  I'm actually really thrilled that more people are reading.  I just won't admit because I'M INSECURE.  there I said it.   

and don't forget to enter the giveaway

This is getting serious

Big things are happenin' around here, people.  First of all, Imp Dais has a facebook page.  Tell me that's not serious.  (look at the button on the side.  okay, look at both of them.  which do you like better?)  I'm thinking about sending out a page invite to all my Facebook friends but THAT is commitment.  And we know how I feel about commitment.  I'm facebook friends with ex boyfriends and people that I might like to trash talk at some point.  (relax, I'm kidding.)

BUT BUT BUT.  I've got a few giveaways under my belt.  So you just might want to let people know about this awesome blog and get ready to win free stuff.  Just because I love you.

Coffee and Baked Goods vs. p90x UPDATED*

Read even MORE detail over at Hutch's

this. 

not to be confused with 

this.

(tony horton- p90x man)

Read more over at Magnolias and Mimosas.  yes.

Not here. kinda. *UPDATED W PICS.

I'm over at Travis' of Fisher of Stories today.  I'm super excited to guest blog for him, though maybe a tad intimidated.  Go read (then follow) about my skiing trip last week, and all the wisdom that came along with it.

I'll post pics up here later of the festivities.

this pic does not do my dinner justice.  I'm telling you, it was huge.

our condo looked right out to the slopes.  ski in ski out condos.  with heated indoor outdoor pool.

hot tub.  outdoor pool just to the left.

right before skiing.

accurate enough.  

"I JUST WANT A GREEN CIRCLE.  NOT A BLUE SQUARE*."

*green circle= easiest.  Mr Incredible convinced me he was bringing me down a green circle, even though the sign was a blue square (more difficult, but still easy... for some)

showoff. 

last two pictures ,may or may not be us.  but close enough.