Finally, I finished a long-standing work project that had been dragging on for over a week or two.  The delay was my fault along with my ear infection's fault ... really, it was a combined effort, perfect storm sort of thing.  While I do need to get onto the next thing, I may actually have a day of breathing ahead of me, which is a rare thing indeed.

Today, I'm mostly annoyed by anything that would go into this blog, as most of it is so uneventful it wouldn't really be blog-worthy, including my inability to finish 4 miles of running today (I pretty much think it's a mental block based on the courses I'm running, because I can't imagine my body not being capable of that right now).  I did do close to 3, but that felt like disappointment.  I'm trying to get my running mileage back up so I am doing 15 consistently in a given week (plenty when you're not training for anything specific) plus some swimming.  My goal this week was 10, and I think I'm going to just eke it out. 

I told you, I'm just not interesting today, and am frankly in quite a mood . 

The important lesson I'm learning this week is, DISINFECT YOUR HEADPHONES. Either that, or, buy new headphones regularly. Someone told me, "You're just sensitive," but I'm pretty sure that person doesn't use headphones regularly while running, and probably also doesn't have the prolific sweat glands I do.  I've embraced my ridiculous sweating abilities, but that acceptance doesn't exactly make the ear infection go away any faster.  I'm sure if I'd had antibiotics, I'd be riding high and pain free right now, but first we'd need to get better, less astronomically-highly-priced health insurance for freelancers.

Perhaps it's as I fear on a regular basis, and I'm just a complete freak of nature with physical and mental attributes not even a mother could love.  After all, when I tell friends about things that ail me (like the ear thing) or just annoy me that are related to my height or my giant hands or my freakishly humongous face or my grotesque body that means I look like I'm 5 times as huge and sort of "giant" as anyone alive on the planet in any given picture or in real life (even when I know there are people taller and bigger than I am), they make fun of me (in a jovial way, but still, in a way that acknowledges everything I think is wrong with me being true) or look at me like they don't know what I'm talking about, because, they are not the freakish creature like me. 

I'm sure most people are shocked to find that I can actually run at all or that I still am quite a good swimmer, given the multitude of atrocious physical features I possess.  It's probably why my gym teachers in junior high and high school used to urge me to play sports at the height of my swimming career (not knowing I swam) so I could get in better shape and not look like a terrifying sea creature.

Someday, I will meet another baluga whale that is only slightly smaller than I am, or that really enjoys the way I dwarf him/her in photographs.

Dare to dream, Julia ... 

Oh, wait ... baluga whales are sort of small compared to other whales, so maybe that's a bad analogy.

And, by the way, those that know me know that I never bring this issue with my physical being garbage up in public forum, because it's annoying and inappropriate to make it a topic of conversation, so enjoy it -- or don't enjoy it -- while it lasts. 

I'm loving this commercial lately:



I can't quite understand why more people don't make poignant yet understated commercials that aren't so in-your-face and obnoxious.  I hate to support Wal-Mart because of its weird policies with selling music and movies that are pretty much blatant censorship, but ... this particular commercial does the trick.

And it makes me want to draw with that chalk instead of getting drunk. 

I've been on Twitter for about 12 hours now, and I must say, it's everything I thought it would be.  How do people even waste time there?  It's sort of like watching a sloth move its arm 3 inches (and 3 inches is a lot of distance for a sloth).  I think probably the point is to follow thousands of people so there is a steady stream of updating happening (at least if you want to have it suck some time out of your life), but I don't know that many people ... or at least there aren't that many people I care about enough to listen to them talk about the sausage sandwiches they ate for lunch or what they thought of the new Pixar movie (in 140 characters or less, that is). 

I'm sure there are people that would or will defend themselves when faced with my argument, singing the praises of technology. But let's be honest with ourselves ... there's nothing really that impressive about 140 characters worth of text describing the mundane things you are doing or thinking about at any given moment.  I would never deny anyone his/her ability to tweet, but I'm just saying let's not call it something it's not.  For the most part, I think you're all not, but ... let this serve as a friendly warning.

So, I succumbed.  I joined Twitter.  If you want to follow me, prepare to be disappointed.  My username is julia60476. 

I'm not sure why, as a few weeks ago I pretty much declared to everyone I know that if they ever started a Twitter account, I would absolutely without question stop being friends.  Period.  I appreciate that they all kept their Twitteriness under wraps (but, now I know who you are, because all 60 of you appeared on my list when I signed up through my e-mail account ... so, nice charade, but it's over).  I think I just know things of the technological and other important nature are about to happen -- a new iPhone, at least one iTunes album, some new general artistic and personal progress now that I'm getting rid of some seriously dead weight in my life ... the sky's the limit.  Oh, and also, I wanted a way to stalk Jordan Knight without having to actually stalk him, because, well, I'm lazy (though someone very wise recently told me that "laziness" is not at all the same as working so hard that it gets in the way of diversions). So far, he's my most active Twitter "friend."  Step it up, people.

