Category: embarrassing myself

crockpotting is easy right? no. just…no.

So. I had this bright idea. I have a crockpot, right? Like, put in the food and kind of just let dinner cook itself. So I thought to myself, hey! Why don’t I start actually cooking dinner? I can use this handy crockpot! Oh! I know! I’ll come up with a whole week’s worth of dinners, go

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throwback thursdays (vol. 9): doorknockers

  Today’s TBT picture has nothing to do with the post, but everything to do with how much I love my son! This picture is from when he was seven, and he’s so cute I just can’t stand it. Today’s Throwback Thursday post is brought to you by your friendly neighborhood HMO. Indeed, I blog

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being in IT does not make me good at computers

As you may know, I work in IT. As in, Information Technology. As in, I should know a little something about computers. Unfortunately, I don’t. When people find out that I work in IT, the first thing they ask is, “Oh, can you help me with this computer problem I’m having” or “Come over and

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a sunburned ass? well, not this time at least.

Yet another Google search I can’t recommend: sunburns on the butt. Why was I googling this, you ask? Because today’s blog post has to do both with a sunburn experience when I was much, much younger than the older, wiser person I am today, and the ferocious sunburn I achieved this last weekend while hanging out

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And day 2 was no better

I’d love to report that day 1, what with all the orange juice spills and stickiness of skirt was just an anomaly and that I returned to a manageable level of craziness thereafter…but no. Today is day 2, and already I’ve lost a toenail and…BURNED MYSELF WITH MY CURLING IRON FOR THE THIRD TIME. I

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off to a just wonderful start (/sarcasm)

Well. I am writing this as I am a scant 3.5 hours into this trip and already I’ve had a spectacularly messy 2N travel first. As usual, I couldn’t keep my eyes open during takeoff and snoozed my way happily to 10,000 feet, at which point the flight attendant came by: did I want anything

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throwback thursdays (vol. 5): of lawn boys and stalkers

I re-read this today and cracked up. Poor Lawnboy. How does one explain that one isn’t interested, in a way that salvages both your self-respect and their ego? Answer: run recklessly and with wild abandon through your house, away from the front door where the poor lawn boy is waiting to just get a moment

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drinking yourself under a bench…not just for kids anymore!

There comes a time in every dirty, mouthy hooker’s life in which she finds herself in the unavoidable situation of being drunk to the point of stupid activity but unfortunately not so drunk that she drinks herself into a safely somnolent stupor. On occasion, believe it or not, this has happened to me. Which is

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