I don't like the title anymore...

Okay, so after a little investigating and answering the "are you human" question wrong repeatedly, I get an email that says my username on livejournal is "dork_life."

What?

Yeah. That needs to be changed. Then, I read through a few entries, (some of which still make me laugh, and yes I do make myself laugh a lot) and come across the horribly depressing ones about my birth mom. Just in case anyone is wondering, I'm okay. Didn't cut myself, run into a truck, or any other catastrophe, contrary to the feeling some of those posts project. Initially, I thought I'd delete those too and change that. But then again, isn't that the point in blogging? To look back and smile or cry. To remember something forgotten, to be able to think to yourself "glad as hell that's over"...

I'll keep them there for now.

Lots of updates in my life and I promised myself I'd write about everything. Seriously though, I need to figure out how to change that dork_life thing. That's so not cool...

Just don't know who to send it to yet ;)

[CHORUS]
When my mind's void
You're my joy
You're the dream when I sleep
And hey I'm for ya yeah I adore ya
you're everything
That I need
And I love how you love me
If I'm made for you
you're made for me
It's too good to be
So tell me what we're gonna do now
Yeah tell me what we're gonna do now
yeah yeah

That's style...

the rockin princess belly shirt,

dalmation print leggings tucked inside pink cowboy boots.

Can't wait til she's 16 and sees this...

I haven't been the same since they found her. I won't ever be the same.

They say, "I'm glad you're better..."

I'm not better.

"I'm so glad you're okay."

I'm not okay.

I am a complete mess. And unfortunately, since you can't un-find someone, I don't expect the mess to go away.

I lost something I never had. And won't have.
Something I wanted and wished for, no matter how much my mouth said it didn't matter.

My only choice is to just keep...whatever, I don't know what it is that I'm doing.

I try to be for Chloe.

But, no. I'm so not better.

"Life has kind of stopped all of a sudden," I told him. And it did. I can't really tell if it has started moving again. It doesn't feel like it.

Life didn't really stop. MY life stopped. Everything else was and is moving as usual. I forgot what I was doing...and why. Like my spirit was hovering-except I wasn't dead.

I'm pretty sure it happens to everyone. That one word, incident, person that makes you just want to sit and stare at the wall. Don't say anything. Don't hear anything. Don't think. Just stare. Let the world keep moving. That moment when life...stops.

I was wrong. It's not an email. It's a phone call.

I was reading through the other entries and noticed that I have a few writing related problems.

1. Hella run on sentences.
2. I think paragraphs are supposed to be around 5 sentences and I have a few that look like 10.
3. I seem drunk, on drugs (I will change the "medicated" mood one day), stupid or crazy.
4. An abundance of commas. But, in my defense, a comma is used for pausing, right? I am literally pausing every time you see a comma. That's how I speak sometimes. Again, problem number 3.

That's what my daughter named the 3 goldfish. I'm not sure where the names came from, we don't know anyone named Wally, Molly OR Ollie. I'm thinking she has a knack for rhyme.

Lazy parents get goldfish for pets. So, I bought Chloe 3 goldfish from Walmart. Dear friend, if you don't get anything else out of this post...please, please, take this with you. NEVER ASK A WALMART EMPLOYEE HOW TO TAKE CARE OF FISH. As nice and friendly as she was, the Walmart lady did tell me that "yes, three goldfish will fit in that bowl--and they'll EVEN have room to grow." I happened to be holding the smallest bowl they sold. I was later told that those bowls are for betas or whatever that single fish is that kills other fish.

To shorten the beginning...2 died the next day. Obviously from an overpopulated goldfish bowl. We put the sole survivor in a big plastic thing that you buy bulk pretzels and chips in. Seemed fine (except it looked totally tacky on the living room table) and then a couple days later the water started getting REALLY smoggy and polluted looking. I bought some water clear-er stuff and the water turned purple and then a couple days later it was orange. The clear-er stuff didn't clear anything.

Would you believe Mr. (or Ms.) Sole Survivor is still alive?

