I should start by saying that I track the IP addresses of everyone who visits my blog. Not all obsessive-like or anything, but more for curiosity’s sake than anything else. I don’t really look at them unless I have a day where I have 10 times as many hits as I normally would – then I check out to see where the hits are coming from globally.
I have been getting quite a few hits from France lately. What’s up France? Am I listed in a magazine over there or something?
1. What were my niece and nephew for Halloween?
That’s right – PEAS AND CARROTS! Best costumes ever!
2. Eric walked in on me using an elliptical trainer and eating an ice cream cone at the same time. He called me an “Enigma” for the rest of the day.
What?! Sometimes a lady just feels like being counter-productive.
3. I want to make T-shirts and sell them on this blog. They would say in really large letters “Enna Stein” and have my picture, and then under that it would have my obituary. That way, if I ever ran into one of my readers on the street I would have a legitimate reason to run away from them screaming. Currently my only reason is that I am anti-social and a bit of an asshole.
4. I threw up in storm trooper helmet once at a conference. SCORE ONE FOR THE REBEL ALLIANCE!
5. I made my Christmas list while drunk the other day. I will not lie – it included a used prosthetic leg. I wrote notes to myself next to it “Use this to store gold. Or umbrellas!” The very next thing I wrote on my list was “old timey umbrella.”
How would one go about getting a used prosthetic leg, I wonder?
Well, that’s it for me. Time for bed, and by bed I mean “searching ebay for a prosthetic leg.”
This woman just summed up my entire diet.
She does exactly what I do. Megan honey, you are starting to freak me out.
Also, Secret Diary of a Call Girl is a GREAT show!
NaNoWrMo is kicking my ASS folks. Are you doing this as well? If so YOU MUST BE INSANE, because I feel INSANE. Insane meaning “I am a fucking idiot for doing this. Why the hell did I agree to this? WHAT IS WRONG WITH ME THAT I HATE MYSELF THIS MUCH THAT I AGREED TO DO THIS?!” Or, you know, something along those line.
Dear Facebook,
Please stop trying to peer pressure me into being social. I know, you are only trying to be helpful. I don’t care. It comes off as peer pressure.
For instance, you keep telling me to write on my mother’s wall. “Help make Maman’s Facebook experience better.” Really? Now I have TWO OF YOU guilting me into calling my mother? That ain’t right, Facebook.
And let me tell you – I do not like this new feed. I just don’t. I am sorry. I tried. I gave it a week. I could care less for it. For instance, you say this new feed is supposed to be “items I would find interesting.” REALLY? It’s not. I do not need to see people’s Mafia Wars updates, nor do I need to see somebody’s 450+ pictures of their kid’s Halloween costumes (pictures from EVERY ANGLE, thank you.) but I would want to see pictures of my niece and nephew’s Halloween costumes. But do you show me that? NOPE. I get Mafia wars.
Basically, what I am trying to say here Facebook, is I am pretty drunk, and therefore belligerent. Change it back already.
Sincerely,
Enna
PS GIVE US A DISLIKE BUTTON ALREADY. I need to acknowledge my friend’s emo status updates but without actually going so far as expend the effort to actually make a comment.
_____________________________________________
On a completely unrelated note, this is the greatest booze I have had in a very long time. I should make a column in which I review booze while intoxicated. I should call it “From My Liver to Yours.”
Yessssssssssss. This needs to happen.
If you know me in real life – please read this. Shit, print that out and put it on your fridge.
And now, for a conversation between myself and my (new) doctor:
Doctor: “You have a very good family medical history. Um, are you sure you’re not adopted?”
Me: “No, we’re sure. I am just what’s known in nature as ‘the runt.’ If we were in the animal kingdom, my family would have left me to die right after birth.”
Doctor: “Wow. Just…wow.”
I can tell this is going to be the beginning of a beautiful relationship.
I really like NPR. I specifically like Wait, Wait Don’t Tell Me and This American Life. I want to be on This American Life.
No, seriously, I know what I will say when I get on it.
And I have always wanted to work for NPR. I know, as a little girl I had really boring dreams.
ANYWAY, I started a blog to try to get myself onto This American Life. It’s called Letters to Ira Glass. It will be updated every day (until I get bored and give up. Or I get to appear on TAL, whichever comes first.)
My fiance Eric’s Facebook page, after he worked all night and slept during the day. It will explain why he is cranky today:
The fact that Eric and Joe Biden are friends should be enough of a joke in itself!
My sister Leah opened a book store, and you can become a fan of her store by becoming a fan on Facebook:
Old Towne Books and Tea
Promote Your Page Too
Feel free to stop in, ask her if I am as crazy as I appear on the internet (her answer “she’s a flipping lunatic.”) and BUY SOMETHING!
Thank you!
