*peeking from cave entrance* Hi y'all!

I lost track of time so thoroughly that when I found my last post was back on the 19th... well color me surprised. That was a WHILE ago! I don't know where the time went. I thought perhaps it was just last week that I'd posted. Don't feel expendable, though. Apparently, I'm ignoring everyone else too.

It's not my fault! (how do you like that lack of accountability??) It's the Electronic Revolution of 2008 rearing it's black, scaly FLAMING head of mechanical death, I tell ya.

Just yesterday, I checked my voicemail - because I'd missed a bunch of calls and, surely, ONE of them left a message. Right? I mean people USED to leave me messages. Except my phone has decided to stop TELLING me I have them. And the little mail icon has developed a stubborn streak; it likes to stay around on the screen even when I DON'T have messages. So I checked, to be sure, because I couldn't remember the last time I'd done so.

Msg 1 - Wahoo telling me to call her back.... on the 12th.
Msg 2 - Wahoo - now with sarcasm - wondering why I'm ignoring her calls... on the 15th.
Msg 3 - Wahoo - "Tag, you're it... and that means you actually PICK UP THE PHONE and call back!".... on the 19th.
Msg 4 - Wahoo - *noisy breathing annoyance sounds*.... on the 20th.
Msg 5 - My Dad - @ 7am... he knows I don't pick up that early and I actually talked to him later so that one's a wash.
Msg 6 - CBoy - I talked to him later that day.
Msg 7 - Wahoo - She's pissed.... on the 24th.

I called Wahoo back and after enduring a few minutes of Smart Assery, apologized and explained that No, I am NOT hitting the crazy bottle. My phone is out to get me. And I now feel STUPID. That made her laugh, so it's all good.

So, see? You're not alone!

And part of the reason I haven't blogged lately is that my Internet has joined my phone in the flaming pits of revolution hell. It has up and quit on me. Okay, that's not ENTIRELY true. It's just stopped working during DAYLIGHT hours. It comes on and works just fine... while I'm cooking dinner. While I'm watching Lost. After I've gone to SLEEP. When I'm awake and at my desk, though? It cackles at me like Macbeth's witches on crack, it's little blue lights blinking on and off intermittently - service stopping, normally right as the Netflix Instant Play movie I'm watching is hitting a GOOD PART.

Just the other day, I was watching 100 Girls and the movie stopped mid-play as Shaggy walked through the back door, home from school. Where it stopped? On a girl's naked BOOB! Because that's what you REALLY want your teenage boy to see. He walked in, raised an eyebrow, and said, "Are you watching P0RN???" *shaking head*

I told him, "Yes, because I really, really like the girly P0RN! The girly p0rn really does it for me. Do you want to pull up a chair and watch too?"

We called Hughes Net - who bought the DirecTV Satellite service. They were VERY helpful. They think it's something wrong with the satellite dish. Great! Send someone out and fix that dish. Except, ummm NO. They want ME to pay $125 for some yahoo to come out and look at it... and then EVEN MORE MONEY if something is wrong or needs to be replaced.

I asked Mr. Clean, "Ummm, when did we BUY the stupid dish? I didn't realize I OWNED the dish." He shrugged. Now he SAYS he spoke those same words to the rep but I know him better than that. Mr. Clean doesn't do sarcasm. So, for the moment, I'm rebooting the satellite transmitter... like FIFTY GAZILLION times a day. It works. And it's FREE.

One of the blogs I was able to read before the blue-light symphony of internet death hit - posted by one of my absolute favorite authors - has the greatest post on earth! It addresses a SINCERE and VICIOUS pet peeve of mine - Lady Tinkle. Really, you MUST read it. Go here to learn all about the viablity of Butt Cooties. Truly, you'll thank me. Or maybe I'll thank YOU. Anything to make the women's restroom a better place to visit.

That's about all I have today as the burning desire to get writing is searing a hole in my brain. (That's a Bold-Faced LIE but I'm trying to convince myself it's the truth) I'll update the word meter above (or possible replace it with a better one - one that had gone down a while back and is now back up and running). There is PROGRESS!

Except I think I may have started hitting the Middle Of The Book Hell phase. Just this morning, I told Mr. Clean I was thinking of trashing the whole thing. He made a noise and shook his head. I rolled my eyes. And then he slapped me on the butt and told me to go inside and WRITE already. So I decided to BLOG instead.

Either way, it's all good because I'M not slogging my way through the Gelatinous Air of Hell outside in order to yank weeds from the garden. Mr. Clean and his hoe seem to be having a good time without me. So I guess I'll write. In a minute. Soon. Perhaps after a game of Zuma. Or NOW. Geez!

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