You Found Me How?! March Edition



Every month, the same three of my posts bring me a ton of readers. The funny thing is that none of the three are very good—they simply have stuff people search for with weird regularity. “Lil wayne is gay” and “lil wayne rotten teeth” show up oodles of times every week. Crazy. And apparently I’m not the only one who has a thing for black and white cows, because searches for “dairy cow” and “spotted cow” bring people over to gaze at the photo of the gorgeous bovine on my Dude, Where’s My Cow? post. My blog about extreme plastic surgeries draws ‘em in, too. “Cat lady surgery” and “barbie plastic surgery” are searched multiple times daily. Really? Eh, I’m happy to have folks stop by, even if it is just get a peek at the occasional odd pic.


This month, in addition to the searches I already mentioned, there were a few cool search terms that landed folks on my doorstep. Some I understand and as always, there are a few that remain mysteries.

  • country girl on a front porch swing: Reading my mind? Able to peek at my dreams?
  • no privacy for me: I know! Someone has been reading my mind and snooping in on my dreams!
  • no poo in your curly hair: Well, yes. I prefer not to have any poo in my hair.
  • coffee meditation sun: Yes please, to all three.
  • fat to hot in 3 months: Hey! Wait just a cotton pickin’ minute!
  • octagon eyeglasses: Um, maybe.
  • dott spock: Somehow I read this and think Jack Sprat. I have no idea why.
  • old broad’s hairy nests: It could have been worse. Old broad’s hairy breasts, for example.
  • hemp farm: Write once about how you think medical marijuana should be widely available and you are forever labeled a pothead.
  • weed banner: *sigh*
  • born with freckles: Not a one, but I’d love to have a faceful. Freckles are adorable!
  • pouty boobs: That one took just 2 days! And for the record, her lips were pouty. Her boobs seemed perfectly happy.


That's all, folks. See you next month, same blogging time, same blogging place. :O)




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If you blog your You Found me How?! results, you can add your URL to the link over at Jane’s place.

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Boobs and Hips and Big Pouty Lips



She seems to make her appointments for the same days I do. Every time I’ve been at the salon, she’s been there, too. She preens and gives herself come hither glances in the mirror. Tests out her full bore sexy smile and her lowered lashes coy look. Twirls in her chair, tosses her hair, tilts her head, looks over her shoulder, and rewards her reflection with a right-into-the-camera red carpet dazzler. I’ve even witnessed her doing this cutesy shrug, slight eye-roll thing at herself—the one I’m sure she uses in response to admiring glances that says, “Me? Oh, my!” and is likely followed by the lowered lashes one. The pretend modesty combo platter. Maybe she adds a giggle in live performances that she withholds in rehearsals. That’d be my guess.

She’s got the goods, there’s no denying that. Boobs and hips and big pouty lips. But still.


If I were the betting sort, I’d agree to fork over a week’s pay if her Facebook profile pic doesn’t have both duckface and cleavage. Lots of cleavage.

I don’t get it. I’m sure she has a bathroom mirror. There’s no way this woman doesn’t have access to a mirror that isn’t situated in a fairly bustling public place. That she chooses to test drive her face portfolio in the company of others is interesting to me. I sit there, dazzled and a wee bit horrified, but unable to shake the need to know what drives such unabashed, exhibitionistic self-indulgence. She's people-watching gold, though. No doubt about that.

So, what’s her deal? Tons of confidence? Almost none? Some odd mental illness that is yet to be identified, named, and medicated by the good folks over at Abbott or Eli Lilly?

I’ll be back in the chair in seven short days. My step-by-step get-me-gracefully-to-gray process is ready for another tweak toward natural (like how my plan to go ‘natural’ requires the assistance of a very talented colorist and the magic of cosmetic chemical warfare?). I’m not sure how many more sessions I have to go before I transition to wearing just what God gave me. I can’t say with certainty that once the transition is complete, I won’t look in the mirror and run back to Brittany to beg for a rewind. And I don’t even want to think about how many dollars I’ve spent and will spend on this road trip from brown to silver.

I do know one thing, though. If Boobs and Hips and Big Pouty Lips isn’t there next week for a little snip and smile session, I’m gonna be sorely disappointed.



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Until just a little while ago, I had no idea what I was going to write for this week’s GBE topic, “Mirror.” Then I left a comment on Jane’s blog and a few hours later it hit me. My mirror-loving salon sister provided me with plenty of inspiration. If you’d like to blog with the GBE, just clickety-click. All are welcome!

