That'll Do, Blog. That'll Do.

Alright, bloggers. I can now sleep peacefully.

I'd say I'm pretty content with the ol' layout.

Well, minus the fact that:

- My videos STILL get chopped off.

- I have a visually unhappy follower. Jay, I'm sorry. I just can't make it white with black text. It's against everything I stand for. I tried, though. Really.

- I lost the photo's of my husband person and critters I'd uploaded waaaaaaay back when.

I'm just sucking it up, and calling it a done deal. I've tried other layouts, but they're just not neat and tidy like this one. I'm a creature of habit. What can I say?

Mimsy is back in business.

List Lust XI: Know What I'm Simply Mad About?

Hello Bloggy McBloggersons! For those of you who remember List Lust from waaaaay back when, you'll notice it's pretty much been abandoned. For any new readers (Hear that?! I have a few more faithful few! Squee!), you are about to witness the redemption of one of my deepest obsessive compulsive loves: Lists!

Today's list will pick back up where I left off, and teach you/remind you of a few possibly quirky/unimportant things about me.

List Lust XI: Know What I'm Simply Mad About?

1. Puppies & Puppy Breath (Bull Terriers are my favorite!)

2. Mr. Snuffleupagus & Those Big Soulful Eyes

3. Tall Frosty Glasses of Raspberry Lemonade

4. Almost Every Part Johnny Depp Has Played,

Along With His Sense of Style & Ridiculous Good Looks

5. Kermit, For All The Same Reasons As #4 :P

6. That I Can Get Away With Being Simply Mad About Two Muppets Without Blog Persecution.

7. Tim Burton's Brain (I figured a picture of Burton himself would suffice.)

8. Being Married To My Adorable Husband

9. Gustav Klimt's Artwork (This is my favorite of his pieces-Musique.)

10. God/Love (They're one and the same, in my opinion.)

Guess that's all for now. Better save some for another list. What are you simply mad about?

I Stress Over These Things

For your viewing pleasure...two very fun hand painted fleece scarves!

Side note: Fleece is evil, and rotary tools are the devil.

Christmas is creeping closer, and my crafting is almost complete! I can't wait until that bright and shining moment when everything is finished. I will mark the last name off my list and weep. Weep for joy, you hear?!

In an attempt to spare you from yet another "I'm overloaded and it's my own fault" post, I will be taking advantage of the fact that I've been tagged!

Ari tagged me to list seven random/quirky things about myself. So, with no further adieu.

1) My name is written on page 77 of every book I own-except my bible.
2) I have a tattoo of one of my drawings-a snail.
3) I used to play with the feathers in Stevie Ray Vaughan's hat when I was a baby. He and Lonnie Mack were friends of my Grandpa Jerry's.
4) Helena Bonham Carter is my girl crush.
5) Bunnies and otters make me cry.
6) I'm a non-alcoholic lush.
7) I had my nose broken with a baseball bat when I was little, and now I can pop it.

Alright folks. You're it: Ashley, Matt, Becca, Lauren or guest blogger(which I'm now counting as two), Andy, and The Dutchess!

* Link to your original tagger(s).
* Share seven facts about yourself in the post-some random, some weird.
* Tag seven people at the end of your post by leaving their names and the links to their blogs.
* Let them know they've been tagged by leaving a comment on their blogs/twitter.
* List these rules.

TRIUMPH

Okay. So, it's still rainy and hideous out of doors, but there is sunshine in my soul. I didn't even have to go 5 hours. My wonderful husband apologized, and it was sincere! Left to his own devices he came to the conclusion that he was a meanie head.

Now, onto something completely ridiculous.

Brothers right?

I'm telling you folks. All my love interests have something in common with Kermit. Odd? Maybe. I know plenty of women who'll back me up on this, though. So, maybe it's not so odd.

Unusual As Usual

Before I get started yammering, here's my newest creation. She's a variation of my owlie. I love her!

From now until Christmas I'm going to be sewing and knitting my fingers off. At some point this whole making people stuff for Christmas thing started getting out of hand, but it's worth it!

Okay. So, I like to celebrate unusual things. Random holidays for example. One of my favorites is this New Zealand holiday. Not that New Zealand holidays are unusual. They just qualify as unusual to me, seeing as I'm not a New Zealander.

In January I look forward to Dress Up Your Pet Day. It's January fourteenth and none of you should pass up this opportunity to pamper/humiliate the critters you love. The day after Christmas I'm going to start knitting this kitty hoodie. I know Kimchi will never forgive me, but I can't help myself. He'll just be so darn cute and cozy.

Today I want to celebrate my 105th post. Why I didn't feel as if I should celebrate the 100th, I'm not so sure.

