Hey, random Canadian!

Okay, I just have to ask. Person in Montreal, who ARE you? Why do you spend so much time reading my site? I see you in my stats every week, and you spend HOURS reading my blog – at 800 x 600 resolution! I just have to know. Feel free to comment here, or if you’re shy, send me an email. lalagirl at gmail dot com.

I’m crabby on the internets today.

I’m thinking that I’m spending too much time online. The free time I have is so precious and rare, and it feels like too much of it is frittered away on Google Reader, Twitter, and Facebook. I’ve been finding myself annoyed at things online that never bothered me before, which tells me…might be time to step away from my electronic friend.

Here’s what’s been bugging me. And, if you’re someone who does any of this, please don’t feel like I’m singling you out – I’m not at all. This isn’t a passive aggressive attempt to let someone know I’m annoyed with them. Just my own bitchiness. Okay, here we go. In random order: Things Annoying Me On The Internet!

• RSS feeds that only show you a snippet of the post. Why even bother having a feed, really? If your post is amazing, hilarious, and entertains me, I WILL CLICK THROUGH AND COMMENT ON IT. I promise. But I don’t like feeling like I HAVE TO click through, just to read what you have to say.
• Lengthy posts, which go into dramatic detail about how someone’s been wronged by someone else – with absolutely no detail at all about the situation itself or the parties involved. Especially when these posts are a regular feature. I want to support you, I do, but I have no idea if someone killed your relative or just cut you off in traffic.
• Posts which invoke the LOLCATS style of writing. I just find myself annoyed by this NOW, but it didn’t bother me a couple of years ago. Maybe it’s played out. Maybe I’m played out. I’m not sure.
• Updates on Twitter that don’t make sense. I mean, I know there’s a story there. You just aren’t effectively conveying it in 160 characters. Nice try, though! Just…write a blog post. Then link to it on Twitter. I’ll go read it! I will!
• Pairing Twitter and Facebook, so that every single Tweet updates on Facebook as well. I used to do this, and it annoyed ME to see MY OWN crap all over my Facebook page. It annoys me more to see other people’s stuff. Not that you aren’t awesome and cool, but it’s two separate audiences, in a lot of cases. If we’re friends on both places, I don’t really want to read that update twice. And if we’re friends on FB only, I’m not interested in your “retweet” when it appears on Facebook. I can’t click on your @so-and-so and see who they are from Facebook. And you’re probably talking about something that your Facebook friends don’t even care about. If you’re doing this, consider using the Selective Twitter app for Facebook. You just need to add “#fb” to the end of your Tweet, and it will appear on Facebook. Otherwise, it just stays on Twitter.
• Blog content which is comprised only of Flickr photos, Yelp reviews, memes using Mr. Linky, plugs for contests, sponsored content, and your Twitter feed. Not that there’s anything wrong with any of those things. But, please: celebrate this medium! Write a heartfelt, actual post once in awhile. Share some of your true self. Your readership will love you for it.

Again, wanted to state for the record: I’m not singling out ANYONE, either obviously, or passive aggressively. This isn’t about you. It’s about everyone. And I love everyone! I’m just crabby today, and wanted to put it out there!

Why I Can’t Get Anything Done.

Video Post Alert! I’d like to share with you why it’s so hard to get anything done when you’re THE MOMMY. Check it out!

What’s with the chonies?

Every day, I pick my kids up from elementary school, and almost every day, we spend the next 45 minutes on the playground, killing time before it’s time to pick up my oldest from middle school. So, I do a whole lot of people watching, and I eavesdrop on other parents’ conversations, and occasionally, I have a fabulous conversation of my very own! (And I live for those days. I have to contain myself, so I don’t jump up and down clapping, and saying things like, “You’re paying attention to me! You’re letting me into your mommy clique! You’re considering inviting me to bunco, aren’t you? Yay!”)

Today, I watched a guy having a whole lot of fun with his kids. And actually? I’m not fully convinced they were his kids. I’m guessing they were his nephews. Actual dads are not usually so enthusiastic about playing with their children, and they usually embrace the caregiver role in such a way that they, y’know, lead by example. They don’t wobble and shake the entire play structure by walking across the top of the monkey bars. They don’t climb up the outside tube of the slide, 12 feet up off the ground. And they generally don’t show up saggin’ in sweat pants that only cover the bottom half of their ass.

This guy looked like he was having a lot of fun. I watched as he chased a pair of boys all over the playground, up the slide, through tunnels, across bridges, and around posts – pausing momentarily to hitch his pants back up about every minute. At one point, his pants FELL DOWN TO HIS KNEES! The only thing separating his pale white ass and the rest of the playground was a pair of white boxers. And even when his pants weren’t down around his knees, they were still…um…sort of showing off the goods, y’know? Hell, he could even stand to go up a size in the t-shirt. Cover that shit UP, Li’l Kim – the kids are watching!

Pretty house, huh?

You’d never guess that a TOTAL DICK lives here, would you?

We were parked in front of his house today, and when the kids and I were heading back to our vehicle today after school, he had just finished mowing that beautifully green lawn. His lawnmower was in the street about six inches in front of my bumper, and he was using a high pressure sprayer with his hose to clean the grass clippings off the mower. So, between the hose blocking the sidewalk, the loud FWOOOSH! of the water going everywhere, and the lawnmower itself, which he kept turning on, Pablo was a little freaked out.

I smiled at the man and asked, “Excuse me, could we just get by real quick so we can get in the car?” and he sighed heavily, turned off the hose, and motioned for us to go ahead. The hose was still draped in front of the sidewalk, though, and Pablo was freaked out by it – he was sort of fighting with me a little when I tried to grab his hand, and this guy said…

“Go! Go! What is his PROBLEM, ANYWAY?”

I said, “Actually, he doesn’t have a problem. He has autism. And he’s scared of loud noises.” The guy said, “Oh.”

Things I didn’t do, but wanted to:

• Ask, “What is YOUR PROBLEM, YOU GIANT DOUCHE?”
• Pick up the gas can from the lawn mower and use it to spell out “PABLO IS AWESOME” in his pretty grass
• Mention what a great time it is to buy a house, and how he might want to consider finding one that isn’t next to an elementary school
• Drive across his lawn as I pulled away
• Back over that damned lawnmower in my big SUV

Things I did do:

• Drove by his house after I picked up Kayley from school, so I could stop in the middle of the street and take a picture with my cell phone, so I could bitch about it on the internet.
• Felt really pissed off, because these things NEVER HAPPEN TO PAUL. The kinds of people who have no trouble at all being downright cruel to a 5-year-old child and his mommy walking down the street wouldn’t say SHIT to Paul if they had a mouthful of it. Ugh. I hope that guy catches herpes from a toilet seat.

Next Page »