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Just kidding.

It isn’t like I forgot I have a blog. I do have a customisable tool bar on my browser that has my WordPress link on it, nestled right between Hotmail and Myspace. Of course, now I notice that the title of said link is too long and needs to be edited. (Goes to edit link…)

I do click on Hotmail at least once per day, so it isn’t like I don’t see WordPress sitting there next to it, whimpering for attention like a puppy who has been waiting for it’s owner to come home from work at long last. There is a clue in that last sentence. Work. My little wee heart leaps with joy because, yes people, I am a working woman. I love working. Working, especially in the present economic climate – a climate which calls to my mind a once giant iceberg floating in a vast ocean with other smaller icebergs orbiting it, and said iceberg now rapidly withering under the harsh glare of global scrutiny and accountability. All those poor orbiting icebergs are melting to near oblivion… Yes indeed, the days of covert unscrupulous money-making hijinks are nearly as extinct as gray wolves. Wait

Absolutely, I feel blessed to be among those labelled as employed. And to make matters even more joyous, I actually love my job and those I work for and with. How rare is that? When I come home from work, I stop by the door and take off my working woman hat and put on my mommy hat, which looks suspiciously akin to a chef’s hat only with jewels on it like a queen’s crown, and shift into helping with homework mode and feeding the hungry mouths that nip at my ankles like little baby piranhas. I frown while considering why I use so many metaphors.

Hippie Revival

Hippie Revival

I also get to do fun stuff, like Thursday night I took my almost eight year old daughter shopping so she could dress up for “Hippie Day” at school. Last time it was Nerd Day, to which we rebelled for a variety of good reasons. (See Dots’ post for more information. See sidebar to right if you aren’t familiar with Dots.) Anyway, how fun it turned out to be to choose cool clothing that was more a sixties revival than actually like the real thing. A paint splattered style t-shirt with lots of peace signs and L.O.V.E. spelled out in various places, and peace-sign necklaces and bracelets. How cool is it that this stuff is actually On The Market these days? Groovy, man.

Somewhere near bedtime, the fates decide if I have the inclination to sit at the laptop in my little desk nook. Generally I will log-on and thus look at the choices on my browser toolbar, organised vaguely in priority but mostly not. Being barred from use of my computer at work for any personal activity whatsoever, I know I will have at least one email from mia familia that I will want to read and (depending on the hour) respond to. YES, I do see WordPress sitting there next to Hotmail and YES I know I have a blog, and YES I realise that it’s collecting dust – even my precious David Tennant page has intergalatic cobwebs (they are bigger on the inside you know) and that I have forty thousand emails saved in my David Tennant News folder just waiting for me to get around to them.

YES, I know. I get it.

Such a handy dandy excuse doesn’t apply to Saturday and Sunday does it?  Well, so why am I not at least posting every Saturday? (Thinks hard…) Ack, when did this turn into a session with my therapist? Gosh people! What do you want from me? Blood? Ah, now we are getting somewhere! See that’s the thing, isn’t it? You readers aren’t even remotely like those aforementioned piranhas nipping at my ankles crying for food. You readers aren’t dropping me little comments saying “Hey what’s with the Caffe lately? Did the recession cause you to close up shop? We haven’t even had a decent cuppa in the last (frowns, counts, gives up) well, it’s been A.Long.Time.”

I guess subconsciously I know that you guys aren’t missing me all that much. Today, I heard that near-death-now whimpering WordPress link and decided to click on it and see just how desolate things were at Ye Old Caffe. I go first to my stats graph. Don’t you love that thing? It’s power to affect your blogmood is incredible. My chart is either awesome high with a great mountain-like spike or it resembles the stock market. Well, today it’s the latter, sadly. So, ha ha! it’s your fault, not mine! I don’t blog because you don’t care if I do or don’t.

Yeah, I know. Not true and not nice. Sorry.

