"Why Did I Fall In Love...?"

Okay, so this is going to be a bit of a rant because I felt the sudden urge to share with you just how ridiculously stupid I can be for no apparent reason "sometimes"…..

[[NOTE:  If you were one of the poor souls who tried to google an answer on: "Why Did I Fall In Love?", I'm sorry for the mislead to my blog but more specifically, this particular post that really has absolutely nothing to do with an emotional tie to 'A PERSON' OR a relationship for that matter.

Being utterly honest with you, I figured the easiest way to draw in more exposure to my random peanut gallery of thoughts, would be to google the top search topic for 'Why Did I Fall....." and this happened to be a rather popular one among the few.

So..... I'm sorry but Ben & Jerry's or my good ol' friend Wine, will have to pull through for you only tonight...unless you care to stick around and read my pointless rant about how I fell all too easily for a fkn APP (an inanimate 'thing!')

Feel any better??  Well--You should.]]
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You see, I, and I’m sure those of you who actually “know” me in “real life” (…meaning people I’ve met face to face with before and what not), would agree that I am not a “gullible or naïve” person by any means. 

Perhaps it’s my lack of faith and belief in humanity as a whole, but I just don’t give a sht about what anything or anyone has to say or claims to say, because, quite frankly speaking here, I think it’s probably about:

a)       90% horsesht and about 10% of ‘IAJDGAF’ (I actually just don’t give a fk) about it, period

Example:  GUY – “I totally picked up this broad I met the other day and did the dirty and tossed her out right after, so I could go to sleep alone.” 

(And… No…I don’t doubt that you did that, but that’s only bc you knew it would cost you more if she stayed any longer than your 1 minute man show time, and sadly, on a Kinko’s salary, you can’t afford to indulge in such frivolous luxuries in the all too fun guess-the-STI-you-just-won-behind-door-number-2-department… please don’t bore me with your rebuttal.)

Or…  Sometimes it swaps and it’s about:

b)       90% IAJDGAF and 10% horsesht

Example:  GIRL – “…So he was all like, ‘oh my god, you’re the most important thing to me in my life, baby’…and I was all like, ‘Awwww…!! Baby I love you so, so, so, so, soooo, soooo, sooooooo much!’"[[GAG .]] ..

(This would be a pretty accurate example of this weighting ratio to which I may predictably respond back with: ‘As you’re the most important thing in his life (sarcastic undertone, because he’s probably only said that to about seven other women before you and knew it’d turn you into a marshmallow after = the 10% horsesht), you may want to STFU right about now, because you’re irritating me and thus, should disappear from my sight entirely before that pathetic line of his has to be modified to PAST TENSE, if you get my drift….. *shoots crazy eyes*)

And yeah… so, either way… your safest bet would actually just be to like, idk… probably just ‘leave me alone’ or something??  Or, maybe find someone else who has no life of their own to enjoy thriving on the sht gossip happenings of another to fill in that void of theirs. 
IDK… You figure it out—Just leave me out of it.  Thanks.

With any case, now that you know that I’m THAT shopper every customer service rep hates (because you honestly couldn’t up sell me on ANYTHING I didn’t already intend on buying prior to actually visiting a store, even if your life depended on it…)

I mean, the process is actually very meticulous, in my opinion.  I will spend days, weeks and sometimes MONTHS (depending on how expensive the item is)—Generally, the more expensive , the more thought and research goes into the purchase in determining whether I:

a) Actually want the item 

(This is determined ‘strangely’ by me opening up an internet browser and staring down pictures of the item intensely, clicking on the Add to My Cart option but never actually checking out.  If I still dream about it, or end up closing the tab on my internet browser days /weeks later, then I didn’t ‘actually’ want the item.  Maybe I was just mildly intrigued by it and thus have saved myself value X.)

b) Actually need the item 

(This is typically a two part process that is usually determined during the same time a) is.  My mind, if it knew I could get usage out of the item, it would think about the item recurringly.  If it doesn’t find much use or value in it, it usually won’t spring to mind anymore.)

c) The item actually works as it’s intended to 

(This is based on several review forums etc. and I say several because everyone has their own set of experiences with something.  So I usually just cross reference reviews to see if there’s an obvious issue with something and if so, whether that can be further critiqued to see if those few select people who’ve identified the same problem fall into another sub category.

