I didn't intend for the blog to change appearance, really I didn't. I was working on the assumption that until I clicked the "OK button" Blogger would NOT apply my playtime to the face this blog presents to the world every day.
Live.And.Learn.
What really chaps my glutes is that the change WIPED OUT all the linky goodness that was going on, and the list of my favorite hard-to-pronounce words, and whatever else personalized I had on there like my "barking moneys" and such. If you look closely,you'll see that when you leave a message here you're an angry alien now, and you "chirpily burble" your comments.
You're welcome for that.
===========================
I had to fool around with the color and font and background width and such, of course, and so if I have to accept this change into my life, well then at least the change will bow to my iron will and do as I, its mistress, wish it to!
Feel free to leave your impressions of the new look in the comments, you little angry alien.
==========================
I took the kiddies to McD's this morning for breakfast on our way to school and work, and I don't think it's possible to have had a worse experience at the drive-through.
(Pull up to speaker, wait for accidentally broadcasted conversation in a foreign language to finish)
"Ola, welcome to McDonalz, kin I teek yoor order?"
"Yes, thanks, I'll have a number 11 with an orange juice, and number 12 with a milk, and a sausage and egg biscuit, please"
"OK, thass a nummer 11, a nummer 12 and what?"
"I want a number 11 with an OJ, a number 12 with a milk and a sausage and egg biscuit."
"Oh, OK sorry about that."
Pause...
"You want a McMuffin?"
"No, a sausage and egg biscuit."
"Oh, sorry."
(Screen busily changes from thing one to thing two and some other things gets added on)
"What do you want to dreenk with dat?"
"I TOLD you, a milk and an orange juice."
"Oh, sorry. That weel be garble garble garble, please garble garble"
(pull up to first weendo---- I mean, window, hand the girl money after she's done taking the next order and arranging her hair. She regards my 20 plus the correct change with a look that can only be described as "confused," and starts punching numbers into the register while breathing deep sigh. I get my change and pull up to the next weendo---- uh, window. The bag o' food is delivered, along with proper drinks, and I drive off)
Boy 2 unpacks the bag in the backseat, handing his brother the sandwich he wanted, then giving me my biscuit (NOT McMuffin), and then announcing -
"Mom, I didn't order a sausage McMuffin, I wanted a bacon McGriddle!"
Which, of course, was "the number 11 with OJ" I had ordered 3 times.
I don't think the girl with the nametag that said "Laura" (quotes were hers, BTW), is real counter-girl material.
=============================
Lastly, I have come to the harsh realization that stress and me don't mix well. I'm much more the bovine than the vulpine type. I'd rather have my field of grass then an exciting hunt, any day of the week.
Do you think there might be a job that makes people like me happy? There must be..... something like professional garden weeder or baby rocker or floor sweeper sound pretty good, as does paid laundry folder or paper stacker or dishwasher. I could work in a tie-dye shirt shop or make macrame plant holders or something like that; something that seems productive with out too much thought involved so that I can daydream my way through day after day after day.....
Suggestions?
Live.And.Learn.
What really chaps my glutes is that the change WIPED OUT all the linky goodness that was going on, and the list of my favorite hard-to-pronounce words, and whatever else personalized I had on there like my "barking moneys" and such. If you look closely,you'll see that when you leave a message here you're an angry alien now, and you "chirpily burble" your comments.
You're welcome for that.
===========================
I had to fool around with the color and font and background width and such, of course, and so if I have to accept this change into my life, well then at least the change will bow to my iron will and do as I, its mistress, wish it to!
Feel free to leave your impressions of the new look in the comments, you little angry alien.
==========================
I took the kiddies to McD's this morning for breakfast on our way to school and work, and I don't think it's possible to have had a worse experience at the drive-through.
(Pull up to speaker, wait for accidentally broadcasted conversation in a foreign language to finish)
"Ola, welcome to McDonalz, kin I teek yoor order?"
"Yes, thanks, I'll have a number 11 with an orange juice, and number 12 with a milk, and a sausage and egg biscuit, please"
"OK, thass a nummer 11, a nummer 12 and what?"
"I want a number 11 with an OJ, a number 12 with a milk and a sausage and egg biscuit."
"Oh, OK sorry about that."
Pause...
"You want a McMuffin?"
"No, a sausage and egg biscuit."
"Oh, sorry."
(Screen busily changes from thing one to thing two and some other things gets added on)
"What do you want to dreenk with dat?"
"I TOLD you, a milk and an orange juice."
"Oh, sorry. That weel be garble garble garble, please garble garble"
(pull up to first weendo---- I mean, window, hand the girl money after she's done taking the next order and arranging her hair. She regards my 20 plus the correct change with a look that can only be described as "confused," and starts punching numbers into the register while breathing deep sigh. I get my change and pull up to the next weendo---- uh, window. The bag o' food is delivered, along with proper drinks, and I drive off)
Boy 2 unpacks the bag in the backseat, handing his brother the sandwich he wanted, then giving me my biscuit (NOT McMuffin), and then announcing -
"Mom, I didn't order a sausage McMuffin, I wanted a bacon McGriddle!"
Which, of course, was "the number 11 with OJ" I had ordered 3 times.
I don't think the girl with the nametag that said "Laura" (quotes were hers, BTW), is real counter-girl material.
=============================
Lastly, I have come to the harsh realization that stress and me don't mix well. I'm much more the bovine than the vulpine type. I'd rather have my field of grass then an exciting hunt, any day of the week.
Do you think there might be a job that makes people like me happy? There must be..... something like professional garden weeder or baby rocker or floor sweeper sound pretty good, as does paid laundry folder or paper stacker or dishwasher. I could work in a tie-dye shirt shop or make macrame plant holders or something like that; something that seems productive with out too much thought involved so that I can daydream my way through day after day after day.....
Suggestions?
4 comments:
I like the new look, but I'm really bummed at your losing your fabulous favorite words and links.... Know what I think? Know how we were complaining about Blogger being mean to us?
I'm just sayin'...
Your question is too darn easy. A freelance writer. You could write the occasional piece - no pressure, no deadlines - and they'd pay you gobs of money because it's, well, written by you!
I think Craig's list has a writer's freelance section. A friend of mine got a job helping someone write a book from that section.
You want me to double check?
(I do miss your fabulous links. Sorry about that. Sucks.)
I like the new look, but am bummed about the link loss.
I agree with WN and M3. You could TOTALLY be a freelance writer. You could also pull off being a stand up comedian - or a writer for one.
WN - freelance writer sounds good...as long as I get to be famous too. :> And, oh yes, I know what you're saying....Blogger has it out for us, I'm sure of it.
MMM3 - Craiglslist has LEGITIMATE areas? What? How very odd.
Renn - I have dreams of comedy, but am afraid of the gross 2 a.m. drunk people who would be my first audience. It would take massive ball-age for me to ever get up and do that! But hey, thanks for the boost.
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