My husband’s best friend is a guy named Ian.

He is one of the most reliable people I have ever met, and he’s an awesome friend.  He’s also a freak of nature.

Have a package of three-month-old, slightly green cocktail weenies?  Yeah, he’ll eat ‘em.  And live.

Need a washing machine carried upstairs?  He’ll do it.  By himself.  And then go do some push-ups just for the hell of it.

He and hubby used to intimidate the hell out of all those guys at the gym who walk around all buff but who really got that way from drinking protein shakes and lifting sissy weights – yeah, Ian and hubby would be pumping 400+ pounds on the bench press.

Anyway, so Ian has always been into martial arts, and in the last year or so he has really gotten into competing in amateur MMA.  His ultimate goal is to go pro with the UFC.

So far, his record is 4-0, all wins in the first round.  Here is the vid of his last fight, on November 21st.  You can see a red wrap around his left leg – that’s from slamming it into the corner of a wall during practice a few weeks ago.  His whole leg and foot are swollen; hubs says it’s probably fractured.  And he still kicked the other guy’s ass.

This is the Meme of Indescribable Awesomeness.   I totally did my picture based on the MacGyver pilot.  We’ve just started watching season 1 at home.  It is freaking PERFECT.  There is seriously nothing better in life than watching RDA sneak up on some communists wearing a bright red beanie and blue boots.  Oh, and he’s totally a man-whore.

I crushed hard when I was younger.  You can check out the episode on IMDB.

Click on the picture to make it bigger.

Peek-A-Boo!

I just now (as in about thirty seconds ago) made a ridiculously unrealistic and probably very stupid goal: I am going to start shopping my first novel around at the beginning of the new year.

That’s 35 days away.

I think it’s even more insane than trying to write a novel in 30 days.  Because I have to take that novel I already wrote, and re-write it.  To make it actually good, you know?

What I have now, it’s like one of those books that they release to go along with movies, like basically the script of “He said this, she said that, so-and-so looked over here.”  There is no pop, no pizazz (except maybe the sex scenes, they are actually pretty good already).  Those books suck.

So I have to go back and give my novel some oomph!  In just over a month …

But, you know what?  I’m going to do it.  Because writing has been my dream for like, ever.  Or since 8th grade, same difference.

And because I’m a wiener winner.  NaNo says so:

Or I might just sleep.  We’ll see.

So, I’ve been busy.

Not with anything interesting, though, so I haven’t had any real blog-fodder.

And my medication isn’t working.  Which pretty much means that my brain isn’t working.  All that come are angry rants, and that really isn’t what I want my blog to be.

Here are the “highlights” of my oh-so-exotic life, recorded for reference in case I ever get around to my whole “overcoming personal suckiness” planning.

• I’m nearly done knitting the coolest gift ever for my mom’s birthday: just have to finish piecing it together.  I’ll post pics after I give it to her in Florida.  Also, I have decided (again), that I’m not doing Christmas knitting anymore.  Everyone sucks.  So there.
• We saw Trans Siberian Orchestra last weekend.  AWESOME.  We even got an extra show, in that the lady sitting in front of us totally thought she was at a Barney concert.  You know how the little kids on Barney rock side to side and kind of clap their hands?  Yeah, that was her, listening to the “I love you, you love me” song in her head.  Absolutely hilarious.
• I lost over two hours of my life yesterday to New Moon.  There really isn’t anything else to say about it.
• @TheBloggess is following me on Twitter!  How cool is that?  I tell you, it made up for the crappy movie, for sure!
• I’m sick.  It started with a sore throat yesterday, and today I’ve been all groggy and getting hot sweats and cold chills.  Unfortunately, it doesn’t usually get a whole lot worse than this, so I never really have a good excuse to get out of things.  Which means that I’ll be all kinds of miserable at Thanksgiving dinner tomorrow.  Joy.

Tonight I’m going to try to set up my phone for Tweets, so that I’ll have the option of sharing tomorrow’s conversation.  Because I’m sure there will be lots of fodder around the table.

Hope everyone has a safe and happy holiday!