For example, with Clothing – Say, a few customers have identified that an item tears easily at the inseams.  That ‘would be’ a concern; however, if those people have indicated further information  like their body type/ age/ build/ activity level/ the size they bought, I’d be able to determine whether that would be applicable to me or not and ultimately rethink about the item entirely, or rule out the matter of concern explicitly!)

d) Whether the item will be a ‘classic’ 

(This simply means that 2-5 years from now, will the item still be available and what not, or is it just a new product that’ll likely fade out after some time? Sidenote: I don’t particularly like following any sort of fad and this applies to anything, right down to new TV series airing!)
These would ultimately be the key points I zero in on prior to making ANY physical purchase in store, because we should by now, be able to tell just how much I ‘love’ malls (for those of you who are thick headed and unable to detect my level of sarcasm there, I’m telling you point blank:  I hate malls. 

I feel like 75% of the people there are window shopping or just visiting ESPECIALLY on the weekend, just CAUSE they’ve nothing else better to do!  Like sht, if I want to aimlessly WALK around somewhere, I’d choose a park or other location less infested with a gazillion people….. 

Parking alone is a fkn nightmare…. Screw the Hunger Games…. It’s the fkn Parking Games…. Some people are seriously vicious, yo!)

Anyways, back to what this post was actually supposed to be about… (now that you should TRULY understand how what I’m about to say, MAKES ABSOLUTELY NO SENSE)…

Knowing this now…. (given the image provided to you at the beginning of this post, where I vaguely share my stupidity with a friend), I’m sure you’ve gathered that  I ACTUALLY went grocery shopping yesterday when I didn’t even have to.

As it said in the picture, like an idiot, I fell into this stupid App I downloaded off the Android Playstore called Checkout51.

In a nutshell, you basically earn cashback for (not even, every) purchase(s) you make.

Tell me why then, I bought a fkn POT OF GOLD – MILK CHOCOLATE EDITION (when I don’t even like them!), a FAMILY SIZED BOX of CORN POPS, BREYERS ICE CREAM and 3 AROSOL AIR FRESHNERS (bc only a quantity of 3 qualifies for the $1 cashback deal!)?!??!


I earned $4 back in return for a $23 purchase (with an additional $2 new app cashback customer offer for a first purchase over $20 value before taxes)…

I could have SAVED $23 if I hadn’t gone to the grocer in the first fkn place!!!

Goddamn you app!!

I could go on about how ridiculously dim witted I feel, but I may just end up triggering an unhealthy rage lol so… I’ll leave it at that….

Sincerely,

A Very Angry and Dying Pot of Gold Blogger

That is all . YUP .

pure bullsht .   

“…Can’t Stop Thinking…!! Arg!!”

Now, this can seriously ‘just’ be me…

…But-I think I may have a real problem….

That is…. amongst an already ‘ginormous’ pre-existing grocery list of issues (that at least I can come clean about it, ya jerk!) :p

No, but in all seriousness, I really think I have this like.. I don’t know ‘head issue’ or something.

…. What I mean to say and admit is that I just can’t seem to ‘flip off the ‘ON’ switch’!!

I mean, during the day, most of the time, I feel like I’m on cruise control or something—Auto Pilot for some of you ol’ fogies who still drive your 1975 Buicks and sht..

I’m there, but not really there—if you get what I’m saying.

