Helloo? Is it me you're looking for?

I SWEAR on a bag of circus peanuts and baby Jesus' dirty diapers that I will post something worth reading (or seeing..I might do a vlog due to time constraints) soon because the Queen twat post below is getting chewy and downright smelly.

Meanwhile, for your Tuesday enjoyment please enjoy Tyrone Jones' super delicious moves. And try not to get so jealous...

Baton is the cure for cancer and other mundane musings because that post below is so old it's starting to smell bad.

I'm Aliiivvee. Yes, I'm sorry. I went into hiding after my first attempt at being a low budget director, producer, editor, host of a home video that I dared called a 'show.' So many things have happened since we last met so please, sit your ass down and catch up with me will you? Cliffs notes style...

Two Saturdays ago, I got into it with the munchkin's kindergarten teacher over BATON. Yes, BATON. You see this teacher has been teaching baton since Moses was in a onesie and signs up most, if not all, her female students into baton class every year. The munchkin was not really keen on baton when I asked her about it but teacher told me that all the other girls had signed up and oh I better sign the munchkin lest she be the outcast. The munchkin continued to be neutral about baton, liking it more for the social aspect of getting together with her friends and using the batons as pretend microphones, swords, and what have you. Things came to a head when there was a 'baton competition' that the munchkin could care less about. We were there for an hour, she got bored, and we said screw it, and went to the beach before her event was up. Who knew this would get her petticoat in a bunch? I then got lectured on Monday by crazy baton teacher about failing to teach my child 'life lessons' about commitment because I pulled her out the minute she got 'uncomfortable.' The woman means well, and she is probably in her late thousands, but clearly she doesn't know her boundaries with the whole parent/teacher relationship as she reprimanded me in front of other teachers and students, INCLUDING my daughter. Sure, I'm probably a toddler in her eyes too, but please do not tell me how to parent, especially in a condescending manner, as if I'm some open mouth breather at the back of the short bus. Only my parents can do that, and they've had years of training so there's no contest.

I had to break it down for her that the munchkin did not like baton from the very beginning and if it's something that she never liked to begin with, I am not pushing my daughter to do it. Look for your pageant mom elsewhere o' wrinkly one because you won't find her here. I did it in a very polite way of course, because I respect fossils of all types, dead or alive, but still...even when I told her, I could still see that she could not wrap her head around the fact that my daughter didn't like baton. She was almost shocked. I wonder if she knows that baton is just fancy stick twirling and not ongoing research to cure cancer.

My work laptop done broke. Dog got caught up in one of the wires while he was having a spastic attack because viking husband came home. (seriously, this dog is almost 10 and still acts very much like a puppy....that's had like 10 pixie sticks). I ended up going on craigslist and found a very nice computer with a 17 inch lcd monitor for 160 bucks! The guy who sells it apparently steals buys computers in bulk from open delivery trucks offices that are going out of business. Either way, I got a great price and I blame the economy for having to go through back alley computer dealers from craigslist.

And I got a vacuum from craigslist too - normally a 200 dollar vacuum that I got for 40 bucks. It was used and missing one attachment. I was excited. Then depressed that I got excited over a vacuum cleaner. Then excited again when I began to think about how clean my rug is going to look when I use it. Then got depressed again because...well, do I really need to explain? Again, I blame the economy.

I was checking out my bangs to see if I needed to touch up my roots or if the hairstylist did indeed match my original hair color. Well she didn't - and I don't blame her because apparently, my original color is now GRAY. YES. That's right. Raise a glass of Ensure and please toast it in my honor. I found a cluster - not one or two or three - a CLUSTER, a BUSHEL, a CROWD, a HANDFUL, a DISTURBING amount of gray that had sprouted up around the front. What the fuckity fuck? I can't grow a measly three inches to be out of the 'little people' category (or an Olympic gymnast. I could have been a contender. Just sayin.. ) and somehow I have fucking gray hair. God has a sick sense of humor, I'll give him that. But I don't blame God. I blame Jenna Jameson for giving me a horrible visual when she 'gave birth' to her twins with UFC fighter Tito Ortiz. 'Giving birth" as in I picture the doctor walking into her twat garage and walking out with two bobbleheaded babies. I think I just sprouted two more gray hairs just typing about it.