Oh, and you wouldn’t like it if someone stole your words, so please don’t steal the work of photographers and graphic artists to provide images for your blog. Photo courtesy of Morgue File, which offers lots of wonderful, free images for public usage.


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GBE 2: Blog On -- Week #45: “Mirror”



GBE 2: Blog On -- Week #45: “Mirror”















As always, the guidelines are simple. Blog on this week’s prompt in any way you see fit. Once you’ve posted to wherever you normally blog, drop the URL to your post into the comment section below.

REMINDER: use the URL to your entry for this week’s specific topic post, NOT to your blog’s home page!

If you haven’t already done so, you are welcome to join GBE 2 at its main headquarters over on Facebook (We have over 230 active members and we’re still growing!). Just visit GBE2’s Facebook Page and request to join the group. Everyone is welcome, so tell your friends! :O)

Oh, and several people have asked what GBE stands for. It’s Group Blogging Experience. The original GBE was started over at MySpace by a fabulous woman named Alicia. She headed up the group for close to two years before deciding that she’d run her course with it, so she stepped away.

Last year, Alicia and I, along with a few others who’d been a part of that original group, were talking on Alicia’s Facebook wall about how wonderful that experience had been and before I could stop myself, I announced that I was going to start a blogging group in the same fashion as the GBE. With Alicia’s blessing, I swiped the name, added the 2, and the rest is history.

For those of you who use Twitter, the hashtag for the group's posts is #GBE2, and we can increase readership if we all tweet early and tweet often. ;O)

That’s it! Easy-breezy-lemon-squeezy!


You have until Saturday (3-31-12) to post your blog and leave your link…

Again, this week, our prompt is: Mirror


Ready. Set. Blog!


Happy blogging!
Beth



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A Matched Set



I pulled the lever down, hit the button, and stood there as my mug filled with coffee. We chatted, the hubs and I, while he stirred some veggies. I grabbed my mug from the Keurig and then shoved it back quickly when I realized that the stream of brewed-bean goodness was still going. I’d done it. Pulled the cup away while the machine was still filling it. When we got the fancy-schmancy coffee maker last year, I joked about the little drip pan where you place your mug. I called it, if I recall correctly (and I assure you that I recall correctly), the stupidity reservoir.

Um, yeah. I’d like to change the name of that now, please.

Mr. Nerd chuckled and continued telling me about his day. His work phone rang and he excused himself to take the call. He wrinkled his brow, reached into his pocket, and retrieved a set of keys. “Dammit!” he said.

He asked me to finish up dinner because he had to run back to work. Seems he left with a set of keys for a car that was scheduled to be picked up. He’d never done that before, though until a few years ago, it happened with some regularity to a few of his coworkers. The boss installed a giant colorful key board when those guys couldn’t seem to remember to return keys to their proper spot before leaving for the day and since then, the hubs has referred to the big, framed key center as the idiot box.

My guess is he’d like to change the name of that, too.


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Sunday to Sunday: My Week in Review





















  • Sunday: 102.8, achy, and miserable. My pillow was my best friend.

  • Monday: No fever, so even though I was coughing, sneezing, and snuffly, I bopped around all sorts of giddy. Early to bed.

  • Tuesday: Early to rise. Wished I had one of those jobs where calling in sick was a reasonable possibility. Dragged my butt through the day and went to bed early. Probably earlier than most of the daycare kids.

  • Wednesday: It’s only Wednesday? Crap. Wiped noses and butts, and watched the clock. In bed by nine. Again.

  • Thursday: I hate the alarm clock. Hate. It.

  • Friday: Don’t these kids ever stay home? Thought C’mon 5:30! in the way that Wheel of Fortune players yell “C’mon big money!” Went with the hubs to pick up take out for dinner even though all I really wanted was a hot shower and cool sheets.

  • Saturday: Coughed most of the night and then stood in the shower hoping that the water would wake me up and make my muscles stop aching. It did neither. Fought a fever all day—102.4 unmedicated and 101.8 medicated. Spent most of a perfectly warm, sunny day on the couch, alternating between sweating and shivering. Cursed the cootie kids and the parents who dose ‘em up and drop ‘em off.

  • Sunday: Fever almost gone, though not quite. Showering and dressing proved exhausting, so I napped on the couch afterward, with wet hair. Thought I couldn’t feel much worse until I looked in the mirror. Tales from the Crypt meets The Mad Scientist. Hot.




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Written for this week’s GBE topic, “Make a List and Title It.” If you’d like to blog with us, just clickety-click. All are welcome!