Maybe it’s because I feel that giving a sht about any of the below listed enough to either:

a)      Reciprocate (as in respond back to a general greeting for instance in a store, like “Hello, how are you?” which normally just ends in me either pretending I didn't see or hear you, or nodding like a foreigner who just doesn't know wtf you just said or did to me)

b)      Talk back (because what you may have said either didn't make sense or was wrong and thereby needed some form of correction)

OR…

c)       Reject your existence entirely (because I’m not sure in what universe you seem to ‘think’ I so much as give a sht--even remotely, what you did last night, on your weekend, your birthday, someone else’s birthday or party (because ‘some’ of us still look for social acceptance and validation in their lives ‘beyond’ high school), your booger nosed child’s 1^st, 2^nd, 5^th, and forever more birthdays, what you bought on sale at whatever store I clearly wouldn’t shop at, and only but another million other things that if I’m not directly involved in……I DON’T FKN CARE!  *hyperventilates and minor asthmatic wheeze makes for some awkward yet interesting background music*)

…it all just exerts too much goddamn ENERGY. 

…Energy that isn’t a renewable resource for me and therefore will not just be wastefully wielded over to you, under any circumstance. 

So, what ends up happening is that I just float about and around this earth like a ghost with unfinished business or something.   My mind is like ‘on’, but on the longest fkn lunch break evar. 
Get it? Got it? Good.

---

So, now that you’ve a clear understanding of how my mind works during the day (or to be more accurately described, as a lack thereof), somebody please explain to me why it suddenly decides to turn on as the night progresses and the rest of the world is turning in (Note:  I’m not referring to you overseas btches, okay?? For the sole purpose of this post, let’s just pretend everyone sleeps when I see darkness outside to make my story easier to follow, alright?!)??

Back to what I was rambling on about, why do all my thoughts suddenly begin racing at night?!?!

It’s like ideas somehow magically begin to bubble and surface, or thoughts of things I’ve done, do and will do or will want to do, or should do start to do, overtake me like a fkn parasite! 
(Unrelated A.D.D. side note, has anyone here ever seen the tv series: Monsters Inside of Me??? It’s a great fkn show, I swear… That is, if you’re into sht unknowingly penetrating your body at any given moment and living in there as sleeper parasites until they’re pretty much ready to take you down aaaannndddd yeah, basically kill you… if you’re into ‘that’ sort of stuff, then seriously… You NEED to watch it!!—Maybe then people infatuated with singing about monsters, like Rihanna and Eminem will learn to get a better grip on what it really means to have monsters inside of them…hahaha…if only…lol ...Anyway….)

I mean, take this for instance…

I got the idea to rant about my inability to fall asleep late at night (day before yesterday considering it’s WAAAAAYYYYY past midnight again right at this moment) because I was getting frustrated with waking up in intervals of 5, 10, 15 (you get the picture) minutes each time I ended up dozing off.  It’s like the friggin SNOOZE option you just can’t fkn turn off inside of you!!

The following morning, after Yoga, I tried to draft my thoughts (while it was still day, DUHHHH) and of course unsurprisingly, I was unable to type up anything because my mind was just fkn pudding! (Not EVEN the yummy kind… I’m talking like hospital-day-after-a-surgery-sht pudding.)

Eventually, I got pssed and told my fkn laptop where to go (because somehow we all know it’s ‘his’ fault).  I mean, he totally asked for it too, that good for nothing piece of sht… constantly lagging on me and freezing up like he’s trying to drop a mix tape.

I fully warned that mothrfkr to start typing up my blog or at least give me some inspiration, but the little sht didn’t waver at my threats!

So… with a great deal of inner strength, I sneakily hovered on over to his ears (le mic) and whispered in the most evil voice ever…. “If you don’t smarten up, I’ll have no choice but to cut you off life support….” But the son of btch remained still and unalarmed—So, I pulled that plug right outta the outlet (NO HESITATIONS, mang!!) and since my laptop battery hasn’t worked since the latest recession began, the little mofo died!!!!!  HAHAHAHAHHAA

DEADLY FKN BRUTALITY!!!!  
*Mortal Kombat style, btch!!* 

Anyway, I ended up getting pwned bc I didn’t actually end up saving the fkn file I was drafting prior to pulling the goddamn plug—so the joke is on me………. *looks down discouragingly and kicks dog because I’m not outside right now and a pebble is just nowhere to be found……….*(‘Sorry’, Baby… ßDog’s Name, because I’m so creative.)

