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Bad Marketing

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The more I think about what I want to do with myself I think about what I’ve done. I’ve been blogging badly for four years now. It didn’t make me famous. I’ve been running around on the internet looking for ways to think of a next big something. I’ve written books I’m too chicken to show anyone (that’s where all the chicken references come from in case that made no sense).

My sales pitch might be the problem. “Tastes like chicken” might not be the most thoughtful tagline. I’ve been thinking about what to put on my resume for how lazy I’ve been the last three years – I never thought “housewife” could be me until I watched those Bravo shows and realized you don’t need to do crap to be called a “housewife”. We joked about getting business cards- Realtors keep asking MK for one and we both laugh. What we he do with those? Build card towers? It would have his name and email, which is his name. And maybe his phone number, which ironically is also his name.

from toothpastefordinner.com

from toothpastefordinner.com

Can you tagline yourself? What would your tagline be? “Hard worker”? “Mother of 18”? “Boisterous”? “Business oriented with a goal of success and growth in an emerging new media industry”? Tell me in the comments.

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Good Better Best

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How many people in your life make you want to be a better person? Too often, I think, I get in a rut of behavior and don’t spend a lot of time thinking about what the future could hold, what is most important to me in life. We play and goof off and enjoy the present – which I think is totally acceptable – but we also let go of a lot in order to have that fun.

MK and I have made a ton of friends here that are bar buddies. You totally need those friends, but those friends don’t fly to visit you and make you think about your life. They will show up for the Inner2bapalooza, but they’ll get drunk and make you lose your husband. They won’t understand when that bothers you like a good friend will. But a good friend will also tell you when to get over it sometimes. We left so many of those friends behind when we left Austin, and that’s no fun.

For all that and more – hanging out with my friends, talking me through my issues, and just being such a cool person I can’t be happier we met – I totally wasn’t surprised when I had the uncontrollable out of nowhere sniffles after I put KD on the plane. She was probably ready to go – but I wasn’t ready to let her! Thank you, lady, for being so incredible!

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Just Go With It

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Recently (go find it) I twittered about the awesomeness coming this weekend, Inner2bapalooza.

UPDATED TO ADD: see comments for the video!

fives.jpg#107

The Five Paragraphs Of The Best Mass Email Ever:

  1. With attendance reaching over 1000 strong, this years INNER2BAPALOOZA should prove to be San Diego’s finest moment in debauchery.  In order to ensure your supreme pleasure in floatation, we at TFE have put together a solid list of “Do Bring” and “Don’t Brings” for this Saturday.
  2. Do Bring:   flotation device, beer beer and MORE beer, bags of ice, coolers, costumes, wigs, air horns, coors light girls, swell attitude, midgets with chips and salsa hats, pasties, short shorts, sunscreen, mullets, jack daniels (please), edible underwear, bar-tending Michael Phelps, hovercrafts, aircraft carriers, singing hippopotamuses, beer bongs, loose hippy chicks, filet mignon, ID’s to verify your age(might be very important!!!@%^@&), Megan Fox sans weird boyfriend, strong will to live
  3. Don’t Bring:   shark chum, working toasters, cement shoes, barking spiders, Greg Louganis, yellow number 5, aquaphobia, blow fish mittens, bad weather, Hanz Brix
  4. KEY ANNOUNCMENT:  The King and Queenapalooza –  As for the Annual King and Queen of Innertubapalooza nominations, all outfits(or lack thereof), Full Extensions, pelvic vibrations, wild animals stolen from the San Diego Zoo, blow up dolls, and overall weird gestures will be taken into account.  Pretty much if you want the world’s most prestigious sauce monster trophy, you need to bring your A-game, be jacked up on PCP, and pour booze on yourself all day long while celebrating like it’s a mixture of New Years, the 4th of July, and Summerpalooza(oh wait it is Summerpalooza-what?).
  5. Itinerary:
    12:00 – start to arrive at Sail Bay (see map on site)
    1:00 – celebratory Extension to kick off event
    2:30 – Mariachi Nuevo California arrives via pontoon boat and seduces the crowd with loud latin yelps, unkept mustaches, smiling gold teeth, and tequila dragon breath
    4:00 – Blue Angels fly by, Jennifer Hudson national anthem, Blue Man Group drum circle, the Kraken resurfaces after 2000 years of solitude and starts handing out shots of Rumplemintz
    6:00 – The White House calls declaring INNERTUBAPALOOZA a National Holiday and invites Kraken over to discuss healthcare reform
    7:00 – ^%)*$#%)#*@_!!

