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I’m moving.

March 10, 2010

deeply saddened that i never update this?

well count yourself amongst the other half-dozen who feel the same way.  and be prepared to feel…..EXCITED.

yes, YOU.  i have now taken all of my blogs and updated them to live under one brilliant super site type idea.  and by super site, I simply mean just a legit web address.

I do intend to post far more often though.  I was trying too hard to be one type of blog, and therefore, hadn’t the content and ideas to share that often.  Now i am just going to let me be me.  So, you have been forewarned!

check me out at Forever. Tentatively.

i will be getting rid of the old blogs sooner or later, so please, please check out the new site, and often! I promise, it will be worth it (NOTE* promise only applies to those who find me somewhat entertaining as is)

thanks for reading!

Nic

My Header Blows

November 17, 2009

HOLY PIXELATION BATMAN!

My header looks like a grade 8-er in Beginner Computer Arts for Dummies made it.  But they didn’t.  And actually, before you crop it to WP approved sizes, it looks good.  But, it’s not before you crop it.  It’s after. And it looks like le poop.

Hey, come to my awesome blog, that looks like a pile.  Also.  What do circles have to do with sarcasm?

Cyclical.  Like technology.  Like the Rat King.  Sarcasm, never ending circles…I guess it could work.

This kind of inspires me to get my thinking cap on and learn more about basic design.  I think I will start in Clip Art.  That is where all the big pro’s get their graphics from.

If I weren’t so tired, I would right now, at this very minute write a post about how much I hate people to pretend like they are going to learn about things that we all know they never are.  Like when my dad talks about electric guitars. But I am tired. Too tired.  Doesn’t that just fill you with promise?  I am literally too lazy to write out 10-12 sentences, but I am proclaiming that I am going to learn about graphic design.  That is because sometimes I lie.  I also have a crappy header, so I most likely should not be trusted.  Then again, I DO do what I say I am going to do.  For example, I am still learning Italian.  It just happens that I took a long break from it after learning how to talk about strong jawed men eating apples.  Because that is really all I need to know to be able to prance around Italy without any problems.

Buona notte, polloni.

 

The Best Invention Ever

September 1, 2009

It is true.  I am known to throw about a lofty statement here or there.  But this is not one of them:

Mini eggs are the greatest invention ever made.  The wheel can suck on it.

What better way to point out the obvious reasons that Mini Eggs are better than wheels then with a fluid, 2 column, Truth Filled chart?  None

nic-chart

I’m more than sure that my scientifically control group tried, tested and true experimental facts prove my point.

Mini Eggs = 785 points + a life’s worth of wriggly puppies.

Wheels = a year’s worth of paper-cuts.  heavy card stock.

Closing Statement:  I’d like to see a chicken try and shit out a wheel.

To My Princess and My Sugar Butt

June 22, 2009

I would like to take the opportunity to give 2 of the most wonderful, hot as all women in the entire world a public and permanent shout out.

I have been going through a lot lately…some bad, some lame-sauce, some good, some AMAZING.  And these 2 have been there as comforters, as pillars of strength, as mourners, as wise cracking sidekicks in my ever so devious plots.  These 2 hug me when I am sad, make fun of me when I need to step off my self proclaimed throne, and make me laugh so hard I become physically ill.  I have been just crazy ridiculous blessed that they even give one tiny amoeba sized care about me, let alone the giant behemoth sized amounts they actually do…

I realize this may embarrass the both of you in very large quantities, but I do not rightly care.  Sucks to your asthsmar, it’s my stupid blog and I can do whatever I like.

To my Princess and my Sugar Butt, whom I love heaps and heaps

me and kim2My Princess: Oh HI!  Just a best friend.

jalen-han-and-I2Sugar Butt: Remember, our bond is just like a scar.  Permanent and Ugly.

And now, to make this even more awkward, a Dedication:

What would you do if I sang out of tune,
Would you stand up and walk out on me.
Lend me your ears and I’ll sing you a song,
And I’ll try not to sing out of key.
Oh I get by with a little help from my friends,
I get high with a little help from my friends,
Oh I’m gonna try with a little help from my friends.

What do I do when my love is away.
(Does it worry you to be alone)
How do I feel by the end of the day
(Are you sad because you’re on your own)
No, I get by with a little help from my friends,
Mmm I get high with a little help from my friends,
Mmm I’m gonna to try with a little help from my friends

Do you need anybody?
I need somebody to love.
Could it be anybody?
I want somebody to love.

