Tag Archives: comments

Just another helper monkey 2014 review….

The WordPress.com stats helper monkeys prepared a 2014 annual report for this blog.

Well, thank you helper monkeys.  I’m no statistician (can’t even spell the word without help) but I have poured over this report and come to a few conclusions.  I have listed them at the end, where all good conclusions belong.

Here’s an excerpt:

The concert hall at the Sydney Opera House holds 2,700 people. This blog was viewed about 33,000 times in 2014. If it were a concert at Sydney Opera House, it would take about 12 sold-out performances for that many people to see it.

Click here to see the complete report.

People are reading my archives.

I was more interesting (or made better tag choices and was thus easier to stumble upon) last year.  And the year before that.  Or somehow these old posts, as the monkeys suggest, have staying power.  Only the monkeys know for sure.

I have some very loyal readers/commenters.  Thank you from the bottom of my heart.

Jazzy needs a new purpose in her life (besides consuming truckloads of red wine) so that she can make a come back.

Today, for some reason that even the monkeys can’t fathom, is my best day ever for follows.

Here’s to a happy blog crazy 2015.  We’re almost there.  Just have to get these monkeys off my back.

Advertisements

Dear Breathing Space

IMG_0356

 

My Dear Breathing Space, Blog of My Life, Disturber of my Good Nights Sleep:

So sorry for blatantly ignoring you lately and being a bad blogging friend so that no one wants to read you because you have nothing to say.  I have lots of great reasons and excuses, but you’ve heard them all before so we’ll just skip that tedious part of this letter and get right to the point, which is my ingenious Plan To Do Better.

1.  Every Monday I will write a poem, giving all of us just one more good reason to hate Mondays.  I will incorporate whatever the Wordnik word of the day happens to be.  I apologize in advance, and will find nice pictures that may or may not be relevant to take your mind off the fact that it’s poetry.

2.  I will do a Just Jazzy 24 Day Advent Calendar from the first of December to Christmas Eve.  It will involve more creativity than putting the numbers from one to twenty-four on twenty-four bottles of red wine.  Although that might also be fun, involving a Christmas I wouldn’t be able to remember…..

3.  I will answer at least one Daily Prompt a week, no matter how hard the topic makes me roll my eyes.  It’s time to stop being such a critic and just answer the damned questions.

4.  Trifecta is brilliant, the writers are brilliant, and it would be brilliant of me to take every one of their challenges.  I will try.  I cannot promise brilliance, but it would be brilliant to have that aim.

5.  I will also try to respond to comments because I love getting them and it’s horrible bad manners not to.  I’m basically a really nice person, albeit a ridiculously lazy one, but being rude is never acceptable.  Why do I keep forgetting that?  It’s not okay.  Smarten up, you inconsiderate moron.

Okay, that’s it.  It’s worth a try.  November was a write-off for a post a day for me.  There was too much to read.  On line and off.  Here’s to a better December 2013 book of days.

Love from your Omnipotent Creator

(who will sleep better tonight, unless she starts worrying about breaking these promises, in which case we can both disregard all of the above nonsense.)

Just kidding.  I love you.

Round Prompt
Round Prompt (Photo credit: creativelenna)

 

Hey, it’s just another one of those 2012 Reviews!

But since the WordPress.com stats helper monkeys prepared a 2012 annual report for this blog, I do feel obligated to publish it.  Thank you WordPress.

Here’s an excerpt:

4,329 films were submitted to the 2012 Cannes Film Festival. This blog had 27,000 views in 2012. If each view were a film, this blog would power 6 Film Festivals

Click here to see the complete report.

I am so pumped that my blog could power six Film Festivals.  Whatever that might mean.  Thank you, thank you, thank you to all the people (however misguided), who visited this year.  And to everyone who clicked the follow button and for all your delightful comments.  You’ve encouraged me to keep on going.  And to all the googlers who got here by accident, try to be a little more careful when you search for random stuff or you’ll just end up back here again wondering why.  It’s because my tags are all over the place.  Sorry.  But thanks for dropping by anyway.

Hindsight is a Beautiful Thing

Daily Prompt:  Hindsight

Now that you’ve got some blogging experience under your belt, re-write your very first post.

Strange as it may seem, I really have no idea what my very first post was.  I’ve been writing in some form or other my entire life and this blogging thing just seemed to be a natural progression from writing letters and e-mails and insanely witty posts on chat boards.  I imported a lot of posts from a  previous blog site when I was deleting and extensively cleaning house and starting over with WordPress.  That was six years ago.  Then I wrote a lot of new things which got all mixed up with my pages compositions and pictures and general all-over-the-place chatter, prattle and nonsense.  Not much has changed, has it?  Unless you count the direction in which this blog is going.  It’s like a leaf in the wind – hard to pin down.

The other thing that has changed in the last couple of years is my privacy policy.  That’s a nice way of saying I’ve become progressively less embarrassed about all the dumb things that pop up on my screen and do a lot less thinking about who is reading it.  If my own family members couldn’t be bothered to see what I was up to, chances are complete strangers were not hanging on my every word.  And then I got some comments and some followers and an incredibly puffed up ego and that’s partly why I’m still here I guess.