You wouldn’t like it if someone stole your words, so please don’t steal the work of photographers and graphic artists to provide images for your blog. Photo courtesy of Morgue File, which offers lots of wonderful, free images for public usage.

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GBE 2: Blog On -- Week #44: “Make a List and Title It”



GBE 2: Blog On -- Week #44: “Make a List and Title It”















As always, the guidelines are simple. Blog on this week’s prompt in any way you see fit. Once you’ve posted to wherever you normally blog, drop the URL to your post into the comment section below.

REMINDER: use the URL to your entry for this week’s specific topic post, NOT to your blog’s home page!

If you haven’t already done so, you are welcome to join GBE 2 at its main headquarters over on Facebook (We have over 230 active members and we’re still growing!). Just visit GBE 2’s Facebook page and request to join the group. Everyone is welcome, so tell your friends! :O)

Oh, and several people have asked what GBE stands for. It’s Group Blogging Experience. The original GBE was started over at MySpace by a fabulous woman named Alicia. She headed up the group for close to two years before deciding that she’d run her course with it, so she stepped away.

Last year, Alicia and I, along with a few others who’d been a part of that original group, were talking on Alicia’s Facebook wall about how wonderful that experience had been and before I could stop myself, I announced that I was going to start a blogging group in the same fashion as the GBE. With Alicia’s blessing, I swiped the name, added the 2, and the rest is history.

For those of you who use Twitter, the hashtag for the group's posts is #GBE2, and we can increase readership if we all tweet early and tweet often. ;O)

That’s it! Easy-breezy-lemon-squeezy!

You have until Saturday (3-24-12) to post your blog and leave your link…

Again, this week, our prompt is: Make a List and Title It

Ready. Set. Blog!

Happy blogging!
Beth






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GBE 2: Blog On -- Week #43: “Shenanigans”



GBE 2: Blog On -- Week #43: “Shenanigans”















As always, the guidelines are simple. Blog on this week’s prompt in any way you see fit. Once you’ve posted to wherever you normally blog, drop the URL to your post into the comment section below.

REMINDER: use the URL to your entry for this week’s specific topic post, NOT to your blog’s home page!

If you haven’t already done so, you are welcome to join GBE 2 at its main headquarters over on Facebook (We have over 220 active members and we’re still growing!). Just visit GBE 2’s Facebook page and request to join the group. Everyone is welcome, so tell your friends! :O)

Oh, and several people have asked what GBE stands for. It’s Group Blogging Experience. The original GBE was started over at MySpace by a fabulous woman named Alicia. She headed up the group for close to two years before deciding that she’d run her course with it, so she stepped away.

Last year, Alicia and I, along with a few others who’d been a part of that original group, were talking on Alicia’s Facebook wall about how wonderful that experience had been and before I could stop myself, I announced that I was going to start a blogging group in the same fashion as the GBE. With Alicia’s blessing, I swiped the name, added the 2, and the rest is history.

For those of you who use Twitter, the hashtag for the group's posts is #GBE2, and we can increase readership if we all tweet early and tweet often. ;O)

That’s it! Easy-breezy-lemon-squeezy!

You have until Saturday (3-17-12) to post your blog and leave your link…

Again, this week, our prompt is: Shenanigans

Ready. Set. Blog!

Happy blogging!
Beth





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Mad about Diary of a Mad Fat Girl



Word of warning: If you choose to read Diary of a Mad Fat Girl by Stephanie McAfee, please do not do so while sipping any hot beverages. I adore the steamy goodness that comes from my Keurig, but not when it’s forced up into my sinuses.

Graciela “Ace” Jones is my kind of girl. She’s smart, sassy, and flawed enough to make readers fall in love with her. Once I got over the fact that she wavered a bit in believing in her friend (but since Lilly was willing to forgive her, I thought I probably should, too), I was all in.

My favorite books usually have a group of wonderfully imperfect friends, and Diary of a Mad Fat Girl delivers beautifully on this. I loved them, all of them. I want to hang out in Ace’s back yard, fill my plate, crack open a cold one, and scratch Buster Loo’s head. I want some of that homemade ice cream (can I have a scoop of chocolate and one of banana, please?) and I want to be pampered at the Waverly Estate and be served peacock shaped cookies.

McAfee is already living a writer’s Cinderella story and I hope it gets even better for her. I’d love to see this one grab Hollywood’s attention and if (when!) it does, I’m gonna gather a group of my best friends, dress up in drag queen dresses and outlandish wigs, head to the theater, and get a big tub of popcorn. The really big one.



