The Plaintive Cry of the Newbie Blogger

Posted on November 7, 2011 by pegoleg

The following is a little, tiny post I put up after being on WordPress one month.  This was before I had pictures, tags or readers.  Who of us didn’t have these thoughts in the beginning – and still do, on occasion?

Come with me now; back, back, back through the mists of time…the year is 2010…

Now that I’ve been doing this blog for a month, I must say it’s rather strange.

Like writing in your diary, then deliberately leaving it out on your bed for your obnoxious little brothers to read. No offense to MY brothers. Bill, Pat and Jim would never have read my diary. Only because I didn’t have one.

Not only are you OK with your little brothers reading your diary, you hope they will. You wish they would tell their friends. And their friends. And their friends. Until a couple of thousand people are huddled under the pink ruffled canopy on your chenille-covered twin bed, avidly reading how you have a mad crush on Donnie Riker.   By the way, that’s just a made up name for the sake of illustration, and has nothing whatsoever to do with the kid by the same name whose locker was right next to mine in 7th grade. Really.

Apparently my diary is still safely hidden at the bottom of my underwear drawer, far from prying eyes. Sigh……

read me, read me, read me...

Posted in General Ramblings | Tagged , , , , | 37 Comments

Will PAC-Man Gobble Up The King’s English?

Posted on November 3, 2011 by pegoleg

On the one-year anniversary of the Punctuation And Capitalization Tax, commonly called the PAC, reviews have been mixed as to its impact on America.

Gwen Prosody, a retired English professor, has been an outspoken critic of the PAC tax.   Ms. Prosody said, “This is a regressive tax, like those on tobacco, alcohol and lottery tickets.  It penalizes the poorest in our country. Do we want to be a country where only the wealthy can afford proper English?”

The Professor continued:  “The effect is seen most startlingly with the young.  Notoriously cash-strapped teens have embraced the change.   An examination of their texting habits shows they have all but abandoned punctuation and capital letters, formerly essential elements of writing.  They have, in effect, created a sub-language they call PAC-Man.”

“Once a vital means of communication, language has become yet another barrier separating the young from the old; the rich from the poor.”

When asked for her reaction to the decision of the University of California, Berkeley to add PAC-Man to their core English curriculum, Professor Prosody responded with a sound best described as a snort.

Congressman Ed Snollygoster, author of the PAC tax legislation, defended his signature project.  “When this investment in our future was passed into law, doomsayers predicted it would mark the end of civilization as we know it.  After one year we see that the PAC’s effects have been overwhelmingly positive.  I don’t count the actions of a fringe group of youngsters, who are always looking for ways to tweak the establishment’s nose.” the congressman added with a laugh.

Snollygoster continued: “While budget estimates may have been a bit optimistic, the PAC has still brought much needed revenue into the nation’s coffers.  After all, if we want America to continue to lead the world with such endeavors as the National Cowboy Poetry Gathering, the money must come from somewhere.” 

Media mogul Rupert Murdoch today issued the following press release:

“News Corporation publications will adopt the PAC-Man styling for all of our written media, effective immediately this includes online content newspapers and magazines is this an attempt to avoid paying taxes definitely murdoch said not we look upon this as an opportunity to enhance the English language confusion should be short-lived as we adapt to the new style we hope young adults will assist their elders death and taxes are not the only certainties in life he continued so is change

in a related announcement congressman snollygoster today proposed an amendment to the tax code which would add a tax on spaces tothepactheamendedtaxwouldbecalledthespac

Posted in General Ramblings | Tagged , , , , , , , , , | 35 Comments

Big Brother Marketing: A Nightmare In One Act

Posted on November 1, 2011 by pegoleg

I Can't Believe You Don't Want To Buy This Printer!

A scene in the not too distant future…

Location: Staples Advanced Marketing Division office.  Two men are working before a large computer screen.

Young Marketing Intern: “OK, it’s 3 in the afternoon and target market “Peg” is napping.”  (screen before him shows middle aged woman, face down on the quarterly tax return documents spread all over her desk.  She is drooling slightly.)

Order Fulfillment Supervisor:  “Access last 3 months buying history.”

Intern:  “Program is working, working… target has purchased lots of paper, ink…”

Supervisor:  “Integrate online viewing history.”

