NerdGirl: Where to Even Start?

FREAKIN’ FACEBOOK!

Ugh. Oh my gosh. Holy crapola on a cracker!

Ok, so here’s what happened.

I was spying.

Yes, I know, how lame can a person be? But there’s just something fun about spying on people you are curious about. And usually it’s really easy to do, especially when you know how to find people. Not that it’s all that difficult.

No, I’m not talking about stalking or even trolling. I was just curious. But now my curiosity is going to get me into trouble. CRAP!


(Super Der-Dee-Der Spy, you mean.)

See, I’ve been putzing around on Facebook for the past hour just updating and commenting and blah blah blah. And, of course, that got boring fast. So what did I decide to do? I decided to look up people I’ve met through my job. Ones where I could remember their emails real easily. Ok, only ONE person whose email I could remember easily. But of course Facebook decided to go all crazy on me when I was trying to type in his email.

This is where you picture me typing, then re-typing, then re-typing again while quickly trying to trick Facebook by pushing the Delete button quickly (Stoopid Facebook kept adding crap to the email addy I was trying to type!), all with an annoyed yet focused look on my face.

Then, the next thing I know I’m getting a message saying something to the effect of, “Sorry, we didn’t send an email to that person because they’re already registered with Facebook. We’ve already sent him a friend request on your behalf.”

And I found myself screaming at the computer screen, “NOOOOO! Oh no! Oh NO!!”

I’m pretty sure I’m still hyperventilating.

I thought about sending him a message in which I apologize profusely and insist that it was all some wacky accident involving lots of medication and an enormous brain fart. But then reason started to kick in. This guy doesn’t even have a profile photo of himself posted on Facebook yet. I bet he’s the type who rarely checks his FB, and when he does he’ll probably think I’m just some ho trying to hit him up for some five-dollar-lovin. Ugh. One can only hope.

*snort*

I’ll definitely let you know how this one turns out.

What Up Dog?

It was Friday night. We were at Charlie's in downtown Puyallup to sing some karaoke. We'd already cut the birthday cake and eaten it gleefully when I noticed one of the coolest vans drive by. I was so disappointed that I didn't have my camera on me.

An hour or so later I leave Charlie's (I had to work in the morning--no late nights for me on the weekends) only to discover that the RAD-MOBILE had parked itself in Charlie's parking lot! I skipped over singing, "HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO ME! HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO MEEEE!!" After all, my birthday wish had come true.

Rest your eyes on THIS beauty:



Ok, so I decided not to post the one with the entire weiner van in it because both the dude in the window and I had (unfixable) bright red lazer-beam eyeballs. But still. I think this photo alone should prove that the classy "What Up Dog?" mobile was all a gal could wish for on her birthday.

That, and a giant flower balloon that doubles as a giant bobble-head.

The Velvety Dark Shnoz of Luff.

Reasons why I love my cat:

1. He doesn't mind my mood swings.
2. He cries for me from the bottom of the stairs when I get home from work.
3. He doesn't have to be walked.
4. He doesn't defecate in the house.
5. He brings me presents.

Regarding number 5, two days ago I came home from work to find my bedroom COVERED in bird feathers. Apparently he'd finally scored in catching a bird. I hate it when he catches birds, but he's such a crappy hunter that 98% of the time I can rest assured that he's not going to bring anything home. I even keep a bird feeder just outside my bedroom window so he'll have something to keep him preoccupied.

Anyway, not only did I find the bird alive under my bed, but my cat had pulled out so many of its feathers that it couldn't fly. It was just hopping around on one foot (the other had been injured), but doing a great job at keeping away from the cat. I did manage to catch it and release it, although I don't think it lasted the night. Poor thing.

And then yesterday when I got home from work I noticed something distinctly... lumpy in my cat's food bowl. Lo and behold, this is what I discovered:



(It's a small, very dead mole.)

My cat, Kenny, decided to put this small dead mole in his food bowl, just like he puts my hair bands and his favorite shoelace. It was just another toy to him and he had put it away. Have I mentioned that I love my cat? Yeah, I'm crazy about 'im. My sweet Hunter kitty with the velvety dark shnoz of luff. *smiles*