I had to re-write this bs blog post AGAIN and I’m going to go with: the ‘original’ was MUCH better if this one sucks to read.. Too fkn bad.
YOU go try and do a double take on something and see if your sht is better or worse.  Chances are it’ll be worse, because you’d be too fkn angry to think straight and allow your true thoughts on whatever you’re blabbing on about, come to fruition.

Now, take this and go.

Ooooo!!! OooOoOOOOooOoooOO!!!!

If you’ve learnt any techniques or whatever to get you to sleep when we’re supposed to, PLEASE do tell  and share with me the ways because like a goddamn cancer, the carry-on sized bags that used to decorate my  under eye like a horrible makeup artist with year around ‘smokies’, have metastasized into full blown luggage suitcases!

Sincerely,

The Angry Sleep Deprived Soul

That is all .  YUP.

Workplace Garbage: Part 1

Now, I hate to be a total btch about the workplace, but I feel there’s just a load of horsesht that almost all of us blue collars have to put up with on the regular.

These short little posts every week or so (and by this, I mean, whenever I get pssed badly about something enough to exert it on the keyboard in front of me, usefully…and when I’m not battling off laziness), will be dedicated to all the random bull we go through during the dreadful 9 to 5 (HI FIVE!!). 

Hopefully some of you will be able to relate to some of this garbage and if not—then fk you, because I do, and if you’re not suffering with me…..then…..you MUST be the en-eeeemmm-eeeeee!!!! 

So go stand over there in the corner with all the other narcissistic jerks offs of the joy-luck-club.  Heh heh heh…….

Anyway…Seriously though... as the holidays and Christmas are nearing, I understand the concept of people wanting to be cheerful, giving and sht. 

Toys, food, donations….pretty much all the sht I can barely even do for myself leisurely because unlike a small percentage of the population that fart dollars, I happen to get paid in peanuts and sunflower seeds—NOT EVEN SMILES!! (eerrrrbody all be like cranky and sht and like, rightfully so, no??)

Would you be happy living like this???

If the cost of living and gas prices inflate any quicker than my paycheck being deposited and picked up like a hooker on Black Friday within a blink of an eye, I swear!! I’m going to be rocking me a hot moomoo and jesus sandals purrrrty darn soon…. . call it some archaically retro avant-garde chic!! 

Sexy imagery working for you there, eh? Lol  hahaha What can I say? I’m a woman to love …. Haha ha haaaaa…. 

Anyway…                            

                                                                                      

The point I’m making here, is that I ‘get’ all the goodness these acts of kindness are ‘supposed’ to mean.  That isn’t my problem.

The part I’m btching about is why the fkn hell are you ENFORCING that I be all loving and kind for these stupid contests you make up in the office place, where like each manager will have their team of puppets and pawns sell their souls--JUST so they can not only be rewarded with A SLICE of shtty and cold $5 pizza, but also to enjoy the brink of an emotionally surging boost of a new defined level of hatred for their managers who will likely be partying up their larger than life ‘bonuses’ that THEY WILL NEVER  EVEN SEE. 

Do we look like idiots that’ll allow you to use and abuse us like this??? (I’m sure that statement is debatable for some.. and if you fall in that category, don’t worry, I’m sure your mother, grams and Jesus still love you regardless, so get over it).

Seriously speaking here, how’s that for workplace hierarchy, right?? 

Wrong.

Sorry to break it to you though… The Matrix was a fkn movie and I see through all the bullsht... Morpheus shade style—fk the pills.  Thanks.