I actually feel quite unburdened, though I can't say just why yet, mostly because the official unburdening hasn't yet occurred.  I will reveal when it's appropriate, and with the equally appropriate level of reverence for what got me to this point, which was some of the things I am eliminating from my life, honestly.  Funnily though, those that know I'm unburdening have let me know just how happy they are to have me back in the land of the living, and I do appreciate it.  It's funny how when you dump out all the toxicity, the important things start flourishing.  Common sense, I've missed you.  It's been quite a difficult time feeling so "responsible" for things and people that were insane and outside my control, and I feel myself slowly coming back.  I hope the things I want will come in full force, because it is time.  Part of me can't believe I waited so long, but the other multitude of parts of me know it was because it just wasn't time for me yet.

Also -- and you know who you are -- I agree, in case you haven't noticed (even though I'm pretty sure you've denounced myspace, though you may still be loyal to my blogginess, because I know you like it).  It's good to have you back and me back and unicorns, and all that crap, even if Tom Cruise did ruin it for all of us.  However, there's always Stevie Wonder.  We'll talk about that if you don't remember.   

I'm going to start being more regular, I promise, even though no one cares about myspace anymore.  But really, it's because you're all just really quite lazy, and Facebook and Twitter are your enablers.  And I think I know a little something about enabling.

I'm liking this a lot today:



There's a lot going on right now, but I'll write about it later ...

We must be really hard up for both writers and things to write about ... wait ... that's not at all true ... I think the right thing to say about THIS ARTICLE is, we must be letting anyone write anything these days and publish it online.

(Oh, and, there are some really self-righteous people with undiagnosed eating disorders out there.) 

This was the paragraph that made this person lose all credibility:

"KFC's mixture of meats presents a problem for me. I'm not a vegetarian, but I'm an aesthetic omnivore. I prefer to eat ugly animals whenever possible; chickens, pigs, crab or halibut. I try to avoid cute meat, such as beef (is there anything lovelier than the eyes of a Jersey cow?), lamb and rabbit."

Has this person seen "Babe"?  Or that movie with Dakota Fanning and Brittany Murphy, "Uptown Girls" ... with the pot-bellied pig?  Oh, that's right, NO one saw that.

Still, what's cuter than a little pig?  Also, who says chickens aren't cute?

"Aesthetic omnivore" goes down as this week's most ridiculous, arbitrary label for a weird dietary and lifestyle choice ever. 

I guess now everyone knows where to send their ugly babies when they don't come out right ... I'm sure they'd taste great grilled with some beef-laced chicken gravy. 

Just a little fun clip from my exploits 2 weeks ago ... fun!  I'm sure there will be more ...

I was finishing up a song, and I realized I'd come up with quite  a nice little deep thought for myself, particularly in light of the fact that we're about to my birthday:

"Birthday candles are wishes on fire

Burning through time’s crossed wires."

I don't like to do any horn tooting, because I mostly think I suck, but that's not really a bad little set of lines.  Thanks to my penchant for songing what I started lately, you can bet you will hear it soon ...

I know at least one person that likes a good slow jam. 

I will admit, I have always harbored secret thoughts that I really blew it by not managing to marry Jordan Knight, who I believe was my intended perhaps on this earth. 

What's funny is, I know a certain someone very near and dear to me that does love a good cheesy slow jam, but would probably not ever accept the Knight that is Jordan as a viable slow jam maker (along with New Kids on the Block, who I have to say have learned to create a much better slow jam as they've grown older). 

So, enjoy THIS, which I haven't been able to get out of my head for the past 3 months or so (I'll admit that I love it secretly or not-so-secretly now when songs include topical references that will not be topical at all in about 5 minutes, like "Grey's Anatomy," because it's just so boldly ridiculous).   

It's really embarrassing to admit his voice makes me all swoony (though, I would NOT cry like those ridiculous women in the video). 

All I have to say is, how does this REALLY differ from the 3 T's (you know, the Tony, Tone, Toni ... or however it's ordered)?  The answer is, it really doesn't.  Also, might I add, to give my missed husband further street cred, his favorite band is the Stylistics.

I guess still, to each his/her own. 

Still, there is a lot worse than New Kids on the Block.  Like, perhaps THIS, for example.  (Still, I will absolutely admit this song contains some of the best slow jam lyrics ever -- "Tell your supervisor you're leaving early today/'cause it's our anniversary."  I mean, who would think to include the word "supervisor" in a commemerative love song?)

I still love you though, Nay Sayer ... and I guess anyone that really loves me could also overlook my real (and not even really ironic at all, to tell you the truth) love for New Kids on the Block.  Just sayin' ...

That person would also have to accept being second choice to Jordan Knight, I suppose.  Maybe there's not anything worse than that ... or maybe it's the greatest compliment ever.

I guess I didn't think she was gone, but I hoped we could stop talking about her for a while. 

My friend Kirsten is suggesting a drinking game party involving her new book (and I very much agree with that being the only way I could stomach any of the chapters).  I wonder who she is using as her "minder" to help her write the thing?

Anyway, I found this link to be amusing (thanks, Facebook random friend of a friend).

My personal favorites:

1.  "On a Clear Day, You Can See Russia;"
2.  "If I Did It: What the Story Would Be If I Knew What the Story Was Behind That Giant Stuffed Polar Bear On My Office Couch;"

and of course ...

3.  "A Bald Plumber For Drillin':  How One Woman's Odyssey to Screw an Entire Nation Got Nailed in a Bus by an Angry Old Man."