Anyhow, I've been blathering for quite some time now and I just love it. Letting some of the nonsense in this head of mine out to play is a good thing. I thank anyone who has the attention span to muddle through it, and I love to read your comments. By "your" I mean my faithful few. You now who you are. THE ONLY ONES READING THIS.

I try not to compare Matt, Ben and Chris' gazillion comments to my two-maybe three? I'm going for quality not quantity here, people.

Oh, who am I kidding? I covet commentage! There! I've said it and I'm glad! Glad!

I will press forward undaunted.

*Sniff*

As if I too am a successful male blogger with an entourage of female followers.

*Sniff*

I will triumph!

Chunks of love to my loyal subjects. All three or four of you. One loves you. Kiss. Kiss.

TAX MAN!!!

Who here has seen Stranger Than Fiction? For those of you who haven't, make a point to see it, for me? Please. I love that movie! Not only is it an amazing piece of literature/cinematography, but it also paints a pretty accurate picture of a tax man.

Up until today I believed that only in this movie could a tax man become something other than an awkward, uptight wad of idiosyncrasies.

Today I met our new tax man. He's normal?! Wha?! Polite and personable?! No way! This guy was not in the least bit strange. On the surface he seems to be kosher, but we'll see. I'm still doubtful.

Last year I had to endure listening to a bagpipe version of Beach Boys Christmas songs while the odd little man sifted through mounds of paperwork. No. I'm not kidding. For THREE WHOLE DAYS I had to try not to laugh, and ultimately kill that greasy, shifty eyed tax man. I would run up to his lap top and turn down the music anytime he was away from it. Then he'd come back and mumble how strange it was that it kept turning itself down, and he'd turn it up even louder.

Here's to the slightest bit of normalcy in all auditors.

Quirkilicious

Slacking in the post department makes me sad, but I've been psychotically busy as of late. For those of you who've subjected yourselves to my incessant blathering before, you know this is self inflicted. Apparently I need to be so busy I can't see straight. Perhaps it's some sort of post traumatic art school disorder? Yes. Yes, I think that must be it.

So, I found inspiration over at Mega.Done.Discuss today. I thought it'd be a good idea to get this ball(or a variation of that ball) rolling. Here are some of my habits/quirks, strange though they may be.

1. I straighten things at grocery/department stores.
2. Since childhood I've had strange nightmares about Big Bird.
3. I'm a non-alcoholic lush.
4. I say "glorious" way too much.
5. I hate folding underwear!!!
6. Every book I own has my name written on page 77.
7. I enjoy waving and smiling at obviously angry drivers(because I know it really burns them up).
8. Whenever I see a baked potato I think of that Secret Agent Man song.
9. I hate the words: valley, package and moist.
10. Overwhelming guilt overtakes me when I think about having a kitty in the house, when my doggies live outside. :(

Now, if you've got something better to blog about go right ahead. If you don't? Get with it! Advertise those abnormalities.

Off Kilter

Just out of an obsessive compulsive need to post something I must blather. Today has been pretty much like the rest of this week. Insanely busy and a little numbing. I feel a little off kilter.

I hate funerals with a passion, but the one I went to yesterday wasn't as horrible as some. It was more comforting than most. I have a very strange way of dealing with loss. Not strange for me, but others usually find it a bit odd.

My Grandmother passed away a few years ago and I didn't tell a soul for over six months. Some people were a little angry with me, but that's how I roll. I go numb for a while. I don't choose to do it that way. My brain just tries to deny things for a while. I guess to keep me sane.

I blocked a lot of things out from childhood too. I was abused sexually for years, but had no clue. One day, when I was fourteen years old, I just remembered. It was like a nightmare, and then I realized it was a memory. Really weird.

The mind is an amazing thing. I think it's God's way of protecting us until we can deal with things. Hind sight or whatever.

Okay, that turned out gloomy.

Seemingly Perfect

Have you ever met one of those people that you love and want to kill at the same time? That's Cheryl-the chick that got married on Sunday. She's ridiculously inventive, sweet and beyond adorable. Just when I think I'm equally as awesome-she pulls out another stop.

The wedding was really beautiful and actually enjoyable! I normally hate weddings, but hers was the exception. It was outside of course, and the weather was perfect. The ceremony consisted of a million bright colors that shouldn't go together, but they did and it was gorgeous. It was also overflowing with adorable Philippino children, which can never be a bad thing. The cuteness was numbing.

The reception was even fun, and I don't drink. Good vegetarian food and stupid games that made people look like complete morons. A great spectator sport.

