Excuses

I'm in the middle of a huge project at work. HUGE. And worrying about going over budget (although I wasn't given one) and that the people I've contracted with are going to disappear or just suck in general has drained my creative brain cells.

Probably because I'm having to use them to think of ways to creatively rephrase "Get me your copy" for 8 different authors 3 times a day. Then I have to think of equally creative ways to tell the head designer that I do not have said copy yet.

His cat's having surgery so he's running a little behind.

She wrote 20 extra pages so she's got a lot of editing to do.

There was a (pick one) flood/power outage/major media event and she just couldn't do it.

He had to take his disk to Kinko's and the computer ate it. The helpful Kinko's man then removed the disk with a screwdriver and handed it back to him in a plastic baggie.

She was traumatized when she was attacked first by a bag of okra and then a frozen turkey floating in the ocean.

The voices in his head that tell him what to write have gone on strike.

She doesn't know how to use a computer.

I'm glad it's a holiday weekend so everyone will have some time to come up with a new batch of excuses to serve up on Tuesday. I probably won't write anymore until then. See, I'm going to be trekking through Nepal and then possibly doing a guest appearance on the Late Show with David Letterman. That is if my surgery to remove my parasitic twin goes well. It shouldn't be a conflict unless my Doctor has to go play golf or go to Capitol Hill to speak on stem cell research. We'll see what happens I guess.

La La La I'm So Stupid

On average, how many stupid things do you do a day?

I do an average of 12.4.

My first stupid thing today was putting both contacts in the same eye. Don't ask me; I don't know what I was doing either.

Five stupid things involve me tripping on the carpet at work, and at least one stupid thing a day is related to me cutting corners too quickly and then running into said corners. Occasionally I hit my head when I bend over to pick things up. Rather too often, my hair gets caught in the car door when I close it. Several times, my chair has gone out from under me. The real joke was, no one pulled it.

The .4 comes from when I do stupid things that people don't see. Actually, that would be closer to 184.4, but who's counting?

My lower body is typically covered in bruises inflicted from the foot board of my bed and the corner of my desk. Now that I think about it, bruises are kind of like nature's tattoos - only less permanent. Each one shows your individuality and gives clues about what you like to do. I like to run into things apparently.

It's probably not a good thing that I am now forced to work with lots of sharp objects like scissors, exacto knives and box cutters. My 3rd day at my job I was sent home early after slicing my middle finger open. Papercuts abound here too.

I've had the thought many times before that I would be safest inside one of those padded rubber sumo suits, either that or a bubble.

You could call me Alli-san or Bubble Girl.

Frivolity

Here's a joke for you. Disclaimer: this is not my joke. I borrowed it from Reader's Digest. I wonder if that's enough attribution? Guess I'll know when I receive the "cease and desist" letter.

Q: Why does Snoop Dogg carry an umbrella?
A: Fa drizzle.


HAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHHA!

Confessions of a Blog Slacker

George?

George, are you there? Please don't ignore me. Don't treat me like I treated you. I really missed you. Honest. I thought about you every day.

I tried to think of something interesting to say about my trip to McDonald's for a fruit and yogurt parfait. But really, what's there to say about it except YUMMO? I thought about doing the riff from Shrek about Ogres being more like onions than parfaits (even though they both have layers). I tried to come up with a humorous pseudo-law about the certainty of where oatmeal will land on a woman's shirt when dropped (right smack between the boobs as if creating a third nipple). It's just that nothing seemed good enough to type out.

But from the way you're shaking your head, I know you know that's not entirely the truth.

George, please forgive me. I've been bad. I have strayed from the blog to the immediate gratification of...gulp...email.

I know. I know. I have betrayed you and your vast blank pages. It just seemed so much easier to type out a quick email. It's so fast, so easy. I was seduced by the convenience.

But, you know, now that I think about it, maybe this isn't all my fault. Maybe you should think about your part in this. If you weren't so pristine and perfect and so eager for my words, maybe I wouldn't feel all this pressure to contribute and be funny. Maybe this is all your fault. Yeah, that's the ticket. You did this. You drove me into the convenient waiting arms of email.

But I'm willing to forgive you if you're willing to forgive me. Maybe we can start again without all the pressure. We'll just see what happens. We'll tell the blog police to get off our backs. We'll make this work. We can do it!

Sunday Drive

Important Note: This post is not roadkill free. You've been warned.

I decided to go for a nice Sunday drive yesterday. In order of encounter, I had to swerve to avoid:

Dead deer - one
Roadkill - unidentified, but likely just one
Vultures - several
Smashed wooden pallet - two
Big blue trash can on wheels - one
Styrofoam peanuts - millions
Ugly plastic lawn chairs - two

Not every strange thing I saw was actually on the road. There were some bizarre things on the side of the road too. Like a bicycle helmet in good condition (no head attached to it). A few feet down the road was a pair of jeans. I think I saw a sock too. This leads me to the disturbing conclusion that someone's riding down the interstate stripping as they go. If you're in Nashville, be on the lookout for an irresponsible half naked cyclist.

