Ever have one of those days where nothing seems to go your way? You just can’t please anyone and feel as though everyone is on the defensive? Ever just feel like hiding under your blankets in hopes that everyone would just disappear? Feel like whenever you open your mouth someone gets upset because your tone is misunderstood for mad rather then sad, lonely or moody.

It’s one of those days for me.

I feel sad because I unintentionally hurt a friend with my moody attitude, not knowing that she, herself, was having a crap day. Now I feel guilty because I hurt a friend.

I want my bed.

I’m headed down Shit Creek and I can’t seem to find my paddle.

I finally announced to my coworkers that I am expecting. It feels like a weight has been lifted, even though I still don’t understand why sharing that news with fellow employees is so hard.

I had a prenatal appointment yesterday, everything’s great. Except my iron is low (like always) which is probably what’s increasing my fatigue, so now I have MORE pills to take. I’m like a friggin’ walking pharmacy these days. I’m going to need a weekly pill reminder soon. Like my grandparents, who spend their Sunday evening preparing their pill reminders for the week ahead.

Good times.

And now Mike just called to say that he has to stay out of town this evening because the weather is so bad where he is.

Craptacular crap just keeps getting better.

I’m such a downer, I applaud you for making it this far.

For those that made it this far, this is for you:

I wanted to share the link with you, but I can’t because it’s made to watch only once and then it self destructs. Seriously. If you’re a Criss Angel fan (like me and her) then you’ll probably enjoy this - even if it’s just another opportunity to stare at him.

Go to Freak Your Mind and enter the information requested… just make it about you instead of a friend (its more fun that way). Then, pick the copy the link and put it into your browser.

I’ve done it about 5 times so I can hear him say my name.

My latest confessed crush has turned into an obsession.

Yes, Criss Angel ladies and gentlemen.

And, with my past confession post, comments from the older crowd (please, you know I don’t mean it!) seemed a little offended when I was SHOCKED! that Criss was in fact, turning 40 this year.

People, I said he was doable. That’s a GOOD thing. 40 is the new 30, it’s great to be 40, especially when you’re HAWT like Criss. But! when he is 14 years my senior it *could* turn heads, bring a lot of cradle robber comments to the forefront.

Tis all I meant my dear over the hill friends. Perhaps it is YOU that has issues with being 40, not me. *tee hee*

I’m just sayin’.

[Please direct your hate comments and emails to: getagripATgmailDOTcom. P.S. That's not a real address that I own, so you'll be sending your hate to someone unfortunate soul.]

So yeah, Criss…

*sigh* YUM!
Where was I? Oh, yes.

As I may have mentioned before, we are taking a vacation over the Christmas holidays - sans child that is not in my tummy - to Las Vegas where we will be over New Years Eve. I am so stinkin’ excited! I’ve officially begun to strategically plan my stalking of said illusionist at the Luxor hotel.

I have an idea of where he’s most likely to be found, where he lives (which is in the penthouse of the Luxor) and how I could cop a feel dry hump is leg get a hug shake his hand.

[If he ever ventures upon this while on the internet in the next 18 to 20 days, I may have to rethink my plan as there may be increased security around him, let's hope not.]

Mike’s been on this kick lately (since our sex life has dried up to about once every 2 months since I’ve been sick) where he jokes about getting a Mistress. I said I was alright with it as long as I could have a boyfriend or even a one night stand.

I mentioned that he was one of the most jealous guys I’ve ever met and it would drive him bat shit crazy if I happened to sit down and chat with a very hot man while we were in Vegas.

Mike looked at me and said: Sam, Criss is not going to sit and shoot the shit with you. You’re probably not even going to see him there. Get over it.

He knows me so well.

I played it up like I wasn’t talking about Criss at all.

But I so was.

A girl can dream, can’t she?

Did I mention I haven’t bought One. Single. Christmas gift yet?

Yeah, starting to freak out a little.