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This was a paid review for BlogHer Book Club but the opinions expressed are my own.

Oh, and the pic is a snapshot of my copy of the book. :O)

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If You Give a Geek a Gadget: Fitbit Review



A little while back, Jenn wrote a review about a little fitness gadget called a Fitbit that she was digging. It sounded really cool and her description made my geeky little heart go pitter-patter. When I mentioned the Fitbit to friends and clients, I found out that a bunch of them were in love with the thing, too. I was sold.

I got my Fitbit Ultra after work on February 13th and was so excited to get started using it that I set it up and used the sleep tracker (Yes! It tracks your sleep!) feature that night, even before I’d used it to track a single step. I was immediately infatuated, but my feelings have deepened into true love. This thing ROCKS!

The Fitbit Ultra is a pedometer, but it is so much more. It has a accelerometer, like the ones in the Wii, so it senses not just how many steps you take, but how you move and how much effort you’re putting into those movements. It’s also equipped with an altimeter, so flights of stairs are tallied, as well.

Did I mention that I lovity-love-love this thing?

You just slip this puppy on and go. It communicates wirelessly with your computer when you are within 15 feet of it, and automatically synchs the info from the gadget to your profile page. Putting the Fitbit on the included USB-connected charger synchs your info, too, and charging takes less time than it takes to read a blog or three.

Set-up was easy-peasy-lemon-squeezy and took just a couple minutes. You enter your stats, set your goal(s), and choose your privacy settings. I have to say that I appreciate the thought they’ve put into the website (free, by the way). You have complete control over what you share and with whom (just you, friends, and public), decided item-by-item. I’ve yet to add any friends, mostly because I don’t really want unsolicited advice and letting people peek at my food choices/activity levels/progress is bound to garner at least a little opinionated commentary.

If losing weight is the goal, the Fitbit offers four levels of difficulty from slacker to superstar. Initially, I chose the second-from-slacker level because the approximate calories it offered seemed doable to me. I soon realized, though, that the caloric offering is based on just breathing and strolling around through the day—if you move your butt, you are allotted additional calories. Woo-hoo! I upped my choice to the not-quite-superstar level because I’m a good little calorie-burner. :O)

On the dashboard, there’s a little half-circle graphic with a target area highlighted at mid-point, which represents your target caloric intake to stay on track for the level you chose. As of today, I’ve exceeded that target area once (not by much, and it was on a day when I wasn’t allotted many extra calories because I spent a good chunk of the day chillin’ with the hubs), in the zone once, and under every other day. I have a feeling I’m operating at the superstar level, but I have no desire to up the setting. I kind of like it where it’s at—if I keep moving along quicker than planned, dandy, but no pressure.

Oh, you can log your food, too! There’s a HUGE database of food products, and if by chance what you’ve eaten isn’t in there, you can add it to your list so that it’s just a click away next time. Every item in their database has all the nutritional info--not just calories--so you can see at a glance how many calories, carbs, fat grams, protein, fiber, etc. that you've eaten and it tells you what percentage of your daily intake came from carbs, fat, and protein, too.

I’ve told you I dig this thing, right?

Finally, the sleep tracker feature. Very cool. You move your Fitbit from your waistband to a wristband (included) and close your peepers. While visions of sugarplums (or, you know, Johnny Depp) dance through your head, your sleep is analyzed, based on your movements. It estimates the time it takes you to fall asleep (usually about 6 minutes for me), senses your movements, and tallies the more substantial ones as times awakened—even if they were short-lived enough for you not to consciously notice or remember them.

That’s about it. The one thing the Fitbit folks don’t tell you is that their little gadget is crazy-addictive. I’d compare my adoration for the thing to how I once loved Bejeweled Blitz—and this gets me off my behind instead of encouraging me to park on it.

I think the Fitbit Ultra is the best hundred bucks I’ve spent in a good long time and if some horrible thing happened to it (gasp!), I’d be in a mad rush to buy a replacement. As addictions go, this is a pretty great one.



This was a little before 11:00 this morning.





















Again, about 11 this morning:



















About 9 p.m.:




















Sleep last night (I never sleep as well on Sunday nights as I do the rest of the week):














A Friday night:













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NaBloPoMo, Day 5.

Oh, and I forgot to mention something! See that flower on the top pic? It grows as you increase your activity!