I can’t be bothered to do something that ruins the true meaning of the holiday spirit and giving just so you can ‘up’ your own status; as a manager who has an awesome team of sht eaters, while the image of whatever company these buffoons work for earn better bragging rights across the board and their competitors, is not really my cup of tea.

Since when do I have to donate money or do something good for a cause ONLY through work and thus under the name and image of ‘company X’???

I’m sorry—But you need another 1 million peanuts, 700,000 ‘salted’ sunflower seeds, the blood of your first born and 12 Jehovah witnesses before I can openly and charismatically prance up to the opportunity to do so, when you so threateningly breathe down my neck every goddamn day, TRYING to ‘pressure’ me into making a donation, because like a zit on the tip of your nose, I am that 1% participant remaining prick pending completion of this stupid office contest you guys run every frickin year, who will ONCE AGAIN keep you from that bonus that we shall now BOTH NEVER SEE..!!!! MOOHAHAHAHAHA

It is an ingenious act of valor on behalf of the other sad little people I work amongst.  Like a fkn pink Robin Hood, yo. 

Anyways, all I’m saying is it’s called a ‘DONATION’ for a fkn reason.  (FTR, I do a fair share of giving back to the community. But this is on my own terms and under my OWN name and heart.)

If you think it’s directly linked to my workplace presence and ‘personal brand’ that will now be judged as lacking… then perhaps prior to hiring a new employee, part of the job role should state (in bold, 72. Pt, IMPACT font), that I AM REQUIRED (underlined) to partake in this sht every year, alongside any and all the other crummy outside of workplace get-togethers some wallflower troll plans because they HAVE NO FRIENDS OR SOCIAL LIFE OUTSIDE OF THE OFFICE, so like pokemon, they try and capture all the other poor souls in their shttily disguised pokeballs to pull out whenever they get lonely and want people to drink, eat or watch a movie with while using ‘workplace spirit’ as their blunt weapon line of defense.  Bloody pathetic.

I can seriously go off on a tangent about this because I don’t believe I have to sign my soul away to do everything these tards want of me. 


Doing my job, I come and go, if you want something badly to do as they’re told, admire you and shower you and treat you like gold, just get a fkn puppy already.

The end.

That is all .  YUP .

The Ogre

“Sometimes You Just Have to Accept that You’re an Ogre.”

Okay, fine.

So, what I really meant to say is that “I” need to accept that I just may very well be an ogre. 

A better smelling one (on the days I actually choose to shower…or drown myself in a fragrance which really only ends up making me smell like a big field of blossoming flowers with only the subtlety trace of a Chinese public restroom…), with better hair (for those days I actually decide to combo-it-up and shower AND wash my hair…Groundbreaking!), with better skin and pigmentation (for the days my skin doesn’t decide to resent me and morph into what can only be described as a ‘map of the world’ with 3D effects—because apparently I have the longest puberty lifespan in the fkn world…)

I can only but see it now, I’ll be a fkn 85 year old troll housing these unwanted orphan zits from everyone else under the trenches of crow’s-feet, and chronological landscapes that prove I’ve roamed the earth since before Ozzy had a clue of wtf was going on.

Yes…but a modern day ogre with good ol’ fashioned ogreish ways, I am.

---

Ah, but how I love to nestle my disproportionately immaculate sized head full of air and absolutely nothing more, into whatever I can find around me that’ll serve as a pillow so I can lie down and veg.  I’m like a more colorful version of Snorlax—Wanna try and catch me!? 

You probably could because I wouldn't actually consider getting up—it’s just too much unnecessary work (I was so much fun to play Tag with back in the day, I swear). 

I literally am pretty much an impossible person to persuade to ‘come out’ of my cave once I’m in it. Seriously.

My dream house would be everything I could ever want or need right before me. 

