To all those who have their panties in a bunch over the announcement of Britney Spears' impending divorce from Kevin Federline or those who have nothing better to do than gossip about it:
Why all this bashing of someone that (probably) none of you has ever met? Is it because it's supposedly funny or the "in" thing to do? Maybe Britney-bashing was a little humorous when it first became popular, but now it's trite. She is a real person with a private life that we all know very little about. All this "trailer-trash" talk is just making you all sound like snobs. I know her divorce is big news, but I'm sure that it's going to be hard enough without strangers making fun of them for it.
And all that we know about her parenting skills are a couple of stories that were probably blown way out of proportion by the media. Every parent makes mistakes, especially new parents. Why should Britney Spears be any different?
As for those of you who ridiculed a particular photo of her, what's wrong with it? It was most likely a paparrazzi shot taken shortly after she gave birth. I think it's great that she wasn't afraid to get out and go to the beach in a bikini. Good for her!
Now, why don't you all find something constructive to do?
Signed,
The Voice of Reason
P.S. I admit that "Fed-Ex" is mildly funny.
November 12, 2006
How would my cat treat me?
I would be spoiled at first and then even more spoiled, despite my cat's best efforts. I would have sufficient food and water and be ignored when I try to complain that it's not fresh enough.I would also be lectured when I want to be let in or out every five to ten minutes. I would be called stupid or "damn human" a lot. But I would be persistent and always get what I want...eventually. And it wouldn't change the love and affection that I feel for my cat.
I would often be laughed at for my clumsiness and antics, but in a good way. It'd just make him love me more. I could do whatever I want, whether it's playing with my toys or running around and chasing leaves outside. I could have as much catnip as I want, no questions asked.
I would be allowed to sleep whenever and wherever I want. When I sleep with him, however, I would have to put up with his restless sleeping habits and lack of an actual bed. But I would be there, because he loves it. I wouldn't get as much attention as I want, i.e., 100% of his undivided attention whenever he seems to be busy. I would get ignored and pushed away a lot. But when I do get the desired attention...Oh, it'd be so good! The head rubs, especially right above my nose. The scratching behind the ears and between my shoulder blades. The occasional chest rub (but don't touch the belly!) And when he brings out the brush...*faints*
November 20, 2006
A day-long, incoherent rant
7:13 a.m.
Up at 5, back down shortly after 7. What a weird sleeping schedule I have.
1:17 p.m.
It's so hot in here. I hate it when people say they'll be here but don't say when. How am I supposed to plan my day without all the necessary info? Why do I keep finding tough and unchewable little pieces in my chicken? Chicken isn't even that good anymore. I'm almost ready to give up on it and only eat turkey. I'm not really looking forward to Thanksgiving. I like good food and football, but I'd rather do that stuff here, where I can actually get some work done at the same time. I just wish that I would get paid for at least half the stuff I do. I really should start charging people for proofreading and editing services; my time is very valuable. Mom or Matt and Kara will probably have a dinner on Wednesday or Thursday. Don't I see enough of them already? I'd rather they just save some food for me. I never get included in the conversations, most of which are uninteresting. It's just loud kids; my even louder sister-in-law, who, along with my mom, talks incessantly; dogs that get in the way; the absence of Biggs the cat (R.I.P.); and me watching the clock and thinking over and over, Can I go home now? There'll probably be a dinner at Dad's house on Thursday, with more of the same. Except Kara will talk incessantly with my stepmom about uninteresting stuff, and, as usual, the rest of us will be itching to leave for an hour before one of them notices. Why am I the only one willing to speak up in such situations? I have no idea if my stepsisters will be there. I haven't seen them in years. I wonder if Beth and Cindy are still feuding. I don't know what that's all about; I haven't heard Beth's side of it. And my dad! I love him, but I don't like to talk to him. I never know what to talk about with him. I'm sick of his questions about what I do and warnings that it's very difficult to find success as a writer. I guess we have different definitions of "success". Maybe when I start bringing in some dough, I can actually have a relationship with him. I can get some clubs and go golfing with him. Maybe even buy another car from him. I just ate, so why am I hungry again already? I hate this feeling. I'm craving something sweet, like chocolate, but I don't have any.
6:02 p.m.
Man, I'm freezing. And why can't I find what I'm looking for? I've been through twenty pages already! Did I miss it? Page 31...nope. Oh, forget it, I'll just create a new one! Holy crap, it's almost 6:30! I'll be back in half an hour.