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GBE 2: Blog On -- Week #42: “Confrontation”



GBE 2: Blog On -- Week #42: “Confrontation”















As always, the guidelines are simple. Blog on this week’s prompt in any way you see fit. Once you’ve posted to wherever you normally blog, drop the URL to your post into the comment section below.

REMINDER: use the URL to your entry for this week’s specific topic post, NOT to your blog’s home page!

If you haven’t already done so, you are welcome to join GBE 2 at its main headquarters over on Facebook (We have over 220 active members and we’re still growing!). Just visit GBE 2’s Facebook page and request to join the group. Everyone is welcome, so tell your friends! :O)

Oh, and several people have asked what GBE stands for. It’s Group Blogging Experience. The original GBE was started over at MySpace by a fabulous woman named Alicia. She headed up the group for close to two years before deciding that she’d run her course with it, so she stepped away.

Last year, Alicia and I, along with a few others who’d been a part of that original group, were talking on Alicia’s Facebook wall about how wonderful that experience had been and before I could stop myself, I announced that I was going to start a blogging group in the same fashion as the GBE. With Alicia’s blessing, I swiped the name, added the 2, and the rest is history.

For those of you who use Twitter, the hashtag for the group's posts is #GBE2, and we can increase readership if we all tweet early and tweet often. ;O)

That’s it! Easy-breezy-lemon-squeezy!

You have until Saturday (3-10-12) to post your blog and leave your link…

Again, this week, our prompt is: Confrontation

Ready. Set. Blog!

Happy blogging!
Beth


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Rookie






Earlier today, my two-year-old grandson grabbed a plastic bat and ball in the playroom and then whacked the ball around with the bat in golf club or hockey stick fashion while yelling, “Hut! Hut!”

I smiled and asked him what he was doing. “Playing basketball!” he said.

Of course. These athletic genes run deep.




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NaBloPoMo, Day 2.

You wouldn’t like it if someone stole your words, so please don’t steal the work of photographers and graphic artists to provide images for your blog. Photo courtesy of Morgue File, which offers lots of wonderful, free images for public usage.

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Fire and Ice



I noticed something the other day. Something that my husband has been saying for a handful of years, but I dismissed because I thought he was either exaggerating or is a big sissy. He wasn’t and he’s not.

It’s freaking freezing in here.

When I was a kid, I was oddly intrigued by stories of people who spontaneously combusted. I was mesmerized and horrified by the phenomenon, and ate up tales of little old ladies who were sitting in rocking chairs one minute and reduced to piles of ash the next. As I approached 45, I wondered if maybe my childhood obsession with spontaneous combustion was nature’s way of preparing me for my destiny.

What? That surprises you? C’mon, you people know me. Do you really think there’s any possibility that I started out super-cool and then morphed into this? Nope. Not a chance. This level of dorkdom takes years and years to cultivate.

Anyway, it’s been freezing in my house for five years. The furnace works perfectly, but from about my forty-fifth birthday to the one where I crossed the half-century mark, I had the thermostat set to coldish during the day and just above where the pipes might freeze for nighttime. And for a good chunk of those years, I was still broiling. Light cotton shorts and spaghetti-strap camis while everyone else grabbed heavy sweaters kind of broiling.

We have a fairly regular bedtime routine here at Casa de Nerd. I snag the bathroom first and then set the alarm and crawl into bed, with the hubs following close behind. Again, until recently (seeing a pattern here?), I felt like Arizona in August while he shivered like an elderly Eskimo on an ice floe. He’d snuggle in close, probably just for the body heat, and I was always a little taken aback by the temperature of his skin when he draped a frozen arm across my torso. On more than one occasion, I mentioned that I thought he might have a circulation disorder. Sometimes, this observation amused him. Sometimes, not so much.

About a year ago, I started wearing seasonally appropriate clothing again. Last fall, I wore a jacket outside on the same days that normal people did. And then a few weeks ago, I grabbed a blanket to snuggle up with when the hubs and I settled in to watch Modern Family and Revenge.

Progress.

Just the other day, I put a sweater on. An honest to goodness sweater. On. My. Body. Then, still a little chilled, I clicked the heat up a few degrees. I saw the look on my husband’s face: disbelief mixed with joy. My hubby is happy. The folks at the gas company will definitely be happy. And me? I’m happy, too.

It’s freaking freezing in here. How great is that?



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NaBloPoMo, Day 1.

Please don’t steal the work of photographers and graphic artists to provide images for your blog! Photo courtesy of Morgue File, which offers lots of wonderful, free images for public usage.


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