Ok, Gravatar? What fresh nerd hell have I subjected myself to?

I’m seriously having Galaxy Quest flashbacks. “By Grapthor’s Hammer, I wiiiiilll avenge YOU!” Thanks Alan Rickman for burning that into my noggin.

At any rate, this is my first blog. I’m sure there’s some super cute word for it already, that a better netnerd than me made up. No, I’m not Googling it. I’m lame, but not THAT lame. If you did, take a Klonopin and call me when your anxiety attack is over.

Look, I ended up here because lately, words are spilling out of my brain. I can’ type or write fast enough to keep up with “the boppin’ to what’s left ‘a ma brain.” It’s one thing to periodically annoy your annointed few (I’m practically a pariah – I only have 200 something FB friends), and quite another to inundate them multiple times a day. Then there’s that whole tagging thing… half of them don’t want to be tagged, and the rest are offended you don’t consider them BFFs enough to tag. Frankly, it’s exhausting.

I started to write a book, and then realized I have a very specific format, and frankly I don’t think anyone wants to read crap they could already deal with on the ‘net. Ok, I would, but we’ve established that I’m a nerd.

Am I supposed to introduce myself now? AWKward. I’m a breath away from turning 40. I was blessed with reasonably good genes and on a good day get the “I’d do that” award. I’m also tall, which ensures that I don’t fall into the subcategory of Oompa-Loompa netnerds. I guess everyone has a right to an “Amen” for something.

I speak English (because you couldn’t tell that) and can mumble my way through French, Italian, and Afrikaans. Spanish? I used to be fluent, but once I emigrated back to my homeland, AKA French Canadian central, I promptly forgot everything I learned and remembered the proper way to pronounce Toutiere Pie. I wish I was kidding.

I sing Karaoke. I’m occasionally good. I get a kick out of “Twenty Years and Two Husbands ago.” Poor dear didn’t realize it takes far less than twenty to go through two. What’s the commercial? “Get in, get out, be on your way!”

You won’t want to read this blog. Let’s be clear that I’m doing this for selfish reasons. Ok, ok… truth is, I can’t possibly be the only sort of humanoid who hasn’t succumbed to the applique sweater wearing, “My kid is an honor roll student @ nobody gives a damn elementary”, my hair is an atrocity best donated to the zoological society (whatever THAT is), have already bought the suit I want everyone to fawn over at my wake, mentality. Uh, ok that was a little much. Call me insensitive. Move along peeps, nothing to see here.

My darker side (scared ya, didn’t I?)… Ok, I’m so kidding.  I was trying to channel “The Grudge” scariness but got distracted by crazy cats and the fact that yummy goodness that WAS a crispy fried noodle escaped my grasp and bailed to the floor.

On this note, I seriously need to go out and pollute my lungs. Plus it’s almost 6am on the East coast, which means I’m minutes away from being able to effectively harass my sidekick (more on Mr. D later) and must store up energy.

Happy Sunday peeps. Please do everything I would do if I had the funds.

-T, out.


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