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Unknown's avatar

Healthy Living Is Overrated

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We had a big beach volleyball party last Sunday. A too big party, really. And we partied and stayed up past our (MK’s) bedtime. I got a little grounded for not having sympathy when he didn’t put himself to bed. So as punishment I had a self imposed week of clean living. Just to prove I could do it. And I did do it. But I think it’s totally lame.

I got up at between 5 and 7 every day this week – usually (my honesty embarrasses me) I get up around 8 or 9. I worked out all week – which I haven’t done in forever. I stayed sober all week (again, that honesty thing).  I cleaned house, read books, didn’t even get too much sun. We went out to dinner only once. We stayed in at night besdies volleyball night and even then left early and kept it very low key.

All it did was water weight bloat me and make me irritable. And crabby. I didn’t feel like myself at all. Some people might get better from a ‘cleanse’/detox period, I think I crashed and burned. I mean, really, I’ve gotten so used to my night owl hours and way of life the change did not do me well. I got told at volleyball last night I am super-no-fun-pants when I’m there sober. I agree.

Thank goodness KD is coming this weekend to get me back to my old self!

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Blog Block

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Sometimes I sit down so worked up I can’t spew the thoughts out of my fingers fast enough. My spelling and grammar – okay, and content – usually sucks and comes out nothing like I was thinking when I began.

But of course there are times when I have nothing to say. If the days are quiet and I’m not in the middle of any crazy adventure, I try to tell a story. You might have noticed lately I’ve had a few posts categorized “Reminiscing”.

Many bloggers turn to lists of suggestions if they are stumped for a topic.

Here’s an extensive one – go ahead, take a look.

And here’s a cute answer-y type one – of sillier things.

Tutorial? Niche? Event commentary? Thank goodness I don’t know how to DO anything. I’m usually trying to be funny and failing and that is a full time occupation! I wouldn’t even know where to start with these lists that I found today.

So here’s MY thought ( okay, it’s #17 on the long list, sort of):

Let me know if YOU want to volunteer to do a post for SomeGoSoftly sometime – I just gave you 151 150 ideas! 😉

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Real (Pain) Estate

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For a while there when we lived in Austin nothing was more fun than looking at houses. MK had a Real Estate license, we had two other couples that would join us – looking for all three families, and when MK was making more money we were imagining paying top dollar for giant houses on acres of land. There was no limit to the time we’d spend out on weekends checking out 3000 square foot and above homes debating whether a pool or a four car garage was more important. We must have gone in every house that was for sale over a period of a few months.

We looked far and wide and realized that although we weren’t sure what we wanted, we weren’t finding it. Thus began our attempt to find what was missing by trying new cities. We drove around Seattle occasionally but didn’t really think it was for us either. The first time we were in San Diego we browsed the internet and learned that living in the greatest place on earth comes at a premium. So in Park City the idea came to us to find a house there to settle in and continue to live the beach lifestyle that we love by renting. I’m a big fan of this one. MK might have forgotten it.

Lately MK’s gotten the idea in his head that we need to buy something in San Diego. I’m not sure what this is all about. But after the time that has passed and the price difference from what we saw in Austin and what that computes to here – I’m so over it. For a ton more money, we’re reduced to condos and forclosure houses. Miserable ones. It stopped being fun when the questions now are like “Where would we take the laundry?” and “Think duct tape could fix that?”.