Actually, on second thought, that would pretty much create a comparable living standard to that of a ‘hoarder’… and I really do fancy my leg space, so let’s revise that comment and say ‘within reasonable proximity’ so I don’t really have to move all that much to get or do something.

For those of you who truly don’t understand the magnitude with which my laziness stems from, please try and picture this… at the tender age of 9, I really wished someone would create a bed that had some sort of way you could take a piss or sht without actually having to get out of bed! 

RIGHT?!?!

I’m sure at first thought it may seem mighty nasty and unhygienic to some of you judgmental pricks out there, but don’t kid yourself—I know you would eventually enjoy the convenience that wondrous invention would  bring! 

No more freezie-ness trying to roll yourself out of bed and frozen fishstick toes that can cut through glass, as you sprawl across your bathroom tiled floor like a zombie from Walking Dead, because like an idiot you forgot your giant fuzzy slippers in your bedroom. 

Or…. how about those irritating toilet seat chills that always seem to creep up on you making you look like an epileptic ‘Grudge’ (for the ladies), or a slanted-eyed-chinaman-from-the-mountains ‘Angry Bird’ (for the men)—because not only are the lights too bright, but somehow you all wake up from bed with hair poking out like an ‘Angry Bird’ or cockatoo! .. I mean… personally, I think this is likely because you all sleep like the fkn Tasmanian Devil at night, rolling around and about in bed while steam rolling your head into the pillows.  I mean, ‘us’ ladies move at night too… but you don’t see us waking up a beauty queen like you fellas do! 

Anyway… before I go off on a limb and once again lose my train of thought…let me just continue saying that I don’t know how they would create this piece of awesomeness but if they did, it really would be epic.  

Don’t try and rationalize or breakdown this idea because it doesn’t fully make sense!  I’m not a fkn ‘furniture architect’ (that what they call them?? o_O ?? lol) for God sakes!  I’m the creative mind behind the sht, okay?? That’s MY job!!  

Now, some random Swedish Ikea man should thank me and run with this idea.  Take it, and go. You’re welcome.

All I’m saying is, I’m sure your plans sound and will be great… I really do.  But--I’m just not interested in attending if I have to:

-          get up

-          shower

-          put on a clean pair of underwear (because I hate laundry and avoid it for as long as I can)

-          change (creating a mountain of clothing, because somehow the outfit I always end up choosing is the very last article of clothing found at the innermost bottom of my closet)

-          get into my car: freeze my ass off in the winter or suffocate in humidity in the summer, like Sponge Bob under a heat lamp (bc Canada; Toronto, really only has black and white sht weather to experience and choose to hate from)

-         drive through an almost always guaranteed bottleneckclusterfk of city traffic

-         waste gas (because I’m Asian and every nickel counts, since pennies became about as useful as a drive thru shoving my receipt into the paper bag I’d be about to Kirby the contents of in two seconds, and couldn't possibly be bothered to complain, return /or exchange the burger and fries I’d be shtting out in the short few hours that’d follow after, if somehow it was the wrong order)

-         arrive to wherever the fk your sht is going down and hope to find that you have some sort of house pet I can allocate all my time to for the rest of the evening, to avoid socializing with anyone else there…

It really all does sound enticing to me, but... I’ll pass. 

Like Jesus (as some non-believers would argue), I am ‘that person’ who always ignores the Facebook Events I receive (because I can) and for kicks sometimes, click the ‘I’m Attending’ button with really no intention of doing so come the day of the event.  Whatever.  Kill me.

At the end of the day, I just really happen to enjoy staying in, where I can freely be the hideous woman that I am in silence, more.  Nothing personal, I swear.

That is all .  YUP.

Meditation: The HOW-TO "Enrich Your Life with Yoga and Meditation" - Part I

They say... meditation can help you refocus your mind while decompressing whatever stress you so vigilantly grope onto with tireless, ironclad fingers.