To top the whole thing off, she made her own wedding cake! It wasn't ghetto either. It was all home-made stripey tasty. It wasn't Ace of Cakes good, but it was decent. Just enough to be endearing, as usual.

So, yeah. My "I'm the bestest girly" syndrome causes me anguish. What about you? Hate any seemingly perfect people?

Cousin Johnny!

Often times I battle the thought that my mother is completely insane. Very often, actually. Sometimes she surprises me with shocking clarity, but other times...not-so-much.

Not long ago she caught a glimpse of a magazine I'd bought. Seeing a photo of a scruffy Johnny Depp-the reason I bought said magazine-she chuckled a little as she told me that he looked just like my father. To which I absent-mindedly told her to bite her tongue.

Blasphemy! The most attractive man on the planet looks like my alcoholic father?! What say you?!

She still insisted. She laughed and went on about how Mr. Depp is prettier, but that as he gets older he really looks like my Dad. Blah Blah Blah...

So, I was thinking she's forgotten what this old Dad o' mine looks like. Even though I must admit that I haven't seen much of him during my 26 years. Our estranged relationship continues, but I still think I remember what he looks like. For goodness sakes-this is my father we're talking about here-you crazy old coot!

Well, today, I see this photo.


Shut my mouth. At his fuzziest, he really does look like my father! I'm not sure if I should puke or not. I mean, they say girls are attracted to men like their fathers and all, but come on! If I had a digital photo of my Dad, I would SO show you, and you too could see the weirdness. Next time I'm in Kentucky or he's down here, I'll get one.

That's another thing(going out on a limb here-completely not possible).^__^ What if I've been madly in love with my Cousin Johnny all these years?! Since 21 Jump Street and Cry Baby?! The history of my Dad's side of the family hasn't exactly been made clear to me. All I know is I'm from Kentucky/Indiana/Florida, I'm part Cherokee and from a figuratively gypsy family.

John Christopher Depp II was born not too far from where I was-in Kentucky. He's part Cherokee, much like myself. And I can't prove it, but I think his family belonged to the same group of gypsies that mine did!!

The evidence is undeniable, my friends. Fortunately the fates have kept us apart, as not to allow the incest that inevitably would have come from our crossing paths.

Swing Away

Television is a one-eyed monster that will inevitably suck your brain out through your eyeballs. This has been my stance on the subject for quite a while now. I have a tendency to find most everything on television unworthy of my attention. We just don't watch much of it at my house, and that's just peachy with me.

Well, now I have apparently developed an unhealthy relationship with the crime channel, or whatever the heck it is. All those shows about deranged killers and psychopaths. You know the one.

It all started with severe cramps. I was dying on Monday and deemed it a sick day. I rolled out of bed around 10:30, got the heating pad, blanket, GINORMOUS glass of ice water, ibuprofen, one emergency loritab, my current book endeavor and headed for the futon. This would be my place of residence for the duration.

Reading was giving me a headache. So, I flipped on the TV. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Spongebob? No. Animal Planet. There you go. I watched some blue planet thing until a whale beached itself. I cried for the next 30 minutes and swore off Animal Planet.

I finally ended up watching some documentary type thing on this creepy Green River killer dude. Creepy. Unsettling. I want to change the channel, but I can't. It's riveting. Did he get caught? Is he EVER getting out? Who survived and how?

Show after show it's the same stuff. This guy murdered these people because of this. This group of morons got together and killed the whole neighborhood. There are too many evil people out there to comprehend, and you're basically a sitting duck.

Great! So, maybe via this strange interest I have developed, I'll avoid any demon spawn that may be in the vicinity. I don't know. What I do know is that my husband leaves the closet door cracked just a tad every morning, and when I step out of the shower it's the first thing I see.

I now have my Louisville Slugger hidden by the shower curtain.

With Wallpaper Like This...

Have a gander at that sexy wallpaper. Oh yeah. They don't just slap that up in any old nonprofit. Only the best of the best of the best, right? It makes me want to gag every morning. Along with the hunter green carpet.

Perhaps such lovely surroundings are the drive behind my need to make and surround myself in happy little things like this. I made this little guy a few months back. Although my gloriously fuzzy photography hinders you from recognizing this, it's an inscent burner.

There's nasty beadboard too. Not the nice, well balanced, obsessive compulsive beadboard. Eggshell cheapo beadboard! I try to hide it behind my paintings, and calendars and such, but resistance is futile. See?



Friends and fellow bloggers, today I ask you to observe your well maintained surroundings. The economy carpets, tiled floors and block walls. Then partake in a moment of silence, to consider those less fortunate than yourselves(I realize the blasphemy here and I'm just going to go with it).