But the main reason is that I can’t NOT write.  It doesn’t matter if the results are good or bad or ugly or loved or ignored.  I do it for me first.  And for my grandchildren second, so that if they’re ever curious, they will know who I was and who their ancestors were and why they all need psychiatric help.

98 thingsThis is the revised version of a post I wrote in November, 2006 called 98 Things.  (Don’t panic, it’s not one of those never-ending lists – I left out the bad and the ugly this time around.)

Today at Chapters I picked up this little book by Rebekah Shardy.  I had two good reasons for doing so.  I go through Chapters when I leave the mall after getting my hair done, and I cannot possibly do that without buying something.  Okay, three reasons.  There’s just something irresistable about a little four-inch square book.

Some of these 98 things I have already accomplished:

1.  Go a month without shaving your legs  (only a month? hahaha….I am SO past that it isn’t even funny)

2.  Invent a punch that will raise eyebrows and lower inhibitions (come to my house for Christmas.  You will not leave sober.)

3.  Serve something flambe (YES!  I really did do that once!  No buildings burned down!)

4.  Sing to a child.  (Even though it’s not ALWAYS appreciated.) (Rock-a-bye Baby used to make my daughter sob…..”Don’t song mommy!”)

5.  Tell Richard Simmons to just shut up and sit down ( not face to face but via the t.v., which is the next best thing)

These are the ones I really think would be worth trying:

1.  Paint a mural of your imagined past lives (it would have to be a damned big piece of paper)

2.  Teach someone, besides a child, to read.   (Like a dog?)  (I know she means an adult.  But I love a challenge.)

3.  Be someone’s fairy godmother.  Wand optional.  (I would definitely not leave out the wand.)

4.  Write an unauthorized biography of your family, including embarrassing photos, a tribute to the infamous black sheep, and favourite recipes.  (Except for the recipes, I think that’s a work in progress here!  Sorry family.)

5.  Burn a cd with music you want played at your funeral:  baffle generations to come by including the rap song “I Like Big Butts”. (Sadly, I fear no one in my family would find that strange.)

6.  Cry in the rain (If you have to cry, that would be the perfect place to do it.)

7.  Remember life is too short for ironing, non fat dairy creamer and regret of any kind.  (Check, check and check.)

8.  Don’t indulge in one judgemental thought for an entire day.  Okay, an hour.  (Sigh – I could try for ten minutes)

9.  Write three haiku poems about your most amazing, horrible and baffling sexual experiences and frame them for your boudoir.  (OMG.  If I can just keep the hysterical laughter under control for a sufficient length of time I’m sure there are great rewards to be reaped from such an endeavor.)

10.  Explore your inner pagan by creating your own seasonal rituals:

– at the spring equinox, detox with a juice fast, sauna, and deep muscle massage

– at the summer solstice, hire a manicurist to give pedicures to you and four friends while your pampered klatch sips mint juleps

– at the fall equinox, organize a black clad beatnik poetry reading with the themes of rain, dissolution, and romance

– at the winter solstice, plant a circle of globed candles in a snowdrift and make wishes every night until they burn out  (I’m going to put every one of these on my calendar. My inner pagan is giddy with anticipation.)

And finally, the ones there is no way in hell I’d ever attempt.

1.  Stay in a convent for a week.  (What in the world for?  Would it be a test for me, or for them?)

2.  Ride a motorcycle alone across the Nevada desert.  (WHY?  No good could possibly come of it.  Unless someone is trying to kill me and I’ve decided to save them the bother.)

3.  Learn to belly dance and integrate it into your lovemaking.  (Okay, this lady does not know my husband.  He already thinks I’m crazy – why add to his arsenal of proof?)

4.  Design a picnic around aphrodisiacs – raw oysters, champagne, rose petal jam on chocolate fingers – then whisper in another’s ear the sensual images that passing clouds suggest.  (See the belly dancing comment above.  He would have me committed.)

What a great little book!  It also suggests you write an autobiography about the life you didn’t choose.  Gah.  I’m having trouble writing about the one I did choose, complete with my own 98 gazillion things I felt were important enough to do in my lifetime.  It’s just fun to see things from a new perspective.

Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m going out to buy some castanets, and then I’m going to practice telepathy with my cat.

Rain and Lilacs

Lilacs
Lilacs (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

Is it too late to be bothered fixing up flower beds for this year?  (Please say yes.) The tiger lilies and the dogwood thrive despite my neglect but some other plants are looking dejected and thirsty and mostly dead.  In a previous life I must have had gardeners.  My ambition gets stuck in neutral and all I want to do is big fat nothing when I get home from work and just looking at the yard makes me tired.

But it’s a mercifully short work day today and I’m hoping to get more accomplished than sleeping through the entire afternoon, tempting as that might sound.

The rain has rained itself out for now, the lilacs next door are blooming and the breeze is blowing their delightful scent through my window.  Now there’s something you can’t buy in a spray bottle.

This song has been rolling around in my head this morning and I can’t seem to get rid of it.  Don’t you kind of hate it when that happens?  There’s no real cure, but sharing seems to ease the pain.

So there you go – it’s all yours now. Complete with lyrics so you can sing along.  You’re welcome.