OK... Im back.... Nine new things...

A general announcement to the people who care about me... I have finally started rehab and I think its a positive thing in my life. I am finally ready to admit I have a problem and cut back on my addiction and hopefully it will lead to me being productive again and get me back to the important things like this blog. And to the people who made it so easy for me to be easy distracted and allowed me to lose myself to this hideous addiction I can only say... shame on you!

In fairness, and in my defense, I didn't see it coming. It snuck up on me. Silent. Stealthy. And consumed me to the point of sleeplessness! Anyone who has faced this situation knows what I am talking about. I have sought out professional help prior to now but perhaps until now I didnt really WANT help.... I mean it always made me feel good and who was I really hurting? But today... today.... I have finally walked out of the fog and made a decision... I will no longer be a slave to MySpace!

And so I pledge the following Nine Things:

1. I will limit myself to updating photos once a week.... unless I catch Marley in some ubercute puppy pose which, of course, everyone needs to see right away!

2. I will check my messages only once or twice a day instead of every hour... on the hour.... for 45 minutes at a time.

3. I will NOT respond to EVERY survey that I get unless its REALLY important stuff like "who was your last text message from" or "what's your favourite colour".

4. I will stop logging on to see if any one who works for me is also logged on while they are suppose to be working.

5. I will stop looking for just the right smiley icon to indicate my mood -- besides they dont have enough choices anyway... like where are "quirky", "underwhelmed", "perky" and "oddly superior"??

6. I will stop searching for the right pimped out, glittery backgrounds to define who I am... obviously a quirky, perky underwhelmed yet oddly superior goddess. There just isn't enough glitter out there.

7. I will stop sending "comments" to people who are actually in the next room (Krista), people that I text message all day (Rach) or people that I would love to hear on the phone (Jules).

8. I will stop replying to "friend requests" that are from people in Bumpkiss, NV who just want to share a secret way to make me rich. I think it's possible that they don't really have my best interests in mind.

9. And I will stop stressing over who's feelings will be hurt if they are not in my Top 10 Friends list.... and I will stop wondering why I am not in their Top 10 Friends list either even though I am certain that I am a much better friend then the 10 people already listed there.

And so there it is... my plan to regain snippets of my life and get back to blogging!! Hmmm.... of course.... I just realized... I will have to go on MySpace and post a bulletin to let all my friends know that I am blogging again... and I might as well check my comments while I am there....and post that last picture I found of us dressed like pirates... and it would be kind of impolite not to answer Misty's survey....

Damn you, MyCrackSpace!!

A joke from Jules...

What did we ever do before the technology to get jokes daily from our friends in Georgia was available? This joke arrived in my inbox today and made me laugh, and while I have already forwarded it to most of you who read this, I didn't want anyone to feel left out. Besides I am suffering a severe case of Blog Clog caused mainly by trying to remember who reads this and deciding what I can say with out giving away secrets causing parental embarrassment, relationship failures or breaches of national security.

A male patient is lying in bed in the hospital, wearing an oxygen mask over his mouth and nose, still heavily sedated from a difficult four hour, surgical procedure.

A young, student nurse appears to give him a partial sponge bath. Nurse", he mumbles, from behind the mask. "Are my testicles black?" Embarrassed, the young nurse replies, "I don't know, Sir. I'm only here to wash your upper body and feet."

He struggles to ask again, "Nurse, are my testicles black?" Concerned that he may elevate his vitals from worry about his testicles, she overcomes her embarrassment and sheepishly pulls back the covers. She raises his gown, holds his penis in one hand and his testicles in the other, lifting and moving them around.

Then, she takes a close look and says, "There's nothing wrong with them, Sir!!"

The man pulls off his oxygen mask, smiles at her and says very slowly, "Thank you very much. That was wonderful, but, listen very, very closely...

A r e - m y - t e s t - r e s u l t s - b a c k?"


Thanks for the giggle, Jules!

Arrgghhh!

In my eternal search for the real me, I have stumbled on a few interesting alter egos. The latest was a pirate wench, which, if you know me at all, is not that far a stretch. This picture is of me (with fake hair, of course, but authentic wench cleavage) and the other two Lushkateers: Jules (surprisingly not in costume) and Rach (who was a hoochie pirate). It was taken at the annual Blackbeard Festival in Downtown Hampton which is not as much to celebrate the history of pirates but more of an excuse for otherwise normal adults to dress up and drink copious amounts of grog.

My pirate crew (which included a piratized Hockey Boy even though it was Game 3 of the Stanley Cup) decided to skip the Grand Pirates Ball which is both hoyty and toyty. We opted to do the two things pirates do best: hang around the docks and drink rum. Apparently it is also appropriate for pirates to do jello shooters though I don't recall reading that in the history books. There was lots of "arrrgghh"-ing but minimal pillaging and almost no plundering.

As the evening wore on and the rum bottles emptied ("Why is the rum always gone?"), the dock party moved inland for our own safety. Saturdays Downtown the main street is cordoned off for the block party and there are at least 4 bands. Little known fact: Pirates LOVE live music and drunk pirates LOVE dancing to live music. I have pictures to prove this but they are not pretty and are currently locked in a vault in case Rach ever decides to run for public office. Hockey Boy found a TV showing the game and I found a bartender who believed my theory that pirates love Cosmos. Jules remembered why she doesn't come home from Georgia as often as we'd like.

Alas, even a pirate has to call it a day at some point and, in the misty early morning hours, a certain pirate wench and her Hockey Pirate could be seen following their own verson of a treasure map back home. It was time to de-pirate and pack it all away until next year. As far as my alter-egos go, Pirate Wench may well be one of my favourites. Afterall, I'm a girl who likes a little booty.

BONUS: Go to www.piratequiz.com to find out your pirate name!