Intern: “Integrating data…looks like just yesterday her mouse hovered for 4.8 seconds over the HP LaserJet P2035n printer.  Wait a minute, wait a minute… (voice rises excitedly) AND the HP LaserJet P2055dn for 3.7 minutes.  Repeat, 3.7 minutes!  Looks like we’ve got a live one here, boss!”

Supervisor: (hunkers down in executive chair like Captain Kirk getting set to outrun the Klingons)  “OK, this is where it gets tricky.  Access target’s online movie viewing and music selections for the last 2 months.” (screen splits to show sleeping woman, along with columns of data scrolling down.) “Hmmm.  Listens to classic America, Bread, Three Dog Night, … aha!  John Denver!  Cue the Nature Lover Dream, lowest sound and sensory emanation from her desktop.  A little louder, a little louder…careful, for pete’s sake, do you want to wake her up?”

The atmosphere is tense in the office as the intern types rapidly.  The screen changes, comes into focus.  Picture shows the target’s dream.  She is reclining in a field of clover on a bright, summer day.   Slowly, like the Cheshire Cat, the HP LaserJet P2055dn printer appears next to her under the tree.

Several moments pass.  The woman on screen shows no interest in the printer.  “Peg” continues to weave daisy chains and hum “Rocky Mountain High”, slightly off key.  The Supervisor frowns.

Supervisor:  “She’s not going for it.  Access Personal Online Viewing After-Hours-When-Boss-is-Gone history.”

Intern: (looks uneasy, hesitates.)  “Do you think we should?  I mean, isn’t that kind of illegal?”

Supervisor: (grips arms of chair, shouts) “Just do it, man!  I’m not letting this one slip away.”

(Hazy split screen comes into focus, various images flash quickly by.)

Supervisor: (face breaks into an evil smile)  “Bingo!  We’ve got her now.”

On screen, a man riding a black stallion comes through the field toward the reclining woman.   They reach the fence and the horse rears up, then settles down as the man vaults lightly from its back.  He is a large man with a flowing mane of hair, skintight black pants and high boots, and a poet/pirate shirt unbuttoned to the navel. 

It is Fabio of romance novel and I-Can’t-Believe-It’s-Not-Butter fame. 

Fabio approaches the reclining woman, lifts her effortlessly in his mammoth arms and sets her tenderly atop the HP LaserJet P2055dn printer. 

Fabio begins nibbling her neck and murmurs in a low, seductive growl “…quiet function and ink-saving capabilities mean that you’ll get 35ppm at 1200 x 1200 dpi, with a duty cycle of up to 50,000 pages…” 

As the screen shot fades, the woman’s head falls back on his strong shoulder.  She moans, softly.

I get emails from Staples with special coupons and deals on office supplies.  In recent months, they have sent emails requesting my feedback on many of the specific products I have purchased, whether online or in the local store.  That kind of tracking is worrisome.  Last week I got an email extolling the virtues of two printers.  Why these two?  I had specifically looked at their features on the Staples’ website the day before.

Be afraid.  Be very afraid.

Posted in General Ramblings | Tagged , , , , , , , , , | 45 Comments

Looking for Mr. Morpheus

Posted on October 27, 2011 by pegoleg

 

There is a special time in a girl’s life when the mysteries of her sex are revealed to her.   It’s a magical time of change and growth.  She becomes a woman. 

Time passes.  Hopes & dreams.   Babies may come, then grow up & out.  Highs & lows.   Good & bad.  Time passes.

Finally, a girl reaches another special time of life.  It’s a magical time of change and growth.  Womanhood spits her out.  

If a girl becomes a woman when she starts menstruation, what does she turn into when she’s done with the process?  A chipmunk?  A coffee table?  How about a menopausal crone?

I wore a stylish, new wool sweater to work the other day.  A 30-year-old co-worker was in my office when the hot flash hit.  I discreetly tried unbuttoning the topmost of the sweater’s delicate pearl buttons.  A bit of breeze might help.  My internal temperature built.  Can’t get the little thing out of the hole.  I tugged harder on the button, starting to sweat.  What, are these buttons super glued on?  I pushed up the sleeves.   I don’t care if I rip the damn things off!

I knocked the chair over as I sprang to my feet, pulling the devil’s straightjacket of burning hellfire over my head in one violent move.    I stood there in just a cami, sweating and panting as my co-worker backed slowly out of my office.   She kept her eyes on me like you would if you had just discovered a strange pit bull in your backyard.  Good riddance to her and her 30-year-old hormones.

