Once A Month

Last year I said I was going to try and blog at least once a week.

This year, I'm hoping to do once a month. Actually, it comes in spurts. I bet I could manage twice a month.

When I'm out and about I have tons of wonderful blog ideas, but Facebook has ruined me. Now, when I have blog ideas, my neurotic mind immediately says, "Is this really enough material for a blog or should I just update my Facebook status and be done with it?"

I need to just list all of my ideas and put a series of one liners as a blog post. But, then that will end up being completely chaotic and how the heck will I ever title the posts?

At the carefully phrased suggestion from Anonymous and to protect my readers from a bad case of context whiplash I have added segues.

For example, the other day I was thinking how goofy it was that people complain that Google or Facebook is violating their privacy and they post it on Facebook. Or anywhere on the Internet for that matter. The fact you think you have any imagined privacy is grossly naive at best. If you don't want people to know what you're doing, don't do anything. If you're truly worried about your privacy you might need to seek professional help. But, for the sake of everything that's logical and sane, don't post it on the Internet. There is no privacy on the Internet. It's like peeing in the swimming pool and pretending none of it gets on you.

Speaking of accidents...

I was also thinking the other day how much confusion mobile phones have created with emergency operators. If everyone has a mobile phone and there is a wreck on the highway, how many emergency calls go through? Does it create confusion? In the old days (before mobile phones) someone would have to run into the nearest gas station, yelling, "Can I borrow the phone?" Or, "Can someone please call 911, there's been an accident!". Now, everyone just whips out their cell phone and dials. If you see someone having a heart attack, do you attempt to perform CPR or do you call 911 and ask for guidance first? Have people died because of this? Have there been any studies?

And if saving strangers from a heart attack is not enough, what about your drinking buddies?

I've discovered a bar that's like Cheers. As in, "everyone knows your name". However, I've got an odd name. When I walk in, everyone says, "Hey" and waves. When Tony walks in everyone says, "Hey Tony" and waves. I'm not sure how I feel about this. As a matter of retribution, I refuse to call anyone by their name either. I just say, "Hey everyone".

We all have friends in low places.

The other day, someone was commenting on how she and I have similar musical tastes. She proceeded to let me hear, "her favorite song". The song kind of made me feel like I was sadly trudging down the banks of a polluted river with thoughts of throwing myself in. Then, when the chorus hits, I can see the cold rain drops coming down like spikes from the sky in an attempt to nail down the lid to my coffin. I was like, "This is your favorite song? It's the most depressing song I've ever heard." She was like, "Yeah, but it brings back memories." I was like, "My gawd girl, you need better memories!"

It occurred to me that I listen to music to make me feel better. I would say I listen to music that makes me happy, but that's not true. I listen to angry music when I'm sad because I've determined that it's better to be angry than depressed. It makes me feel better. But sad songs make me sad. Don't listen to music that reminds you of the time your best mate suddenly dumped you so he could date your other best mate. That's just insane. Go listen to some, "Whatever", by Godsmack! It'll make you feel better!

Backyard Love Affair

I was seriously considering covering some important matter like gun control in this week's posting. I was also seriously intending to post something yesterday so I could increase my statistics for February. Both ideas for seriousness have fallen through. Mostly.

I don't have time to talk about guns. I'll just say they should all have tracking chips installed. If you have the right to own one then I have the right to know where your sorry ass is located.

The housing market in my neighborhood has taken a sudden turn. It has become a "seller's market". Many of you who peruse my postings on a semi inadequate basis know that I've been thinking of selling for several years. Basically, ever since I got divorced. She picked out the house and I got stuck with it kind of thing. It's a nice house. I'm far from miserable. But, I want something that is mine. I've waited too long however so now I am required to want something that is mine and my Gal Pal's.

I've contacted several realtors over the years. The last one I talked to I just told him to keep an eye out for me and when the market changed significantly to let me know. He contacted me a few weeks ago to tell me that the market has indeed changed and there are many more buyers than there are sellers. My house hits the market this coming Thursday!

This also probably means that I'm going to have to live in a rental of some sort because I don't want to be buying when it's a seller's market. I'll sign a year's lease and keep an eye out for when "the market changes significantly".

I got my hot tub working again! I replaced all the electronics and I did it all by my lonesome. Now when I lose my job programming computers I'll switch over to my new job as a hot tub repairman. And by the way, there's a party in my backyard tonight. Clothing optional. That sounded wrong. The hot tub is in my backyard. The backyard of my house. Google's going to hate me again. I can't help it!