Through some whacked out version of feng shui, I hope to survive such harsh surroundings. *sigh*

LAMEnting

Friday has finally arrived and what am I doing? Messing around on Myspace and blogging. Mind you, I'm not doing these things from home. I'm still cooped up at my office!

Why pray tell hasn't a freedom-seeking gal such as myself escaped the workplace yet you ask? Because I'm LAME. I wish it weren't so, but it is. I am currently undergoing some sort of strange coping behavior. Coping with the untimely death of my bunny, that is.

All of a sudden I can't be home without my husband, and since he works later than I do-here I sit. It's ridiculous! We cherish our personal time. It's when we, two completely opposite individuals, get to enjoy doing our own thing. I get to work on my paintings, drawings and such, and he works on his truck or fiddles with the lawn mower.

I hope this avoidance passes soon, and painlessly. I've cried enough.

Enjoy The Small Things

This morning I rolled into work a bit early, for a change. My husband had to take his truck for some brake work. So, we car pooled to my office. He left me stranded as he headed on to the arsenal, and here I am.

I really want to be creative and write something earth shattering for my two loyal subjects. I know they have something better to do, but they read my babbling instead. Thanks Ari and Matt. ^__^

Alas, I am all too tired to come up with anything grand. I'm not too tired to be entertained by the mundane, though.

I signed into my blogger thingy and noticed that the little tab at the top of the screen read, "seussy break-wind..."Perhaps I'm just sleepy, but I almost died laughing.

Thought I'd share. xoxo

Sleep Deprived Ranting

It's currently 7:35AM. I am tried, cranky, sore and itchy. Tired and cranky for obvious reasons, sore because I have a degenerative issue with the vertebra between my shoulder blades(T5-T8), and itchy because I have eczema that acts up when I'm stressed, and haven't had enough sleep. It's an incredibly vicious cycle. The back pain causes the stress and sleep deprivation, thus causing MORE itching. Plus I'm still a little peely from all the sun I subjected my shoulders to in Florida. Ugh.

Geesh. It all sounds a little worse when you lay it out like that. I'm not ALL THAT miserable, but it is unpleasant.

My back isn't always this bad. It's degenerative disc disease, and I inherited it from my father. Thanks Dad! Sometimes the most degenerated disc pops out under the pressure of the ones around it, which in turn pinches a nerve, causing pain and a numbing of the skin. It's weird and usually gets better after a couple of days of babying it. No heavy lifting, shoveling or mopping.

The itching is actually something I'm used to. It only does it when I'm stressed, and I don't get that way much. At least not since I graduated college. Now, if I have to do some sort of public speaking, sing at church, or play cards it's another story. My friends crack up when we play Dutch Blitz or Spades. What you can see of my neck and chest get all stripey and red. Everyone can tell when I have a bad hand. I hate losing, and the prospects of it make me nervous(cause I'm a dork!).

I also hate being without my Jeep. I took her Wednesday (a very fine day) to have her driver's side door maintenanced, and I still don't have her back yet. Apparently, my model 4X4 has issues with door hinges. I have a sneaking suspicion that the previous owner was a large one. I am by no means skinny, but I am not heavy enough to break a door off a vehicle! Besides, I don't have to lean on my door to get in my Jeep. It's not jacked up that high.

So, no Jeep. I did get to ride to work with my husband, which is nice. However, it's also part of the reason I'm ridiculously sleepy. He works about an hour away from my place of employment. Yeah, and I'll be here about an hour late too.

Thus, I am a sleepy not-in-the-least-bit-nice girl without a vehicle this morning. I know I'm still blessed with many glorious things, but I don't want to think about them right now. I'm "wollering" in my misfortune. How are you? ^__^

Tagged...

Ari tagged me to make a list, which I adore. However, it is a list of quirks. Six to be exact. This is going to involve an elimination process.

1.) I absolutely adore making lists! One down. Five to go.

2.) My toenails, at any given time, are most likely painted heather purple.


3.) I have frequent nightmares about living things being cut right down the middle!(Is this too weird to tell?! I can't help it. It's a dream!)It's horrifying, but not messy. I don't see it happen. I just find them in half! Last night it was my bunny-Pacha..very upsetting.


4.) I have a thing for otters. If I could be any animal-that's what I would be, and I would harass crocodiles on a daily basis, and sleep while holding hands.


5.) I say my favorite color is purple, but it's really green. I don't know why.


6.) I love shoulder blades...man shoulder blades. They're sexy.

Now that you have a mild idea of how strange I really am, will you still love me?!^__^

Things I Do Entirely Too Much

I have recently taken inventory of a few things I seem to be obsessed with. A seemingly healthy idea, unless you start getting neurotic over that too. ^__^

A.) WASHING HANDS

I wash my hands WHENEVER there is a sink available, and I'm not talking a quick rendezvous with the soap-wham bam thank you ma'am. I mean-surgical scrub! Seriously. Example: Waiting in the doctor/dentist's office, I silently excuse myself to the restroom, ONLY TO WASH MY HANDS! No powdering!!! ONLY WASHING!!! Now, I don't do this repeatedly mind you. If it is o.c.d., it's a mild case...right?

B.) DISINFECTING

Every time I visit the little girls' room at my office, I Lysol the joint. I don't mean just the necessary germ-killing deeds. I have to spray the door knob, toilet paper dispenser, light switch, sink and garbage can. E-V-E-R-Y-T-I-M-E!! Is that "normal" ???

I think that's all the dysfunction I shall share today. Toodle-pip!

It's Not The Same...Is It?

Why is it that I find it perfectly harmless for a woman to be blown completely away by the overwhelmingly good looks of say, Christian Bale or Johnny Depp (to the point of sighing), yet I feel morally justified in raking my husband over hot coals for even looking like he might enjoy a shot of Angelina Jolie-Pitt? Mind you, I don't. I just feel like it.

I know it's only natural to be stunned by the ridiculous aesthetic goodness of some members of the opposite sex, but is it less sexual when a woman does it? I believe it is. What do you think?

In my understanding of men-they are a lot more visual than women. Therefore-when I drool over Johnny Depp-it's because of his voice, eyes and oh my goodness he's just so gloriously quirky and Byronic. I'm not undressing him with my eyes, nor am I thinking about anything I shouldn't be, as a happily married woman. Men, on the other hand, don't even HAVE to bother with undressing the women in the media, because they're usually practically naked already!

Is that what bugs me? Is it what bugs you? Am I the only one feeling the confusion and insecurities drudged up by this subject? It's the same, but it isn't. Arrgghh.

One-ah-ah-ah...Two-ah-ah-ah...

I can remember the warm Kentucky summer, riding my bike down Sycamore Hill, the hot air in my face, the smell of honey suckle and the sound of cars zipping by on the nearby highway. I fought my way up that unending hill, walking beside the bike that my little legs could not power to the top. Once I'd overcome that climb, I let gravity do it's job. I bet I was going 30 mph by the time I reached the bottom, and went tumbling over my handle bars, face-first into the gravel. Then I remember not riding the huffy for a while. That July I spent what seemed like an eternity in our little cave-like trailer.

At the age of six, keeping yourself busy IN the house can become quite harmful to your health. I had a teenage sister that I was sure wanted me dead. I came dragging through the front door after "the accident," carrying my bike, sniffling and spitting gravel. Seeing I wasn't going to get much compassion from the dirty blond on the phone, I began to cry. She attempted to clean me up and fix the problem by giving me some iced tea and crackers. All of which only reminded me of how painful my bloody gums were. Mom was at work and my sister would have to sustain life until she returned. My situation was seeming very grim.

Nintendo would be the way to go. Stay still, out of my sister's hair and keep my mind off my scabby knees and aching lips, nose and gums. I played Mario Brothers and Lo lo until I regained the gumption to get back on that bicycle, which would be quite a few days. So, Princess here I came.

I played so much over the next couple of days that at night I would dream of Mario Brothers. I kept this to myself, until it turned ugly. Giant flashing numbers had begun to chase me, and try to kill me! It was like a game and I was losing. I remember the infamous running to no avail to escape being accosted by the number five. My nightmares finally got the best of me and I went screaming into my mothers room, explaining the flashing and how huge the numbers were. I described it the best way my little vocabulary would allow, "I was little like Mario on the TV."

This ended up at the doctor's office. My mother explaining the flashing nightmares, and how she had heard on the news about Japanese children developing epilepsy from games. I, obviously too small to comprehend their discussion, flipped through the bible books in the corner. Thus, I was back on my bike that afternoon and Nintendo playing was kept to a minimum. The nightmares didn't stop for a while though.

I later learned that I had something called numeriphobia-a fear of numbers. Seriously, it's a phobia and that's the technical term. The dreams just so happened to coincide with learning addition and subtraction with flashcards at Parkhill Elementary School.

I never have been good at math, and I've ALWAYS hated the Count on Sesame Street.
One-ah-ah-ah...Two-ah-ah-ah... ^__^

Johnny Depp & Kermit

I've asked this before and I'll ask it again! Can anyone tell me, beyond the obvious physical/mental attraction, why I'm head over heals for these two? They're both twice my age, one's married with children and I'm HAPPILY MARRIED!! Why can't I move on?!