I hate people who add me on as a facebook friend and can't be bothered to say "hi" on my wall after I add them. If you just want to be a snoop then at least be honest. Leave me a note like; "hey I don't really give a shit about what's going on in your life, I just wanted to see if you had gotten fat since high school and how fucked up your life is. Don't mind me. Just add me as a friend and kill the curiosity will ya?"
That I can respect. And I would most definitely add you. (Then delete you later after I'd taken a gander at your pictures). Fair is fair when it comes to facebook.

Other than that, more mundane stuff that's so beyond mundane that I can't even write about it here without feeling completely guilty that I'm subjecting you to such crap. (plus if you're really interested in my need to put Nutella on everything, at all hours of the day, just look at my twitter posts. I tweet mundane crap at least twice a day.)

Who needs a vacation? That would be yours truly.

I Had A Pre-Pubescent Mustache - True Tales From Unfortunate Girl.

When I'm not diligently working, sometimes....SOMETIMES....on occasion ... - I'll take a peek onto Facebook and just browse around for like five minutes before going back to work. Although Facebook must have some sort of weird energy field because whenever I go on there, my clocks go haywire and by the time I get back to work, it says I've been there for a half an hour.

So weird.

Lately these Facebook friends, most of them old high school peeps, have started posting photos from when we were back in high school or even as far back as Jr. High or Elementary. I don't know who started it, but it caught on like wildfire - that even I got swept up in the commotion and posted a few. Thankfully, I wasn't really a part of the 'popular group' and I was an unfortunate looking child that no one was lining up to take a picture of, so I knew that there wouldn't be a lot of old pictures coming back to haunt me on Facebook - my best friend Judy might have a few she could blackmail me with but she is without a personal computer right now so I posted my collection indiscriminately, feeling confident it wouldn't come back and bite me in the ass.

However, it did come back and bite me in the ass when I woke up this morning and saw that old h.s. chum, Sherri, had tagged me on two pictures titled 'Back in the day..'

CRAAAAAAAP.

And OF COURSE - one of them was from Jr. High. when my appearance resembled that of the transgendered variety. And while it's true that everyone looks dorky in Jr. High, most people at least still represented their gender whereas I think in this picture, I had the makings of what appears to be a light mustache. Fabulous. Thank god I didn't smile or you would have seen my grill in all their crooked pre-braces glory.

It briefly made me want to go back in time and give that little boy a hug and tell her it'll be okay, you get amazing boobs junior year! For reals! And you'll start looking like an actual girl by the time college rolls around! And for the love of Nair - wax that caterpillar off your lip!

Those awkward years sure are the best. Especially when they last well into high school!

Moving right along, sorry I haven't blogged in what seems like forever - there has really been nothing going on as of late, just the usual life; although I am getting ready to do my audition tape for the Australia job and again, I hope you come out in droves and score me five stars after you see it so I may get the gig, pee in my pants with excitement and postpone the move to MISERY (Missouri) if only for 6 months.

I'm sure you've heard of all the hubbub about Britney's new song coming out called If You Seek Amy. And while I agree that it is an inappropriate song to be playing during the day when children can sing along to it - (particularly MINE - lately, the munchkin belts Heartless by Kanye in the car with full abandon.) - I'm REALLY surprised that other lyrics haven't been called into question - not so much for their profanity but more for their stupidity. One particular lyric I had in mind was from Sean Kingston's song, Take You There:

We can go to the tropics, sip pina coladas, shorty I could take you there, or we can go to the slums, where killers get hung, shorty I could take you there.

Clearly the obvious choice is number two, - who wants a boring ol Pina Colada when you can get a front row ticket to a hanging! It's so retro, so Salem Witch Trial chic! I'm only disappointed that Sean didn't offer me a starring role in a snuff film.

Another lyric is Lil Wayne's song Lollipop. Now I could go on and on about Lil' Wayne and his no rhymin' ass - I don't care how great of a rapper you think are when you start singing rhyming words by mixing up your Scrabble game pieces, you've got problems:

I told her back it up like burp burp and make that ass jump like shczerp shczerp.

Now, before I go off about this - is Lil' Wayne a Lil' Slow? Because if he is, then I can almost excuse that lyric otherwise, what exactly is he talking about? Are they having sexual relations or is he having an intervention at a buffet? And how does one make ones ass jump like 'shczerp shczerp?' Inquiring minds want to know because at best my ass can twitch and flap but only when I've eaten some bad Mexican food and there's no restrooms available.

