Monthly Archives: November 2008

Aaaand CUT!

I’m sorry, NaBloPoMo, but I’m totally not going to miss you.   Last year I enjoyed it, found some new blogs, etc. etc.  This year it felt like a chore.  Apparently I only like to make crazy commitments once, ie: … Continue reading

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3 minutes

I’m sorry, internet!  I’m offering nothing of substance!   (Of course, that does not make me special as far as the internet goes.)

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Being Paul Cezanne

on a sidewalk will totally kill your quads and you will be sore for like 5 days. (Photo links to a flickr photostream. Thanks, stranger, for taking a picture of me.)

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Again, with the last-minute posting…

3 minutes until I have to post.  As well as Apple’s 1-day-a-year sale.  Actually, that might be west coast time . . . Oh well. Thanksgiving was perfect.  Brunch with family, then a true homemade t-giving dinner with friends, followed … Continue reading

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It's late . . .

So watch this.

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I Can Quit Anytime

In the last few days I’ve been accused of having a Twitter addiction by 3 people.   To which I replied, “SO?” It may be true, but I will point out that my accusers don’t actually use Twitter.  My Twitter … Continue reading

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Bye Bye Bushie

So I’ve been thinking about a way to Twitter this, but I don’t think I can get it across clearly in 140 characters or less. On the radio or television, whenever I hear the word “President” it’s usually followed by … Continue reading

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It would have been more appropriate to write this when the sun was in Scorpio

Day 5. On the retreat, I mentioned that they have a pagoda for old students to meditate in. After Day 4, they move the old students upstairs while the new students get the downstairs cells. Upstairs was much better because … Continue reading

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I

pretty much want to throw this whole blogging every day thing out the window.  Not really, just today.  I’m not feeling reflective at the moment.  Apologies.

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T. to the M. to the I.

So I’ve reached another milestone of adulthood: my first urinary tract infection. I know about the benefits of peeing after sex because Dooce told me about it. And so I ALWAYS do.  Every time.  So imagine my confusion when I … Continue reading

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