My poor sister, Terry, has it much worse than I with the hot flashes from hell.  Lately, life is…

On with the shirt, off with the shirt.
On with the blanket, off with the blanket. 
“Open the window – I’m dying in here.”  “Shut that window – what are you trying to do, freeze me to death?”

Her husband, Pat, suffers in silence.  If he knows what’s good for him.

The sweater incident was unusual for me.   Hormone supplements keep my internal temperature pretty much under control.   My problem is that, thanks to “the change”, Morpheus and I are no longer friends.

I can’t sleep.

Falling asleep is no problem – it’s staying that way.  After a couple of hours, I wake up.  Toss and turn.  Think about things.  Doze for a few minutes.  Toss and turn.  Worry.  Think and worry and think and ponder and worry and think.  My sleep-deprived brain is going on and on about things I haven’t done.   Things I have done.  Things that I have no control over.  Things like not being able to sleep.

I know that a lot of people have trouble sleeping.   I shouldn’t complain.   It’s just that I’ve been spoiled for all these years.  I’m used to telling my body it’s sleepy time, and off we go, hand in hand.  We’re down, instantly, and out until the alarm goes off in the morning and it’s time to struggle up through layers of lovely, restful REM sleep.

I could ask my Mom about this.  She was going through “the change” for 15 years, as near as I could tell, so she’s an expert.  On second thought, I’d better not.  We don’t like to talk about The Dark Years. 

Friends have given me lots of hints for coping with sleeplessness, and tonight I’m going to try them all.   I’ll sip a nice mug of warm milk and listen to Brahms’s Lullaby.   I’ll do gentle yoga movements in a dimly lit room.  Then I’ll finish up by downing an economy-sized bottle of Boone’s Farm Strawberry Hill wine. 

Lights out!

Posted in General Ramblings | Tagged , , , , , , , , | 69 Comments

Biggest Loser: Family Edition. Who Stole The Kishka?

Posted on October 25, 2011 by pegoleg

Warning!!!  The following may not be suitable for more sensitive readers.

After a long, hard summer of the family weight-loss challenge, the pounds are really coming off.  “That’s great!” you say.  “Whoo hoo!” you enthuse.   “You must be thrilled.” you gush.  I am.  But…

I may have mentioned before that I’m a bit of a pessimist.   Here’s the proof.  I’ve dropped a whole bunch of lbs.   I’m working out.  I’m eating right.   My heart and lungs are great and I should be doing the happy dance all the way to healthy town.  Yet here I am, asking a question first made famous by polka king Frankie Yankovic:

Who Stole the Kishka?  

For those not familiar with polkas or Polish food, a kishka is a type of sausage.  One line of this song in particular keeps repeating, over and over in my brain.  (Don’t ask me WHY I remember the words to this song, which I haven’t heard since high school):

Round and firm and fully packed,
It was hanging on the rack.
Someone stole the kishka,
When I turned my back.

While I’ve been busy dieting, my nice, firm chubbiness has been emptying out.  Someone stole my kishka.

Think of… balloons 3 hours after the last kid has left the birthday party…shot elastic in an old pair of underwear…

The sad fact of weight loss past a certain age is that the body just doesn’t snap back the way it once did.   The fat cells may cough up their contents, but they don’t leave.  They never leave.  They wait around, limply, counting the days until you take one teeny, tiny baby step off the straight and narrow diet path.  Then ZAP!!!  They fill themselves back up almost overnight.

It is ridiculous to think like this – you’re right.   I’m not doing it any more.  From now on, I’m going to concentrate on my newfound healthiness, and enjoy life.  Time to do more traveling.  I’ve always wanted to see South America.  And I hear they’ve perfected a procedure down there called the Brazilian Butt Lift…

Posted in Biggest Loser: Family Edition | Tagged , , , , , , , , | 42 Comments

Banking Days And Boogie Nights

Posted on October 21, 2011 by pegoleg

Me and JT boogie down.

I was heading into the bank drive-through when The Hustle came on the oldies station.  I cranked it up.  My sensible Toyota Rav-4 morphed into a time machine and I was transported back to “Uncle Dunkels“.  Disco is king and this is the bar of choice in my hometown for 19-year-old dancing queens like me.