Or, at least that's what I think my grandma said to me in Chinese one day when she preached this goodness to me... There obviously wasn't an English Subtitles option available for me to flick "On"... So.. ..  Whatever.  That was ‘my’ interpretation likely influenced by the image Western Movies and Hollywood has painted for me on monks and their monkeriness?? (That a word?? Whatever. It is now. Deal with it.) I say monks...  Because like..  It isn't the most ignorant assumption to make on persons who actually do meditate regularly.  Moving on...

So, like for those of you who didn’t know (only but every other person I didn’t already bore the hell out of when I ranted on my newest infatuation and interest in the life of a Yogi for countless hours. No—Not the Yogi Bear, those of you oblivious to the practice of Yoga.), I have been going through some personal struggles and stress for quite some time and had pretty much just about HAD it.

So in a radical attempt to attain self preservation, I, the open-minded-searching-for-something-more-dichotomous-thinker decided to try and understand and cultivate ‘meditation’ into my sht filled life.

Go big or go home.

Perhaps I needed a reason to validate the dropping of close to $3,000 within a matter of 4 days, but let’s just say this baby went all out from Yoga gear and Accessories, to a membership at a Moksha Yoga Studio down the street from me, to the purchasing of books and applications on my Android device…  What?  Can I at least get a little recognition for my efforts to really take this serious?

Anyway, I read all about the practice of Yoga and how it’s said to enrich ones’ life and all… I can’t say I fully read everything because damn it—There’s so many different Yoga terms and sht…It’s like learning a foreign language…. LITERALLY.

Pararararararaaaayannnnanananar?? What the fk?

Anyways, let’s just say I’m still learning for what will probably be forever.

I know all serious Yogis say the practice of Yoga is understanding that learning is boundless.. But listen—I’m not referring to this aspect.

I’m literally saying, I’ve wikipedia’d my life away and nothing really sticks (tip for the wiki: you don’t have to post a fkn life story of every single word, because by the time I’m through with reading the first paragraph, I’ve already wiki’d through 7 separate pages for other words I was unfamiliar with that I lost the original subject of what I actually was searching for to begin with! Holy hell. Anyways.. OOOMMMMMMM…. **rubs ear lobes gently to self soothe**)  Even just trying to explain how cumbersome this process was, I’ve lost track of what I was saying, so whatever—moving on.  If it ever comes back I’ll add it then.

So… let’s see, I ended up wanting to work on the breathing and meditation aspect first, as it appears to be the foundation of Yoga.

So I did.   

I just did a 15 minutes beginner’s meditation practice with an app I downloaded onto my phone and let me tell you--it was freaking hard!

Like you're not supposed to THINK OF ANYTHING except what you're doing.

This would be the art of ‘mindfulness’.

And so…. my mind pretty much kept wandering…and went a little something like this:

[Closes eyes and mimics the Buddha like seated position known as ‘Easy Pose’…quite ironic actually, because it’s anything but after a few minutes of no movement…I’ve no idea how people sit in front of artists for what would be classified to me, as lifetimes, beyond 5 minutes…but anyway..I’m trailing…Look at this.  I can’t even stay on track while blogging… so, as you could imagine… Immediately after closing my eyes and slowing my breath, the first thought to mind started with….]

-am I doing this right?

-no. I'm probably not because I'm talking to myself right now.

-should I open my eyes to check the tutorial guy and see if I'm doing this right?

-no. Because then I'm breaking meditation.

-damn it! I peeked!!!

-oh good!  …At least my posture is like his… Okay, so….what I did just now wasn't all that bad.

-but why am I still mind talking?

-sht. Stop. Srsly.

-ew! Something smells like cow poo!

-is Baby (my dog) sniffing around me?

-what if she isn't?

-omg. A ghost is floating around me wondering wtf I'm doing.

-I’m scaring myself

-focus! Focus Michelle!

-okay fine. I'll stop.

(Quiet for 7 minutes. ..how did I know? )

-fk! I opened my eyes again to look at the timer!