Believe It or Not!

For you fellow NPR addicts out there, I thought I would provide you with my own list of "This I Believe." For those of you who don't know, NPR is sponsoring a new series, based on an old series, where people take 3 minutes (!) to explain their core belief system. I thought about submitting something, but since my core belief deals with public bathrooms, I didn't think it would be quite what they were looking for.

I believe...

I believe...that you should never take the stall right next to someone else in an otherwise empty public bathroom.

I believe...that there is a conspiracy by the state of Tennessee to keep outsiders from knowing that it rains here more than it does in Seattle.

I believe...that I should win the lottery.

I believe...that work weeks should be 4 days and weekends 3.

I believe...that I am Queen of my own little land.

I believe...that love is almost impossibly hard even when it's good.

I believe...that forces are working against me.

I believe...that things don't always work out, and that might be an ok thing.

I believe...that everyone should be a little nicer. We all have to fight battles.

I believe...that I am Allison in Wonderland, especially when I take the time to see how wonderful this world is.

I believe...that every home needs something living in it - mold in the refrigerator or shower doesn't count.

I believe...that a bubble bath with a book and a glass of wine or cup of tea can cure most bad days.

I believe...you should listen to what I say.

(I am the Great and Powerful Oz)

Especially about the bathroom thing.

Trust me.

Red Light: A Romance in 3 Seconds

I'm having total blog withdrawal. I had to get my fix! Did you miss me as much as I missed you (said as though there are people hanging on my every post)? Thought I'd tell you, the nameless internet masses, about my totally fantastic morning.

I got checked out this morning. Total head turning, eyes staring, almost running into the car in front of him checked out! Ours was a fleeting love. He tore his eyes away from me, finished his left turn and was gone from my life forever. But don't cry for me Argentina, the truth is I didn't even know him. But he sure made my day! Ahh, the kindness of strangers...don't say it doesn't exist, even if it comes in the form of an ogle from the other side of a truck window.

New Toy

This blog is like a new favorite toy, and I just want to play with it all the time. Have forgotten previous favorite toys like the crosswords or the Oddly Enough news section on Yahoo. Instead go to site hourly to check on it and make sure it's still there. Believe me, it's not for any obnoxious, self-absorbed reason like rereading what I've written over and over and over again. What kind of person does that?

uncomfortable pause...and change of subject

I feel like the dog (or was it the abominable snowman?) from the Loony Toons cartoons: "And I will love him and squeeze him and call him George." Maybe that's what I should have called this blog. George. Instead it became the "Clutz Chronicles." I'm sure one day an entry will reflect the column's name, but for now I prefer to keep my dignity a little while longer. There's plenty of time for everyone to learn that I can't chew gum and walk at the same time.

Well, my lunch time is up. Time to put away my new toy for a little while.

Goodbye George. See you soon.

The Name Game

I remembered my password and user ID. Go me! This means I must flood the site now with my random thoughts before I forget this important piece of info along with when to pick up my drycleaning and when I had my last oil change.

Does anyone else besides me hesitate to register on websites just to avoid the hideous process of trying to figure out a user name that no one else in the world's population (6 billion and growing...or is that just how many people McDonald's has served) has already used? It took me 3 tries to get one for this site and my connections are beginning to get a little vague. Pretty soon I'm going to be stringing along my name, alma mater, PIN number and 6th grade locker combination to have something unique. I can't imagine how the John Smith's out there are creating user names. Maybe they just type in "ahdfahgfja" and let that be it.

I think once I tried to be "no name." It was already taken. The site did give me an option - I could be "no name623." Sigh.

I think the next time you're feeling so very different and unique, you should go try to think up a user name that no one else has. That'll bring you back down to earth. Kind of like how the little boy in The Incredibles says that because everyone is special nowadays, no one is. Yikes. When did cartoons get so smart?

Until Later -
Al

What have I gotten myself into?

I have just created a blog. Oh no. What have I done? I've already forgotten my screen name and password. Just in case this is my first and last post, thanks for reading.

So,
what
to
talk
about....

Hmmm....didn't really think about actually having to type something at least semi-interesting here. And what if I confuse my to's, two's and too's? Or my its and it's? That would be embarrassing. I do know better, but all bets are off if I start typing in some stream of consciousness whirlwind.

Of course, I can always go with the very forgiving theory that language and grammar are always evolving and you can do just about anything with them as long as you say you're doing it for creative purposes. Just look at e e cummings what a life that would have been to be free from punctuation and capitalization of course it does run the risk of making your readers crazy as they try to divide your random thoughts into some sort of flow or easily understood nugget of information but sometimes its good to think about besides it leaves lots of room for interpretation and funny misunderstandings although i cant think of any examples at the moment

Ok, it's way too hard for my liberal arts minded self to forgo the punctuation. Just can't do it. I like my commas and periods, ooh! and especially dashes ----------

Until later -
Al