New Account Thought

I happened to be on twitter (don't judge me) and FAT AMY @RelatableQuote said something to the effect of messing up her life and wanted to find information or a way to get a new account (life).  It was meant as a poke at society for fun, yes I know, but...

I laughed and laughed and laughed.

It made me go check out the profile page for Fat Amy ... and laughed some more because Fat Amy wanted to be sure we knew that was not her name...(I knew it wasn't but I'll bet a ton of idiots made that statement absolutely HAVE to be there) ...

Laugh Laugh.  Not at the profile, but the gears it made turn.  Wow.

The irony is that none of our accounts are the real us.  They represent who we are for a small period of time.. and no matter where we try to delete or redo, we were still there.  Evidence planted and noted.  It stinks not to be able to be truly anonymous or start over.  Truth is world:  Only the Holy trinity of credit score Gods really knows who you are, where you've been, how long and just how bad you messed it up.  

No new accounts, as all is remembered.  Every name, date, place and time.  You think seven years right?  The Gods forget after that.  Sadly...nooooooo...

The IRS takes up where the seven year clause leaves off.  Eternal purgatory for some, hell for others... it depends on perspective and whether or not we really need a house, vehicle, apartment, license, insurance or job...

New accounts...

May monkeys fly out of my butt (with a 1099 Form).

My Adobe Plumbing

Holy crap.

Adobe used to be a color.

It used to be a type of siding one can cover their home in.

I also believed in older times these homes were found in hot places.

Now it has become a monster that I need classes to pixelate pictures and fix them.

And I'm not into construction...(Old Distinguished Ken does that)

Or so I thought...(sh*t)

I should stop on the thinking part.

It gives me ideas.

I want to tear out Old Adobe 6 and load 10 and I can't unclog with un-installation.

Ankle deep in the new cosmopolitan color form.

See ya, off to find the plunger or a grenade launcher.

When Trying to Outsmart the Weasel Makes One A Sheep

Geeesh.

I have a new Samsung phone that likes to download everything onto my phone, including Picasa.  So I went into Picasa and tried to get it to not show anything.

And that screwed my blog.

Sorry for the bullcrap people.

Still learning.

and Tweaking.

and the Weasel in me is squeaking.

at least it only took ten minutes of higher brain function to figure out.... *sigh*

Realizing When to say When already Passed Me By

As I go through my day to day life and attempt balancing things out, the equation keeps falling short.  What I am angry about is the part of the equation I'm supposed to get right all the time, the constants, so to speak.  That would be me.

I keep messing up in the department of when and when not to be of a sharing sort.  I see more and more that sharing simply does not mean the same to most people.  Pretty much I am the sharer.  Everyone else just takes.

Seems like a cruel notion to think all my friends think I'm an endless supply of provisions.  I'll leave the provisional noun as-is because its just downright making me angry to see where things go.

Out of my pocket.  Not to be replaced or enriched by the goodness of others.

I solemnly commit to myself that in the next month that I am going to be absolutely grinchy.

It stinks to look at my calendar and see that the times I've been called by people never involve just seeing me or talking to me.  There has been an underlying current of calculation that slaps me in the face with the audacity of it all.

If you must wonder what I'm being all bitchy about, email me, and I'll 'fill' you in... if it's within date.  *get it?*

Mystery Sobbed.. Solved

My puffer fish jumped out of the tank through the back, a space he should not have been able to fit though.

And I'm so upset.

I loved that fish.

My dear husband had to get up to take care of him because I couldn't.

Plumbing the Depths of Fish Tank and I'm Puffer-less

What does this mean?  I like to think I have very own personal world peace in 36 gallons.  I do think this most of the time.  Right now though, I'm chewing my nails because I am missing a fish.  Not just any fish.  Not some little small thing.  NO.  I'm missing my puffer fish.  And I'm frantic.

Can't find him anywhere.  There are so many places a fish can hide, you know.  I found out just recently that this certain fish can get depressed.  People tell me he's in there.  The shrimp isn't hovering like he found a dead something.  The crabs aren't talking.

No fish.  I'm so scared he jumped out.  I refused to be attached to any other fish in the tank.  And you know what?  They are still there.  The new Harlequin shrimp?  Still alive, and bigger than last week.  Twice as big it seems.

No, the one fish I can talk to and that actually interacts goes missing.  If I find a smelly smell that smells smelly... I'll be devastated.

Really.