Yeah, so I know that I said I would write a post on Friday, but then I didn’t because it was Friday the 13th, and I’m slightly superstitious and I couldn’t think of anything to write that would appease the bad-luck fairies, so I just didn’t post anything.

And then I got really into writing my book for NaNo, and I just didn’t feel like posting.  And I still don’t feel like posting because I seriously just wrote like, 25,000 words over the last 4 days, and I’m worded out.

But, I just had to come over here (because this is my blog, bitches, and I can) and say:

WOO HOO!

I finished my novel – 50,077 words, and I’m not adding a damn thing to it until it’s time to edit.  Suck that, writer’s block!

Also, I need to edit my theme so that there is more space between paragraphs.  Just so you know.

Does anybody else think that WordPress is being ass-holey when you go to edit a post and at first the only thing that pops up are the red underlines showing you that you misspelled something?  Like, rub it in WP.

Oh, and your spell-checker, WordPress?  It thinks that WordPress is spelled wrong.

It’s a good thing that you dumb this shit down so nicely for me, or we’d be getting a divorce.

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I’ll try to make a real post tomorrow.

Depression enjoys surprising me.

It’s like, you find out about this really great contest with some fabulous prize at the end, and the rules are that you have to work really hard at something, or maybe lots of somethings.  And then you complete whatever and you go to the address where you can pick up your prize, and then the door opens, and

BAM!

You just get a big fat kick in the face.

I’ve been doing really well, getting things accomplished and trying new things.  Maybe I haven’t been getting everything done, but way more than I usually do.  But that doesn’t matter right now, because I’m in a dark, dark place and can’t see my way out.

One of the worst things?  Depression likes to steal away remembered joys.  It takes a happy event or accomplishment and makes you think, “Well, that wasn’t really as good as I thought it was, and I should have done this and this differently, and I bet everyone was just being nice to me so they didn’t hurt my feelings, but they really think that I’m a moron.”

And then, it’s so easy, so tempting, just to think, “Why bother?”  If everything is going to suck anyway, at one time or another, then what is the point of even trying?

Everyone tells me just to keep moving forward, that things will get better eventually, but sometimes I just can’t believe that.

Why does everything have to be so hard?

I told my husband that I wanted him to woo me again.

He said, “Woo, wooooo!”  Just like a train.

It wasn’t what I had in mind, but I laughed my ass off anyway.

I still expect woo-age.

Or: Why I Finally Learned Twatter Twitter

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Recently – and I mean recent relative to how long it takes for me to see a thing and actually respond to it – The Bloggess, whose great and terrifying blogging powers have inspired an entire generation of young narcissists, she called me an ASSHOLE.

It’s true.  You can read about it here.

It made me cry.  It made me want to crawl into a dark, muddy little hole and never come out, except if I did that she would think I was even more of an asshole because I still wouldn’t respond to her tweets.

“But Bloggess!” I cried in despair, “I don’t even know how to use Twitter!”

The Bloggess was unsympathetic to my excuses.

So I decided I must learn, in order to please the majestic, magnificent, the Holy Bloggess.

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I shit you not, Twitter confused the hell out of me.  I would hear all these ads or whatever about so-and-so being on the Big T, so I would go to www.twitter.com to find out what they were saying.  And then the only thing on the page is some search bar and you type in the name of the person that you are looking for and all the results would be about that person instead of that person’s tweets.  And so I was like, screw this, and basically ignored anything with a little blue bird.

Until The Bloggess called me an asshole, that is, and then I made it my goal to learn how to use Twitter.

And now, I still don’t really know how to use it because I got tired of reading all the FAQs and shit but I have an account.  I might even use it.  Or I might just follow cool people.  Who can say?

I must first say that I FUCKING LOVE Photoshop.  It totally makes it possible to post my pics without looking like a beluga whale.

Here are the costumes I made to wear to my BILs’ party last Saturday:

Mine:

The Necromancer

His:

The Mummy

Yes, that is a Star of David around my husband’s neck. For some reason, he had to be a Jewish mummy.  He had a yarmulke too.  And he won the costume contest, which means that I won the contest.

And we won at beer pong, and it was my first time ever playing.  I totally kicked ass on Halloween.