I know - I'm just babbling aren't I? Too bad, the bell doesn't dismiss you, I DO.

Okay, you're excused.

Have a great weekend!

YOU AIN'T READY FOR THIS YELLOW FEVAAH!!!

I think from now on, I'm going to title all my vlogs: SORRY.
Sorry Episode 1, Sorry Episode 2, Sorry Episode 3, and so on, because that's what they are.
Click below and witness my downward spiral and addiction to caffeine.
In this episode, I talk about why I'm vlogging, I talk about a few celebrities I can't stop thinking about, I talk about America's Next Top Model and I attempt to be funny and quote Billy Ocean and screw it all up because I went too long in between talking without taking a swig of my coffee. Also, in my next Vlog I will be inviting my Irish/Scottish cousin (who looks a lot like me) to answer any and all your love questions - the wackier and more made up, the better. So please leave a question in my comment box. Plus I need something to break the monotony of me yammering on and on and on.

So go ahead, click below and start your weekend off on the wrong foot. And for Jali who couldn't see my video last time, here's a link. ;p

Five Minutes of Complete Drivel By Yours Truly...

And please note that I accomplished 500 facial expressions in just five minutes. That's like a record or something right? Oh and this goes without saying but this Vlog was totally caffeine induced. I love you Folgers.

Crickets Chirping....

If I was a reality show, I would have been cancelled right now. I have no drama. Everything is busy, but otherwise dandy and well.........The End. I'm not complaining..I'm just saying that if a producer took a gander at our storyline it would look something like this:

Cameras set up 4:00 am. Midget wakes up at 5:00 am.

5:15 am: Midget Sr. brushes her teeth, makes coffee, starts her work and kisses Viking hubby goodbye.
6:00 am: Works out.....halfheartedly, glances often at the time.
7:00 am: Midget Jr. wakes up. Both midgets eat breakfast. Usually cereal or oatmeal. Midget Sr. can't cook for shit.
7:30 am: Midget Sr. takes shower while Midget Jr. plays in her room and occasionally throws open the shower curtain to freeze out Midget Sr. Midget Jr. laughs hysterically while Midget Sr. quietly curses Viking hubby for teaching Midget Jr. how to screw with mommy.
(Audio Visual: please note to BLUR out Midget Sr. from video footage while in shower...stock up on Vaseline)
8:15 am: Making the beds and giving the bedroom a good once over cleaning while singing a horrible rendition of Alicia Key's "Fallin." Occasional break for impromptu dance and hand waving during the high notes. Midget Jr. tells "mommy, please NO sing anymore!"
8:45 am: Work while Midget Jr. requests to watch the Spongebob movie for the hundreth time. Midget Jr. sings Spongebob theme song loudly, while Midget Sr. whispers it while working.
9:30 am: Midgets go for a walk. Midget Sr. attempts to say hello to everyone she passes during the walk, then curses them for being "rude motherbleepers" under her breath when they don't say hello back. Midget Jr. happily chews on her gummy Flinstone vitamin and drinks her apple juice in her stroller..oblivious to mommy's attempts to be "neighborly."
10:15 am: Return to the house. Do household errands, laundry (yuk), mop floors, vacuum, trash, groceries..all errands done while singing horrific renditions of Abba songs (Take a Chance on Me, Dancing Queen remix) and really bad Krumping dance breaks while mopping the floor and singing one of Sean Paul's unintelligible yet catchy reggaetone tunes. Midget Jr. adopts a "if you can't beat em, join em" attitude and encourages Midget Sr.'s actions by singing and krumping along.
11:00 am: neighbors call the cops. Just kidding.......


....from this point on its just a lot of the same thing, mailing out bills, working, playing, bad singing and really BAD dancing with a nap thrown in there somewhere. I'm pretty sure the Producer of my show would walk out of his office in disgust and immediately get in the unemployment line.
I might not make for a very exciting reality show, but I think I would totally be great for background t.v....like those dvds that show swimming fish, lava lamps, pizza in the microwave? They wouldn't even have to put in a soundtrack because I already provide it...with some hardcore krumping too! Oh yeah, my dvd would be totally be a hot seller.

Now if you'll excuse me, I have to write this down on my list of million dollar ideas.


THE MIDGET SHOW!!!