-no... but I had to.. what if the app froze?!

-okay. .. anyways. .its not

-frig..I only did 7 minutes. This ish is hard!

-ooohhhh... my back wants to relax now... but I can't. . Or its not meditation

-how the fk do these monks do this for hours.. forget that.. how does my 90 yr old grandma?!?!??!

-you're pathetic Michelle... all this fitness and muscle and you can't even maintain a straight posture with your eyes closed WITHOUT talking or thinking about anything for longer than 7 minutes

-blah.... I wonder what I should eat for dinner…

-I bet my fridge is sadness because I cheaped out last week and didn’t do any groceries..

-arg!! So annoying

-is this over yet? 

-sht!!! I peeked again

-my grams is going to be blown away by me embracing yoga

-yup

-gosh.. ashtanga was such a challenge today

-Michelle! Fkn stop thinking! !!

-okay.. okay! Holy.. this sht IS hard

-I want to slouch now.....

-is this over yet?

-I think I'm craving something… something nommies…

-I already screwed up... oh well . I’ll try this again later tonight

-I can do this!

-7 minutes out of 15 for a first time is pretty good!

(Lady voice through app says I'm done)

My final thought?

GOOD GOD. FINALLY.

Mmm… so that was my first experience with meditation a couple days ago..  YUP.

Look out for Part II when I actually give a probably less failed expression of how Yoga actually did work out for me after..

That is all .  YUP.

Hello... My Name Is .. .

Yes... and I am a caveman.

If this were '95, the fact I don't need step-by-step walk-through instructions for using and owning a pager, I'd of been considered "cool".

(I don't even know if this adjective is socially acceptable anymore... But whatever. Blah. Further in my defense.. If this were South Korea, it would be...so "cool" it is.)

The point I'm making here, is that I don't know what I'm doing technologically, so please kindly take your criticisms elsewhere, if you want to nitpick at how plain and aesthetically lacking my blog looks.  Thanks.

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On that note,  for those of you who haven't already figured out, I already had another blog (michellesw.wordpress.com) with which I started a few years ago, and subsequently let die because of my chronic condition of laziness and quite possibly ADD, with a few sprinkles of a thing quite commonly known as 'committal issues'.

That, and I have also 'changed' with time and so too, my vision of where I wanted to take my blog.

By change, I mean, basically evolved into more of a 'lazy person' (because you didn't actually think that was impossible, did you?)

And...by 'where I wanted to take my blog', one will now be able to easily observe that that is essentially 'nowhere'.

What this means, is that this will pretty much be a blog about 'nothing'!

I suppose you could then conclude yourself that 'Seinfeld' and 'Always Sunny in Philadelphia' were definitely tv sitcoms I enjoyed fusing my ass to a couch for, while stuffing my sexy pie hole with shards of butter encrusted popcorn kernels.  Yes.. . I am a dashing vision to hold onto, I know.  Keep it in your pants.

In any event, I found myself full of useless thought and had nowhere and no one to throw them at...so ... here's to dumping my sht--Hooray!

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So, this is just an introductory blog about me and what you'll likely be reading from here if you actually care to stick around, otherwise, no worries--no hard feelings. I won't hate you. Well... maybe a just a little bit.
Okay, no--I will a lot.  Not really. Okay, but seriously, I will--So stay a bit and we can have crumpets and cheese together!! Wallace and Gromit style!!

(If you didn't get that reference, then you're probably not old enough to read the sht I'll be saying here, so this would be the one and only exception for me allowing you to leave without voodoo'ing you after.  Now, be gone.)

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For those of you who stayed, I will close with this:

If I had to explain myself and this blog in 6 words, I would say: 'colorful, heroically helpful, caring and... flammable'.

That's only 4 words.  Ah well...I guess I should have thought of that before I started writing.  Too late now.

This is probably the least informative 'About Me' attempt ever.   o_O ?

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That is all .  YUP.