But! I have lights on my house and I have a tree and the Christmas music station tuned in the car. I’m getting there.

By the time I’m actually there, Christmas may be well over and I’ll be on a plane heading to see my Angel.

You think I could get him drunk enough to marry me in a drive thru wedding chapel?

Hmmm…. off to do more planning…..

I am happier then a pig in shit that NaBloPoMo is on it’s last leg day. Yeah, I said it. Whatcha gonna do about it?

Sure, it’s a little challenging and even a little tedious at times - like weekends - but it’s suppose to be. It’s purpose is to encourage us bloggers to think outside or little boxes and write religiously about anything and everything that comes to mind; a chance to share our poetic abilities, rants and raves as well as some well thought out and deep seeded emotions that we’ve been dying to express. November is that time of year where we throw out hats into the wind and blog like the dickens.

I, for one, am never haphazardly throwing my hat into that wind ever again. Before you call me a wimp and tell me that I am a party pooper, hear me out.

NaBloPoMo is to blogging like Dennis Rodman is to celebrity (So it’s not the best analogy… work with me here.): a huge freak that causes nothing but blank looks and the inability to think clearly.

Dude’s wearing a ladies bikini top

NaBloPoMo clutters the mind of an otherwise intelligent blogger (I’m not talking about me) and encourages them to mass produce shitty posts with no merit or reason. The content this past month was - dare I say it - lacking throughout most of Teh Internetz, and many didn’t have the excuse of having their heads perpetually hanging over the opening of the Gates of Hell (aka: The Toilet.) like me and some other ladies.

[But, no, not You. You were fabulous as always.]

NaBloMoPo removes many bloggers from their normally effectual posting, be it daily or weekly, into this realm of having to post regardless of there actually being some merit to what they have to say.

[But, no, not You. You were fabulous as always.]

The sense of community was completely lost as a collective group just randomly hit “Mark All As Read”, skipping past entires they normally would have taken time to read. Because of the daunting numbers they were faced with while opening feed readers, there was, in turn, a lack of anyone clicking through and actually taking time to contribute. I for one spent a lot of time trying to skim my way through feeds to pick out what I wanted to read rather then tackling the entire site’s feed, then to click over and comment: I know I’m not alone either.

[But, no, not You. You were fabulous as always so I had to stay and read.]

I know, you’re thinking: But tell me how you REALLY feel.

I feel like her. In fact. I heart her so bad I’d dry hump her leg if she wasn’t like, an ENTIRE country away from me.

Next year, I say Fuck NO! to NaBloPoMo and instead of fretting over getting a post done in time, I’m going to read and enjoy what you have to say.

So, I pray to Baby Jesus that you say Fuck NO! to NaBloPoMo too, because I don’t know if I could handle another month of reading all that shit those posts clogging up my feed reader.

Was this your first time contributing? Did you enjoy it (if you’re new or have done it before, doesn’t matter), would you do it again? Did you feel the sense of community to be lost in the jumble of posts as well?

:::

Edited to add: For some reason it’s taking my comment notification emails upwards of 20 HOURS to come through… so I’m trying to pay attention to the comments coming through and responding to them on the blog instead of the emails I would normally send.

I am still just baffled by Tom Cruise. He used to be so dreamy and wonderful and just palin ol’ YUM!

I can’t get over the transformation from OhMyGodItsTomCruiseHesSoFrigginHot! to Ewwwwww….

Hawt. So Hawt. In the days as Maverick from Top Gun. 1986.

Still YUM.

Yeah, doable.

Still even doable.

Then this happened. Scientology musta sucked all the hotness and scrumptiousness right outta the ol’ Tommy boy. For years I thought he was so looking’ better with age. I was sorely mistaken. Because:

Not. Doable. No Thank you.

Fug. Not Maverick anymore Dude. Let it go. Just let it go.

Took me a while to realize that was even him. I thought it was a fug look-a-like.

Tell me about one of your favourite celebs that have obviously not aged well.