I did have a million spam comments sitting there with some kind of weird teasing appeal as if to say: hey, come check us out! we might be a real fan of your blog and not XYZSHELKSDIX just dropping by to sell you a link to viagra. Who knew that instead of spam emails selling me this garbage, I’d get spam comments? Here is a clue to you people selling this crap (and working for the mafia is NO excuse) if we really wanted your garbage products you wouldn’t need to SPAM us to get us interested. You’re weird, go away.

Sigh.

I don’t blog …err correction, I haven’t blogged… because, well, for lots of reasons. Now, if you take all those reasons and boil them down, you’d get a really thin tasteless soup called Topicless.

Yes, my fellow bloggers, while you’ve been busy pounding your keyboards and coming up with stacks of interesting dialogue and attention-grabbing posts, I’ve been languishing in the realm of I’m Bored With Myself. Okay? I admit it. Nothing majorly interesting has been brewing at the Caffe. Yeah, yeah, and if you buy that, I have some really awesome dude-enhancing drugs to sell you.

Kidding! I’m actually not entirely topicless. I do have some thoughts rattling around in the cavernous empty space of my head. Not enough to make soup with though.

Like, the weird not-entirely-random door and window rattling anomaly that has affected certain parts of Orange County recently (California for you newbies.)  Such that sparked a debate as to whether or not it was sonic boom related even though residents didn’t actually report hearing a boom per se. I’d give you a link to the news report but you’re old enough now to Google all by yourself and you’ll find far more interesting things if you do. And whether or not the boom, which no one heard, was caused by local military installations who swear they weren’t flying supersonic aircraft out over the ocean at the time that the sonic boom wave came on shore at Dana Point and then swept north along the coast line to cause the mysterious and eerie door knob and window rattling …event …thing.

I know what you’re thinking. I’m weird like that. Southern California+Orange County+rattling = earthquake. Normally, I would agree with you. But these eerie events have no seismic activity associated with them at all. Really. It’s true. Check it out yourself.

After a bit of research, I rather wondered if the weird sonic waves have more to do with certain underwater military testing of high-powered sonic weaponry, but after those men came to my door the other day I figured it was best I didn’t mention it here.

Kidding.

No really, you can call off the men in white coats. They were here just yesterday and I swore I’d behave.

Also, I’ve been educating myself the earth’s geomagnetic field and about solar wind. These are amazingly interesting topics, btw. I have been kicking around the idea of blogging about them, so look for that at some point in the near future. Now you know what I do with my weekends when I’m not busy with, um, Other.Vital.Stuff.

I even have a Totally Random File of stuff in my head. Like, what makes me really joyous. Besides working, which I love, it’s that I can read the news now without the headlines being inundated with how octomom has her own octopaparazzi to tell us about every octomove she makes while she comes to octoterms with her giant octomistake of thinking she can take care of octochildren without an octostaff or octohusband. That is so octo-over done I’m uberocto’d out.

Now, I guess we are focusing on Obamanews instead. I’m okay with that I guess. I listen to NPR while navigating my I405 commute, and except during fund-raising days, I thoroughly enjoy listening to news exposés from around the world. No one has yet picked up on that sonic wave anomaly story, but they have thoroughly educated me on the global economic climate and keep me up to date on the intricacies of the bail out. I pity those countries who don’t have news so in-depth as we do, CNN and Foxnews notwithstanding, of course. Hey, I heard they (NPR) will now have a BBC News Hour in the mornings too. I’m looking forward to that.

So, you see dear readers, it isn’t your fault that I’m not posting, it isn’t that I’m too busy, it isn’t that I’m entirely topicless, it’s more to do with priority and organisation and a combination of all those other things. I will endeavor to do better. Maybe.

Earth Hour

Earth Hour

A parting note: In a little more than five hours from now, it will be Earth Hour. This is where, from 8:30 p.m to 9:30 p.m., we are meant to shut down everything electrical. Light candles, pour a glass of wine, kick back and enjoy the near-silence of the night. In fact, I can think of at least twenty-five fun things to do during that single dark hour.

Until next we meet, I bid you happy day.

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