My girlfriends and I have been lucky enough to snag a tiny, rickety table at the side of the dance floor.  Each of us is nursing a Sloe Gin Fizz or Tootsie Roll – drinks are expensive here, so you only order one.  When The Hustle comes on, we all jump up and take our rightful places.  This is one of the few dances you can do without waiting for some guy to take you out on the floor.

You’ve got to be careful out here.  The squares of multi-colored lights that make up the dance floor flash in time with the music.  They can bring on a seizure.  You could fall off the edge of the platform.  Even more likely, you can lose an eye to a flying mane of Farrah Fawcett hair.  We all have the same hairdo.  Each strand on our heads has been stiffened to lethal weapon status by a crust of heat-&-humidity-defying Aqua Net.

Several hits of 180-proof vodka in the parking lot have us lubricated to the point that we’re dancing fluid and easy. (step back, back, back, back; step up, up, up, up)   The floor isn’t big, but we all know the steps and soon everyone is synchronized.  (spin left, 2 ,3, 4 then right, 2, 3, 4) 

It’s mainly girls out here.  Most of the guys are lounging around the perimeter of the floor in their Qiana shirts and puka-shell necklaces, the better to check out the talent.

They don’t really care how much dancing talent we have, though.   They just want to see the equipment move.

I close my eyes and I am Karen Lynn Gorney in Saturday Night Fever.  I had a dress just like the one in the poster, except it was yellow.   I’m not Donna Pescow because she never gets John Travolta.  I don’t know why – I like her better than Karen, even if she’s chubby, and I think she’s a better dancer.  But that’s just my opinion.   John didn’t ask me what I think.  (tap front, 2; tap back, 2; tap front, then back; then to the side, ¼ turn hop) 

Now John Travolta is begging me to be his dance partner for the next big competition because I’m the smoothest white girl on the floor. (reach up right, plunge down left; again, up right to down left, hips swinging)

I’m spinning my arms and squirming in my seat, singing at the top of my lungs when I become aware that the 22-year-old bank teller is looking at me.  She’s done with my transaction and is waiting for me to remove my receipt from her drawer.  The expression of polite friendliness that she knows she is supposed to wear is losing a battle for supremacy with “are you kidding me?” horror.

I shrug my shoulders – “what are you gonna do?” – smile sheepishly and grab the receipt before exiting quickly.  I stop short of a full squeal-of-tires-peel-out because, after all, I have to live in this town in the here and now.

If John Travolta had picked me, we would have wiped the floor with the competition.

Posted in General Ramblings | Tagged , , , , , , , | 42 Comments

Where’s WordPress?

Posted on October 20, 2011 by pegoleg

Let's all play!

As I’m sure all WordPress regulars have noticed, Freshly Pressed is stuck.  The same posts have been on the front page for the better part of a week.  They are all fine posts, no doubt, but we know this is a major malfunction because NONE OF THEM IS MINE!

This has everybody asking:  Where’s WordPress?

I’ve heard various theories:

  • Corporate retreat in the Bahamas
  • Budapest 
  • Occupying Wallstreet
  • Mourning Steve Jobs
  • Packing for The Rapture tomorrow
  • Getting a head start on the weekend

I checked out the Support forums this afternoon (Thursday) and one of the regular volunteers had posted the following:

Support is closed while the company meets up and works together for the next week. We will be back on October 29th.

Whoa!  That’s like a 2 week vacation.  For everybody in the company?  At the same time?  Weird.  Very weird.

I guess there’s nothing to do but go about our regular business of blogging and commenting and creating general mayhem, unless and until someone turns out the light here.  But I admit to having an uneasy feeling…

Posted in General Ramblings | Tagged , , , , | 93 Comments

Smartphone Apps We Could Really Use

Posted on October 18, 2011 by pegoleg

You can’t play Angry Birds all the time.  Wouldn’t it be great if you could find smartphone apps to help when you have to deal with real life?

Look no further.

Turn your phone into a personal speech modifier with an exciting array of apps from Peg-Co.  Introducing the Oration Betterification Compilation Suite.   

Jethro-to-Jeeves App:  Vocabulary and delivery not too impressive?  Need a little help smoothing out the rough edges?  The Jethro-to-Jeeves App takes your pitiful utterances, and crafts them into what you would have said if you had the smarts.

Here’s how its lexiconical magic can work for you in court, for example:

     Before…
“Nu-uh! I warn’t doin’ no 80 in a school zone, and if that @&*# cop warn’t suckin’ on a donut with his thumb uppen his ass, ‘steada doin’ his job, he’d a seen it straight!’  

