Tag Archives: Jersey Shore

I Am Not A Farmer (Part I)

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After creating two posts a week since the inception of this blog, I’ve written nothing for the last three. Zero. Nada. Zilch. I’ve been on vacation mode, and I can’t bring myself to do anything that doesn’t involve self-tanning, a cocktail, and my DVR.

For the Type A, sometimes over-achieving, often napping Gemini that I am, this form of being is both thrilling and mortifying, but mostly mortifying since it’s 2:23 a.m. and I’m in a pseudo-manic state when I should be asleep.

Self Portrait taken April 18, 2012 at 2:45 a.m. Image via insanity.

How bloggers like Sweet Mother and A Clown On Fire manage to post brilliant material every day is beyond me. I think they might be bionic, but don’t tell them I said so or they’ll flex their witty, razor-sharp biceps even more often than now, forcing me onto the floor and into Jane Fonda donkey kick mode in a lame attempt to keep up.

Image via filmbug.com

When it comes to blogging, I’ve been in a bit of a stupor lately. Call it writer’s block, spring fever, or general disdain, but anything I’ve considered producing comes out in a blah, blah, blekity blah kind of way in my head. So instead of turning the bleck into something anyone might care to read, I rub on some Jergens Revitalizing Glow Daily Moisturizer, mix a fairly strong Maker’s Mark and ginger ale, flip through back episodes of Jersey Shore, and cry.

Image via nydailynews.com

But all of this, and by this I mean the writing void I’ve existed in for the past few weeks, is about to change because tomorrow I’m headed to The Farm. No, not that farm where they siphon off every last peso you’ve ever earned, commandeer all sharp objects including your mind, and pad you up in a nice white suit for your stay.

I’m gonna visit my seventy year-old dad’s fancy, new, working farm (sort of, whatever that means) in Varnville, SC…population 2,032.

The great thing about this trip is that I’m not a farmer. Not even close. Neither is my dad, which makes the whole thing doubly exciting.

That's not me. Image via wikipedia.com

Even better? I’m going sans-kids, although anyone who has children understands that it’s taken me approximately seventeen days to set up a three-day trip. Yes, I’ve invested 408 hours to get away for 72, which is voodoo math, but after a few drinks, who’s really counting? I’ve set up carpools, babysitters, video surveillance cameras and booby traps to ensure that my offspring get safely from Point A to Point B while I’m gone and don’t kill each other in the process, or eat too many leftover peeps from Easter and orbit the house in Matrix-like fight mode as they…kill each other in the process.

Dead Peeps. Image via flickr.com.

And last? There’s absolutely nothing to do. Check out Varnville on Google Earth. There isn’t anything there. Except my dad’s farm. And a pack of wild dogs. And some dude in a squirrel hat riding up and down the wrong side of the road on an electric scooter. O.K. I made those last two things up, but still.

So I’m going to Varnville to tap my creativity again and get out from under the spell of this evil-brain-witch-slacker-zombie who’s taken over my body. Because I miss writing. And I miss you. And I would like to be asleep right now. So maybe we can all join hands and sing Kumbaya together. Or not. But either way I’m for sure finding that dude on the scooter and catching a ride. I don’t know where we’ll end up, but the real fun is in the journey anyway, right?

Why You Should Take A Day Off From New Year, New You

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Most of the headlines you’ll read today and over the next month will fall into two nap-inspiring categories.

Category One: Old News You Could Care Less About

Articles in this area might include:

“The Year in Review: Top C-List Celebrity Divorce Attorneys” (or)

“The Best and Worst of Men’s Fall Fashion, Evolution of the Trouser Sock” (or)

Socks!

Image by oschene via Flickr

“2011 in Retrospect, Why the Whole Year Sucked”

To all of that and many more I say, so what?

2011 is over.  G-O-N-E, and we should all move on with our lives.  We need to forget the past and look intently toward a bright future, which, if you’re lucky, includes a video camera in your bathroom because you’re a super star.

Rajinikanth

Indian film actor and Super Star Rajinkanth: Image via Wikipedia

We must also take a serious look at who we are as individuals, and where we want to go.  Like, to the store to get some milk because the only non-congealed item in the fridge at the moment is leftover miso soup.

Finally, we should make a serious effort to let go of bad habits, like endlessly surfing Facebook for pictures of our high school ex-boyfriend, and embrace good ones.  Namely?  Stalking him in person.  Which brings me to the second category of yawn-inducing headlines.

Category Two: “Inspirational” Articles That Make You Feel Bad About Yourself

Some of these riveting captions could be:

“Man Up!  Daily Advice From Someone Much Cooler Than You” (or)

“Powerful Living: 10 Tips to Help You Get Over Your Lack of Cash” (or)

“30 Day Challenge: Live a Better Life by Pretending to be Someone Else”

The sheer volume of random musings, strangers, family members, and that teenager who bags your groceries telling you who to be and how to get there on the first day of a new year can be overwhelming.  Paralyzing even.

Teenager of the Year

Image via Wikipedia

So I’m going take a different approach and advise you to just stop.  Breathe.  Send the kids to your creepy basement to count boxes, and reflect on the value of being idle.   Make a PowerPoint to-do list of how many hours over the next day you can spend accomplishing nothing.  Adhere yourself to the sofa, turn on the T.V., and watch endless reruns of Jersey Shore while you Google cast bios and thank your parents for giving you bad hair.

Nicole "Snooki" Polizzi attending a ...

Snooki: Image via Wikipedia

Let’s face it, a new year can be long, and there are 366 days in 2012 (Gotcha!  It’s a leap year.  Bet you didn’t know that.), so you can afford to waste one.  Like an understudy in a play, the girl’s JV field hockey team at school, and anything labeled fat-free, today doesn’t even exist.  You’re no further behind your seven-habits-of-highly-annoying-people next door neighbor than you were yesterday by sitting this one out.  Technically, you might even find yourself a step ahead.