C is for Cluck It

I mean Fuck it.

Hi World,

Consider "F" also covered.

D is Delicious and refers to the Utz Salt & Vinegar potato chips I have been eating for the past three days, pretty much non-stop.

E is for elephant, which is what I will be if I keep this up.  Elephants are brainy and graceful, and some can even fly, but they are NOT going to fit in my work suits and somehow I don't think the Bears will appreciate my navy blue stretchy yoga pants regardless of how liberal they are or how convincing my argument that comfort fuels productivity. 

G is for Gracias.  Gracias to you, amigos, for not unfollowing me as I transition through to the next phase.  It has been a bit more challenging than I thought it would be and I've been sort of in a weird, non-blogger fun, place.  And then when I checked in today not only had I not lost a friend (even though Red has been cleaning out all her contact lists) but I had actually gained one.  Hi Lindsey-it is nice to see you up there, Chick:-)

The good news is....I'mmmm baaaaacckkkkk. 

So what have I been doing?  Hmmm.  Well, I went through a phase of drunk emailing to some of the people I used to work with.  It is sort of like drunk dialing, only for people like me who are verbally challenged and prefer to communicate through the written word but only after staying up way too late and consuming multiple glasses of wine.  This behavior is far more dangerous than drunk dialing because you can always deny you said something but the written word is hard to deny when it comes from your email address.  Not that I would ever say anything bad.  I am the overly sentimental sap that wants to reminisce about all the good times we had.  I am the original, "I love you Maaaann", only I wrote it, I didn't say it.  And I was drinking wine, not beer. 

So they shut off my email account and rightly so, and now I've moved on.

To Trueblood.

Now, to truly understand the impact of what I am confessing to, you have to understand that except for littleb's cartoons, which I am forced to view when he is watching because the authorities in charge of deciding who gets to raise their own kids and whose kids get removed from the home generally prefer an adult be present at all times, I have literally not watched television or seen a movie for about six months.  Last fall, however, I did see one episode of Trueblood (I am still not sure how the remote ended up in my hot little hands).  And it didn't make sense to me because I had not ever seen any of the other episodes.  But I vowed before God and all the vampire nation that I would someday view the whole series start to finish.

And that's what I have been doing.  Plus enough laundry to clothe every child in Sweden.  And you know what, Joann?  You are right.  Laundry hurts my feelings, too. 

So now, in addition to my blogging obsession, I have a Sookie obsession. 



I think I might BE Sookie if Sookie were a real person (and 46, not 25).  Let's examine the evidence:

S is for Sookie, and S is for Sue (my alias).  (also, I may just cover the whole alphabet today and get it over with if that is okay with you)

Sookie has a vampire named Bill and Sue has a husband named Bill (who is not a vampire, just want to make that clear because he would totally be upset if he thought I were spreading those kinds of rumors).

Sookie lets Bill bite her neck.  Sue would totally let her Bill bite her neck.  Gently.

Sookie has a stupid brother named Jason.  Sue has five stupid brothers.  Well, not ALL stupid, and not named Jason, so that might be a stretch.

Sookie has a smart ass from childhood best friend named Tara.  Sue has a smartass from childhood best friend named Green Girl (plus a lot of other smart ass friends). 

Sookie works in the hospitality business.  Sue, until the apocalypse, also worked in the hospitality business. 

I think the evidence is pretty clear, people.  The character of Sookie was obviously based on Sue. 

Which leads me to this. 

I have insomnia again.

Because I am afraid. 

Of Vampires.

Not the real vampires that feed on your neck, but all the freakazoids out there that want to BE vampires.  You think Chicken is kidding? I am not kidding.  Mrs. P and I were talking about this last week.  Go on Google and enter "Tooth Sharpening" (Joann, could you please help your friend, there?  Her google disappeared again).

See what I mean?  That is some weird butt guts (that's my new word for shit, which is a word I do not like but sometimes it is the only applicable word.  I stole it from a seven year old named Lola).

My Trueblood obsession is totally different than the "freaks'" obsession.  I know that I am not really Sookie. I know the difference between fantasy and reality. (she states proudly pretending not to notice the snickers in the background.  Shut up GG and former co-workers).

OH.  And did I tell you? I think there is also a Werewolf.  I have to go back and see now.  And fold another load of miserable laundry and get my feelings hurt all over again.  God, what a great vacation.  This beats Niagra Falls any day. 

Take care, Peeps

Chicken out

UPDATE:  So turns out NOT a werewolf but a ShapeShifter.  Ooooh, how sexy is that?