It’s not exactly like we think we deserve a house like this (no, really – click the link and look at that place) but something liveable would be nice. I hope MK gets over this silly idea instead of putting us in the wrong place!

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Making Neighbors Fans

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Fans fits better than ‘friends’…

fives.jpg#106

Five Easiest Ways to Get in Good With The Condo Owners While Throwing A Party:

  1. Compliment their grandchildren.
  2. Share the food.
  3. Share the sweet tea vodka and lemonade.
  4. Shoosh your friends at least once for show.
  5. Share the rest of the sweet tea vodka and lemonade.

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Wedding Bells And Jailbirds

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There were a lot of really hilarious things that happened during the week of my wedding. I was a nut, my MIL was a nut, my BFF had SHEARS in her purse to deal with the nuttiness. My husband helped decorate the reception. My mom had the first drink of booze I’ve ever seen her take – and would kill me if I told you all how THAT ended.

But there’s another story that I forget way too easily until this week, when it was RB’s birthday and we were catching up. I decided to be nice and not make fun of him on his Facebook, but really wanted to tell this story: I think here is safe.

We invited everyone that was visiting from out of town to come to our rehearsal dinner, family or friends, to be able to spend more time with everyone. Pretty much only family and wedding party was there. RB showed up late, had some wine, and toasted us after the family thought the toasts were over. It was, of course, hilarious. He’s our Jack Black – full of funny – good times guy.

After our dinner, we went out to 6th street. RB was catching up with some buddies and we bar hopped and ended up at Casino El Camino, if I remember correctly. So many people were so excited to see him he had shot after shot poured down his throat. MK and I headed home for our big next few days and the friends stayed out. KD offered RB a couch so we figured he was fine.

The next day was all about wedding things and I gave no thought to anything but the tasks at hand. There was so much going on so fast and it was all a blur until about 9pm or so after dinner and some dancing and some drinks, and we were talking to RD – who realized RB was no where to be found. “He’s probably in jail,” we laughed. “He had a lot to drink.”

No one thought he’d miss the wedding, but the night went on and he didn’t show. The day or two after that, we found out he did, indeed, go to jail. And missed his flight home. And couldn’t call any of us, didn’t know our numbers, had to call his Dad, and had to deal with so many reprecussions I almost felt bad for getting married.

You might think jail is a seroiusly unfunny matter, but every time I remember that I forgot that this even happened, I crack up. It’s terrible, I know.

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Repeated Disappointment

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The reason I asked about the face issue was totally that we were going glasses shopping. And we went. And MK still only looks good in bland wire frames. I was hoping we’d discover some new daring style he could take on. I still look totally lame in glasses period. Or, PERIOD.

We both have awful sleep schedules and stay out too late for our own good. We both agree if we could just be comfy wearing our glasses out it would solve half of the bailing early we do. My eyes get sensitive if I’m out in the sun all day, which we usually are. Solution: glasses in public. Problem: what we look like in glasses.

Every four years or so this lame cycle repeats itself (this started when I was 9 or so, people) where I go hoping to find something decent only to be reminded my face looks retarded with glasses. Not only that, but any frame that might look nice will suck once you put my coke-bottle lenses in.

just not hot

just not hot

The lady today suggested that the rectangular frames that look halfway decent on my face were the problem because somehow they make the lenses fit by making them fatter. So I need glasses that are kinda round or at least go up on the bottom corners. There goes any hope I had of looking stylish. But hey, maybe I won’t look geeky?
cool but not allowed

cool but not allowed

Scratch that. I look even worse that possible in the frames that are oval or round or rectangular with an arch at the bottom. Sucky.

meh

So there that goes. I didn’t buy anything. I hate the glasses that I have now, even though I thought they were okay when I got them…  so the problem remains. I’m going to try one more super high end store – for sure some name brand on the side will hide the fact that I look terrible in them – and if I can’t afford them I’ll look on eBay. Chances are I might just give up and go for broke: