Posts Tagged ‘moan’

How Do I Hate Thee? Let me count the ways…

Monday, November 22nd, 2010

I hate the way you give me anxiety bordering on a breakout of hives.

I hate the way you’ve made me call the heavily accented lady at the help desk (is she the only one who answers or is it just fate giving me her each time???) three times before noon with my stupid questions.

I hate that even if I put in my best effort, I’m not entirely sure I’m going to build a website that’s anything more than the equivalent of a messy crayon drawing obviously done by a slow child.

I hate that real experts cost thousands and thousands of dollars and often don’t deliver that much more than what I could have cobbled together myself and  yet leaves me feeling totally dependent on them should catastrophe strike.

No amount of Joomla! books will bring me comfort...unless it turns out a web designer comes with them.

I hate that it’s snowing (not your fault, but maybe it is in some kind of extended global warming sort of way.)

I hate that I keep wishing I was rich and could make this somebody else’s problem.

I hate that of I’m the ‘technically savvy’ half of the new business venture I’m part of, because that basically means we’re doomed, at least technically speaking.

I hate that it’s 1pm, and I’m still in my bathrobe, and I’ve already cried twice, and I’ve done nothing for three hours but work on setting up this website and ultimately achieved what an expert probably would have pulled off in fifteen minutes.

I hate celery.

I hate waiting in long lines.

I hate shoveling.

I hate feeling incompetent.

I hate being stuck: literally, figuratively, and metaphorically.

I hate waiting.

I hate not knowing.

I hate how I get in my own way.

I hate whiners.

I hate that I’m whining.

And yet…oddly enough…I actually feel rather better, so I suppose I’ll stop my whining now and knock off a few other items on the to do list, and wait to see if the DNS server changes I made were actually done correctly. And, with any luck, I’ll continue my tortoise and the hare (me being the tortoise) progress and have something to show you in a few days.

Slow and steady wins the race, right?

We shall see…

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Just the Way You Are

Saturday, November 6th, 2010

So I’m a girl.

Billy Joel: The StrangerThus, it’s a given that I would get  all smooshy over the lyrics  to Billy Joel’s “Just The Way You Are” and now Bruno Mars’ completely unrelated, but identically named “Just the Way You Are Are” for entirely different, yet similarly pathetic reasons.

Immature love:

“And when you smile, the whole world stops and stares for awhile

Cause girl you’re amazing just the way you are.”

Versus seemingly more mature love, yet probably equally doomed love:

“I wouldn’t leave you in times of trouble

We never could have come this far

I took the good times, I’ll take the bad times

I’ll take you just the way you are.”

Bruno MarsIf there really is such a thing as love, I vote for the latter. Personally, I’d rather be loved for being me than for the way my nails are painted.  But hey…

In other news, I really labored over the title of this post and thus, directly or unintenttionally or some such thing, drug out its eventual publication. I started with “A stitch in time saves nine” but that has nothing to do with anything. Then I went to the pun “Sew adorable”…but I hate puns. I won’t bore you with the iterations in between except to say that they were so bad that I was relieved to be moved by the dumbass scenario above, and thus conjure my final main subject matter and related title.

Nonetheless, and in conclusion, and in other news, I need someone to make me a dress. I have a good  friend who makes clothes and sells them on Etsy (you know who you are), and I may have to call you out literally (or just pick up the phone and call you) because I WANT THIS DRESS.

I want the one on the left with the turquoise top. LOVE.

Not this short, necessarily, and definitely not with the strange hairdo, but otherwise: exactly.

I actually want this dress enough that I have vaguely considered pulling out my own sewing machine and ruining several pieces of cheap jersey until I figure out how to make this. And that’s scary talk, because (minus a period where I made hats and sold them at Grateful Dead concerts: don’t ask) I don’t really know how to sew.

I wish I did.

I LOVE clothes.

And I love to save money.

And I love variety.

And I could combine  all three passions into one happy experience if I knew how to sew, but it’s not exactly like (searching in my mind something simple that anyone can just pick up and do expertly. Ummmm….) chewing gum. You need some schooling and some skill and some inside tips and tricks or it ends up looking like something you made yourself, which is never good. I remember when I was a little girl we made a wrap skirt in Girl Scouts and for some reason I had this hideous dark green wool material (compared with denims and flowered cottons brought by the other girls) and although the skirt worked out, it was butt ugly and (in my opinion) looked homemade. It also had a bad habit of coming open in a most unladylike way, which was probably my guardian angel’s attempt to prevent me from wearing it in public.

As if the green wool wasn’t enough.

Too bad it wasn’t…. (coming open either…)

Thinking of going with the curl instead of fighting it.

In other news, as long as I’m sharing boring things, I have a haircut Monday, and I’m thinking about giving in and going with the curl. And sticking with a more natural color (i.e. kind of like her color). Admittedly, I won’t be able to pull it back or put it into a ponytail or wear it the way it currently is 99% of the time, but I also do that because I’m not super thrilled with it right now anyway.

So there you go: I love this dress and I may cut my hair shorter still.

Exciting times.

Best of times.

Worst of times.

Boringist of times.

Some rain, some shine.

It was the age of wisdom,

It was the age of foolishness,

It was the epoch of belief.

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