Bought 3 more fish and a bigger round, less tacky fish bowl. Put the sole survivor in the small bowl by itself. Tonight I noticed one of the fish kind of paddling with one flipper. It was moving in circles and believe it or not, that dang thing was twirling like a torpedo. I have NEVER seen a fish do that. Well, I could tell it was dying. I felt bad not being able to save it. The other fish just kind of bumped it out of their way and kept eating. Isn't that how it goes? Move or get run over. I stared and watched the handicapped goldfish-so much, my 3 year old even became annoyed. It would paddle and twirl and then just lay there like it was dead. It also would suck at the foam on the top (I know, probably shouldn't be foam-I'm workin on it) instead of the food. I thought we might have something in common. I tend to run around in circles and waste my time on stupid things-like foam.

Except, I noticed it is now dead. Kind of curled up in a big comma in the bowl. The other fish are still bumping it around. There's something strange about losing that fish. Maybe because I saw it dying and couldn't help.

Although I don't know exactly who was who...rest in peace, Wally...Molly...or Ollie.

Am I the only person that thinks that two faced cow is gross? And then it was drinking milk and it looked like drool which reminded me of when I worked in an old person's home. (I know they're called Senior Rest Stops, or something).
The owners have grown attached to it and apparently don't want to sell it to the circus, which I think is awful noble of them. Far better for the two faced cow to be paraded around the farm for spectators. They could hitch a trailer and sell polaroids of two faced cow rides.

I feel bad. It has like one eye per face and two mouths. It's gross.

In China or one of those other weird countries (hehe) that thing would be a God. It would be lucky. Women would rub it's head hoping to cure infertility.

But here...it's just gross.

Okay, I thought I had to edit something. Cows DO drink milk...it's beef they don't eat...right?

Whew.

Is it useful to blog just because I haven't blogged and I don't want to be a quitter?

No...it's not useful and I'm procrastinating again. I've been planning since my 2006 New Year's resolution to write something new and not keep peddling the same stuff over and over again.

I also said I would stop surfing the internet looking for "Stupid News" stories. But, I love that stuff. Like the guy that burned his house trying to kill bees with WD40 and bee killer. Turned the thing into a flame thrower.

Or the man that killed himself with his own homemade mole killer.
Sorry, I know he's dead and I feel bad, but I feel even worse that someone would die in a way which makes people like me laugh.

Anyway, how many words is this? I think I justed wasted 500 words on Stupid News.

November 18, 2006 I started the search for my birthfamily. I officially told myself that yes, I would like to know who I look like, and no, I will not freak out.

But, I've noticed that every day since then, I've been stalking my email box. It's different from stalking the other email box. I'm okay with checking it to see what corny jokes I've been sent and occasionally waiting to hear from an editor. But, this email box, the one that I use to correspond with adoption related people, is a completely new victim of my stalking. It occurred to me today, that one day, maybe today, maybe 20 years from now, I will open an email message and it will say one of the following things that will end my birthfamily search:

We've found her.
We've found them.
We've found someone that wants to speak with you.
We've found someone but they didn't want to be found.

I think about how my birthmother probably moved on with her life, has a family, a husband, other children. If she's anything like me, she hasn't told anyone about the child she put up for adoption 33 years ago. (It's not dishonest. I wouldn't mention it either.) If she's anything like me, she doesn't want to be found.

I promised myself I wouldn't freak out. I have a family. I have a mother and father and sister and brother. What else is there?

After checking the email box for the third time this evening, though, I wonder. Maybe I'm freaking out.

Oh my gosh, it's hella cold here. And what's worse, you really can't complain about the coldness because the locals look at you as if they want to say, "well go back to your own freaking country then". So...yeah, it's cold.

I logged on primarily to add that I do plan on posting a pic. Soon as I find the one that makes me look like one of the Desperate Housewives. Okay, ain't gonna happen, but I do plan on taking a pic with my daughter. Probably one that will make me look like a sane, sensible...normal person.

Then I thought it would be funny to put a pic of Kim Jong Il and say it was me. Might be deported for that, though. Better not.