Would you believe in a love at first sight?
Yes I’m certain that it happens all the time.
What do you see when you turn out the light?
I can’t tell you, but I know it’s mine.
Oh I get by with a little help from my friends,
Mmm I get high with a little help from my friends,
Oh I’m gonna try with a little help from my friends

Do you need anybody?
I just need someone to love.
Could it be anybody?
I want somebody to love
Oh…
I get by with a little help from my friends,
I’m gonna try with a little help from my friends
I get high with a little help from my friends
Yes I get by with a little help from my friends,
with a little help from my friends

LOVE LOVE LADIES

Sidenote: the Summer Time is upon us, which means that there are Mosquitoes everywhere.  I have spent summers in Manitoba, and I can handle them in the great outdoors, where I know I can leave them.  But there is one in my room at this very moment that escapes me every time I prey upon it; and the mere thought of it being in here waiting to feed on my sticky sweet sanguine fluid is making my skin crawl.

Let’s Break for a Little Poignancy

June 22, 2009

I forget why I decided to set myself up for blogging.  Generally, I don’t specifically make a point to set myself up for failure.  But this time I really did do it to myself.  I do in part blame all my coworkers, for convincing me that I am interesting enough to merit having one.  People will tell you all kinds of crap when Asset Search time comes around and they want to pass the buck…

I think though if I were to be introspective, I could tell you why I have not been blogging of late.  It’s because I have really been fairly happy.  Generally my posts take a rant-y approach on things, and as such, flow most easily when i am worked up about something ridiculous.  But happiness quells this.  So.  Now i shall take a brief moment to be serious and take a shot at saying something that matters.

I have been learning lately many things about myself.  It’s been an interesting realization lately, finding all these holes in my soul that are desperate to be filled.  Not that i ever think one stops learning, or growing, or that God will ever take a break from working in us.  But as 25 looms in the not so distant future for me, I am daily amazed at just how little I actually know myself.  Previously, I have always decided that I was strong.  And I am.  I have been told time and time again that God has gifted me with an emotional strength and resilience, and it is the one gifting that I can see in my life clearly time and time again.  I could carry the weight of the world on my shoulders, and I would be able to take on more.  Do I always like it? Absolutely not.  But I move along and take all that I can regardless and I make it to the next day.  God made me stronger than other around me for this reason.  I can carry them when He needs me to, I can comfort and I can build up and I bounce back.

So that is why I find it shocking that lately I feel so weak.  I suppose one brick on top of the other and sooner or later the whole wall wants to come down.  My walls have been crumbling.  And though it has been painful and trying, and at times I cannot see past the end of the ho ur let alone the day, I can tell that there is something more.  I can see the betterment in the working, the beauty through the fire.  Often it is clouded, and ashes obstruct my senses, but I am seeing glimpses of it.  God has been, and is currently molding me.  And that means breaking the old casings and making room for the new to settle in.  He has been teaching me that yes, He has made me strong, and that He will continue to bless me.  BUT.  He is showing me that He never expected me to carry all the weight.  Most importantly, I am for the first time in my life realizing that being weak is in some ways a strength.  Being able to admit that I need help not only from my Lord, but from other people is shattering for me.  This is probably the hardest lesson that I will ever learn.  Being weak is not a sign of failure, but a sign that I am able to accept that I need help, that I realize I need God to come and be my strength. And sometimes it really sucks, sure.  No one said it would be easy…but they did say it would be worth it in the end.

I’m not sure why I am posting this.  I really normally do not like to write about personal things in my life for others to read, but this has been something so bright that it is almost blinding the last little while.  Every day has proven to be an exercise in letting go and trusting that God will take care of me and my future.  And these things happen so that we can learn and better ourselves.  Take from it what you may!

The Writing on the Wall…The Bathroom Wall that is…

May 8, 2009

I cannot express to you how much I hate all You Idiot People (yes, capitals on that one, these people deserve Official Titles) that write things on bathroom stalls and or walls.  You are just the dumbest of the dumb, let me tell you.  I bet you really proved your point by defacing property with poorly constructed sentences and your 9th grade education.  Congratulations, you literally are ruining everything for everyone.

