Doc will tell me that I need to put a different CD in my car stereo because I've been listening to the Dead Kennedys' Frankenchrist album too much. I can't help it, it's good fun for the whole family; that is if the family has a lot of contempt for the conservative socio-political culture of the mid-1980s. If not, I suppose it's less family fun and more Minxy-driving-to-work fun.
Speaking of work, I'm currently debating whether or not to go for this full-time position at my current place of employment. Sure, it would be more money and responsibility, and I'm very, very qualified for it, but I also fear rejection, especially if it's paired with being told that I'm not good or experienced enough for the position when I know full well that I am. Hence, the debate. Poop.
I just finished reading one of Dooce's recent posts, which linked to one of her posts at another site. They were about the rise and subsequent fall of Britney Spears. Dooce was brave and opened comments and I wrote a somewhat lengthy one right before this. Now, I have no interest in talking about Britney Spears' current life situation (since I did that already ad nauseum), but I do have a couple of things to say about my own comment. Sometimes, I'll re-read something I wrote and I'll think to myself: Did I just write that? Did I really just express that thought so well that I didn't even realize that it was in my head that way? Seriously, sometimes I amaze myself with my own words...in a good way, that is. Of course, there are more times where I amaze myself with the lack of coolness in my writing, kind of like now. I think I used up all my god writing on a site that's not even my own. Again, I say poop.
Thursday, June 15, 2006
I feel so bad...I haven't had a whole lot to talk about on ye olde blog lately, so I've been leaving nothing here. Not that anyone but Bunny and Doc ever reads my words of non-wisdom, but still I feel like I'm letting my blog down. How freakin' bizarre is that? Guilt over not typing on something I'm not really required to type on...why do I feel guilty for this? I have no clue.