Started a birthfamily search. Will comment on that later, but since my real parents might be royalty or famous movie stars, or bazillionaires I should stop posting stuff about Brangelina buying different colored babies. Don't want to insult anyone, so I take it back.

I wonder if their friends call them Brangelina. My friends' names don't go together like that so it wouldn't work for me. For instance, Sue and George would be Sorge or Gue. Completely imaginary friends' names by the way, but nope, it wouldn't work for me. Jack and Rosie=Josie or Rack. No, no couple would want to be referred to as Rack. Won't work.

I promised myself I wouldn't let this blog end up to be just a passing fancy. (Is that the right phrase?) And since I fully intended on working on something writing related-well, this is writing and it counts, right?

Anyway, I just added my first friend from my writing group. I think someone should tell the LiveJournal people that listing the maintenance crew and people I don't know as friends is NOT encouraging. Okay, maybe it is in a way. I have to admit, when I looked at ljmaintenance on my friend list, I thought. Gosh Loser, find some friends.

So I let my writing group in and I have a REAL friend.

But, yes, I'm still talking to myself.

I love this bloggy thing.

And, yes, I think I picked the ugliest setting that LJ has. It was called Punquin something. It looked like PUNKIN to me, which I thought was funny. But, oh my gosh it's disgusting. I think I'll leave it.

Okay, so maybe this is why I'm here in Minnesota. Chloe and her dad made a snowman this morning while I was at work.



And here it is again. I suppose husband was too tired from working the night before to know you probably shouldn't build a snowman on the deck. He said it looked like a dog. I don't see it.

I've been wondering more and more what the hell I was thinking when I moved here. This town has 800 or 900 people and I've only seen like 4 that weren't related to me. There's a bunch of bars and a really disgusting grocery store and then a whole bunch of nothing. No one cares about anything but hunting and farming. I just happen to be interested in neither, and hunting is on my list of things NOT to ever do. Anyway, after that asian guy sniped all of those hunters I don't think anyone would be excited to see me prancing out there with a rifle (or whatever kind of gun they use).
I'll have to cover the farming thing later.

But, luckily *I* work in the BIG city. I don't know maybe 4000? I should check sometime. If I hope to ever be considered a local I damned well better brush up on some facts.

I write for children and should be working on something. Scary, I know. Especially since the last thing I wrote was absolutely hideous. I will post it sometime, there's no chance of it ever going anywhere anyway. I laughed my butt right out of my chair when I wrote it and no, I wasn't drunk. Now when I look at it, it's like something a weird, unstable 3rd grader would write. One that would be referred for some kind of evaluation. It's horrible. Can't believe I ever sold anything sometimes. Maybe the editors just bought the stuff hoping I would go away. I don't know.

I need to sleep. This blogging thing is too weird. It's like talking to myself. That's weird...isn't it?

I have always wanted to blog and there's a reason I haven't (I'll get to that later). The only reason I have started now is because I wanted to post this...who in the hell licked that $200,000.00 stamp and mailed it on an absentee ballot? Do people have so much stinking money, they don't even notice the difference between a normal 2006 stamp and a stamp printed incorrectly in some year before we even had good graphics. (BTW, whoever you are, current stamps are not that strange, old brownish yellowish color.)I think it was some old man somewhere that was so worried about voting that he just broke the glass on the stamp case, licked it and mailed it. After all, admitting to someone that you didn't vote is like admitting that you have on the same underwear you wore yesterday. But Jesus, (forgive me Jesus)the stamp even looks old. It could've been from 1987 and I would've kept it just because it looked old. Dammit! I don't have a stamp collection but I needed that stamp...

Anyway...there is only one thing that has stopped me from blogging in the past. It was the fear that someone will read what I've written and find out something secret about me. Except I am not important enough that anyone really cares about any of my secrets (I don't think). People are much more interested in what color kid Brad and Angelina are going to buy next and other important stuff. Plus everyone that knows me already knows I'm a dork. I'm okay with that right now and if it changes later and I decide to act like a normal person...well, I hope I can change my user name.

I gotta go check all my stamps for oldness.