Don’t get me wrong, I do have a faint inkling of how you feel.  I at times in my previous career as a semi professional high school wise ass often felt the need to just stick it to some frenemy…But I, unlike you, chose to take the high road.  Be it that I did it because of a divine moment of heavenly interjection, or because I was too scared of getting caught, or because I didn’t want to actually spend all my spare time in a place where people take care of their bodily functions, who knows.  But I chose to be a classy broad.  You, Mystery Bathroom Writers, do not.  Oh, I know some of you attach your name, or a pseudonym, or a gang insignia (Jets, Sharks, Crypts…take your pick).  But do you really think anyone in the Chapters Ladies Room really knows who you are?  Or cares? We are buying Dostoevsky and Woolf and Platt…you could try cracking open, say…Mr. Brown Can Moo, Can You? or Goodnight Moon (remember to start slow and sound the words out, you don’t want anything to burst).   Although, if I were to be honest, I certainly would like to contact you and thank you for your words of wisdom.  “Remember, boys are an accessory, not a necessity”.  I mean, my life really fell into place after reading that.  I got promoted at work, my stock shares skyrocketed, my racehorse won the Kentucky Derby, my boss stopped hitting on me and my cholesterol dropped!  I owe you everything.

Sometimes I’m not sure…is it possible that these people defacing the once lovely facilities are in fact, so stupid that they cannot fully grasp that the deliciously crafted burn they spent hours labouring over has just gotten lost amidst the normalcy and sadness that has become bathroom wall fodder?  I mean, I guess if I felt so strongly about something or someone, and were so proud of my highly anticipated bathroom wall burn,  I would say it to their face…or at least mail them…at the very least, via text/facebook…I mean really, what is the world coming to?  Anonymous potty time hate notes?

There are those few valiant souls who man up and grow some and go at it full force.  You, I can almost pretend to respect.  You are sure as heck writing the name of the person your message is intended for, and you are sure as heck signing your very own name at the bottom.  But I think you are one of those supremely passive aggressive people that is just looking to burn your former best friend who stole your other best friend’s adoration and is now courting your ex almost-boyfriend’s affection.  MAN, did you ever find THEE perfect venue in which to express oneself.  Writing a degrading note on the bathroom wall addressed to friendo from friendo, pointing out how big their hips are and talking about their B.O.  You, my dear dumb-ass, are in a bathroom.  The resting place of the Loo.  Where peoples do their business.  Your credibility has gone down 10 fold.  In fact, I now wish Jessica all the best with Travis and I am happy that her and Kate finally saw how much they had in common… You are a Porcelin Throne Author, and do not deserve either of them.  Just tell Jessica that she hurt your feelings.  Communication is key.  BECAUSE, more likely that anything, Jessica is never even going to know how much your feelings got hurt at the Spring Fling when she left you to go dance with the shy tall boy that finally asked her.  You never told her.  You oh so wisely wrote it on some random wall at a undisclosed location.  How in the world is someone supposed to find your Honesty Note?  They have probably been searhing high and low for this information tid-bit.  They’ve put a pin on the map, and are slowly going in a circle, hitting all public bathrooms untill they have covered each and every one.  They will not stop until they know! Geez.  Idiots.  Unless Jessica is waiting to use the toilet direcly after you, and you know that 110% she is going to use that same stall, you are completely useless.  You better tip her off before she goes in.  Just let her know and then wait it out while you dry your hands.

ALSO, to all you In The Can Composers.  Try brining a dictionary with you.  I know graduating from high school isn’t for everyone, but I really do think this tip will help to boost your validity at least a smidgen.

I duno…I’m feeling all Rant-y about this one…it angers me in such ways…

Story Corner: The Screen Door

March 29, 2009

I like to talk.  A lot.  So often times, when I start to panic and realize that I haven’t talked in almost 5 whole minutes, and I am starting to forget what my self admitted, lovely voice sounds like, I will take it upon myself to share a story with those around me.  Did those around me ask to hear a story?  No.  Were those around me still telling their own stories?  Probably, but who cares.  So, I begin to tell one of my tales.  The great thing is that often, my tales are just ridiculous.  Like, crazy awesome, and quite possibly unbelievable, or even full of lies.  And always exaggerated.  And the people I tell my stories to, I’m not sure if they are gluttons for punishment or not, but they always laugh, and ask questions, and ask me to tell more stories.  In fact, often times, these same people urge me to blog about my stories, or tell me that story telling is why I should have a blog.  So, being a level headed individual, able to listen to others suggestions,  I have decided to do just that.  They have no one to blame but themselves…because I welcome you to the Idiots and Dummies Story Corner. Today’s installment:

The Screen Door

I have a crippling fear of doing things that people would deem as “stupid”.  Which is almost certainly the most comical thing ever, considering how often I actually do things that people have and do deem as stupid.  If I were to say this happens numerous time throughout the course of one day, I would be doing myself a favor.  It probably happens more.  So, it would figure that on this particular day many many moons ago, I was already moving about in a state of paranoia.  I was running late.  As a youth, there was nothing in my life that was worse than running late.  Now, I thrive on being late, mostly due to the fact that I have turned into one of those scatter brained people that thinks it takes me WAY less time to get ready than it in fact actually does.  Anyhow, digression.  So, on this particular day I was already late to arrive at the fete that was going on at a friend’s house, like, massively late.  So I park my car, and walk around the back entrance and down a long set of stairs, trying to be as quiet as possibe as to not arouse any unwarranted attention, because even though the majority of these people were my friends, friends still think their friends are dummies.  Now I came upon the door, which was already open, seeing as it was a breezy summer evening.  My plans were to slink through the door all stealth like, slide off my flip flops and make a mostly unnoticed entrance into the house.  Life does not always go how we want it to.  I had taken a small step into the door frame when I felt a sudden force rushing up against me.  It was the oddest feeling, this sudden, dizzying pressure forcing me to stagger back, confused.  I recall stumbling for my footing, disorientated as to what this strain was working against me.  I’m not always one to think about the repercussions of what has just happened, and what the next logical step would be.  I of course, just took another firm step towards the door frame again.  BAM.  It was like a slap in the face.  But not only my face, my whole body.  I struggled shortly, but was quick to realize that resistance; disgruntled, out to make a fool of me resistance, was futile.  I gave in, letting the dull, scratching pain drag me down with it.  To my amazement, the struggle was short lived, and although it seemed as though in slow motion, I was surely moving ahead, one step at a time.  Seconds later, I was steady on my feet, awestruck as to what had just taken place.  What was this searing pain, this all to aware feeling of dead silence all around me?  Better yet, what was this unyielding black mesh rubbing up and twisted about half my body?  And how had I ended up inside the house?

All these terrifying questions were answered all to quickly, as I turned and noticed the waning summer sun glinting off the shiny metal frame of the screen door…the now screen-less screen door.  YEUP.  It happened.  I busted my way right through that bloody screen door.  I still hate that screen door.  Why do people even want their screen doors to be invisible?  The frame is still there!  People are always going to know that there is a screen situated in said door! Seriously!?!?  So I go inside, and realize that, of course, everyone who is there has seen this atrocity taking place.  And of course, everyone is staring dumbfound, some in reverence, some in incredulity as to how some idiot had even managed to walk through a frickin screen door.  And I tend to agree, I still have NO idea how I could be so insanely incoherent as to not STOP when I felt pressure.  I, evidently, thought that I had come up face to face to some sort of otherworldly test of strength and spirit that I had to overcome for all of humanity.  But the screen door, that blasted Phantom Screens screen door was busy doing it’s job, invisibly keeping unwarranted visitors out.  I looked around the room, realizing that the person who’s house it was, was not even in the room.  So now I was faced to face with the daunting task of doing the walk of shame through the room of gawking onlookers to find my friend.  Hoping against all hope, that after hearing my story, he would still be my friend…I found him, and sheepishly told him the horrific and incredulous tale.  Another interesting thing about me, I laugh when frightened.  I’m like Kato, giggling like an idiot as I admit to my many wrong doings.  I’m trying to explain how a person could even manage to push their way through a screen door laughing, and my friend doesn’t seem interested in believing me.  Once again I begin the walk of shame, marching solemnly alongside the person who’s house I have wronged, through the room of now chiding peers and coming to a sudden halt at the gaping mouth of a hollow, aching, screen-less screen door.  Seeing is believing.  Thankfully for me, my friend was super breezing, even more thankfully for me, he became this way due to his super breezy parents.  Bless these super breezy parents, as they let my malfeasance against them pass.  That was the day that I first fully understood the act of forgiveness.  And what a blessed, blessed thing it is.  Moral of the story?  Stop, for the love of all that is good and pure, STOP when you feel resistance.  Not just for screen doors, but take caution, I implore you the next time you are using a Q-Tip, or are about to embark on that 7th Krispy Kreme.  I promise you, you can push and push and push the limitations, but sooner or later, when you least expect it, everything around you will come crashing down, or exploding.  It’s not worth it.  The fear, then embarrassment, then ongoing, life long shame will never, ever be worth it…My mom puts stickers on all doors now, screen or not.