     After…
“There must be some mistake, your Honor. I would never exceed the posted speed limit, especially not near an educational establishment, where doing so may put a youngster in peril.  Perhaps the constable was distracted by a crime taking place in the bakery?”

Which comment do you think has a better chance of getting you out of a $350 speeding ticket?

Tower of Babel App: Four years of high school French and all you’ve mastered is “the pen is on the table”?  Forget all that confusing conjugation and memorization and let the Tower of Babel App translate for you.  Now you can find out what the little waitresses down at the China Palace REALLY think when you and your wide-load American friends belly up to their all-you-can-eat buffet.

Lifebuoy App:    Has anyone ever said you should have your mouth washed out with soap? Do you drop the F-bomb like some people say “um”?  That’s all well and good when you’re shooting the bull with the boys down at the garage, but not so great if you’re exchanging pleasantries with the Queen.  Speak into your phone and the Lifebuoy App scrubs your speech of offensive words, leaving it fresh as a daisy.

    Before…
“I dropped a %&$# wrench on my foot!  @#$%!”

    After…
“I dropped a wrench on my foot!  Golly, that smarts!”

Muffler App:  Burning to tell your mother-in-law exactly what you think of her, but you’re in church?  Dishing the dirt with a girlfriend at Wal-Mart, but you suspect the person next to you in line may be the subject’s mother?  Activate the Muffler App.  Just speak into your phone and it sucks all the volume out of your voice.  The person on the other end of the line is the only one who can hear you. 

Better than a Cone of Silence!

(Check out the Muffler Unraveler App, perfect for listening in on other people’s calls.  Unraveler sold separately.) 

Scrivener App: How often have you been stuck in traffic when creative lightning strikes?  If you wait until you get to your computer, that brilliant idea for a best seller will be gone like a puff of smoke waved away by a born-again-ex-smoker.  The Scrivener App translates your spoken words into print.  Now you can dictate while ordering Big Macs in the drive-thru, then easily incorporate your gems into Word documents or WordPress drafts later on. 

Don’t let the next, great train of thought leave the station without you aboard. 

 

With the Oration Betterification Compilation apps, even stupid people can use their smartphones wisely.  Because…Peg-Co puts the “smart” in smartphones.  

*Peg-Co is a division of Peg-O-Leg Industries.  All rights reserved.  Peg-Co is not responsible for anything bad that might happen. 

              

Posted in General Ramblings, Peg-Co Catalog | Tagged , , , , , , , , | 36 Comments

A Cupdate

Posted on October 17, 2011 by pegoleg

In last week’s blog post, A Cup, A Cup, A Cup, A Cup of Sodium Caseinate I detailed my disgust and disappointment with a tasteless bottle of chemicals  masquerading as Pumpkin Spice coffee creamer.   Although you don’t have to have read that post before this one, you won’t want to miss the clever writing and laugh-out-loud hilarity contained therein.  So go on back and check it out.  Don’t worry.  We’ll wait.

My sister-in-law Lisa, and talented artist Jean at Snoring Dog Studios both urged me not to give up on the whole galaxy of pumpkin coffees until I tried Starbucks’ pumpkin latte.  They raved, and I was intrigued.

Not a coffee bean.

Saturday I drove 1-1/2 hours up to Chicago, for no other reason than to try the pumpkin latte.  Well, I might have done a few other things as well, like…

    • Tour the beautifully restored, 100-year-old Monroe Building
    • Stroll through the Chicago Cultural Center and admire the architecture, views and Tiffany stained glass windows
    • People watch in the sunshine over lunch in Millennium Park
    • Shop, shop and shop at Filene’s Basement, Nordstrom’s Rack, Marshall Fields/Macys, etc, etc, etc.

gimme a latte

    It seemed all walks of life and just about every country on earth were admiring their reflections in the bean at Millennium Park.  I saw a group of 7 Buddhist monks, and no less than 5 wedding parties there.  I can report that navy blue seems to be the hot color this fall.  For bridesmaids, that is.  The monks were sticking with saffron.

As the sun set, it was time to get out of Dodge (meaning Chicago). I stopped at Starbucks for the promised pumpkin latte before heading to my car.   I exhorted the barrista to make it as skinny as possible, since I’m trying to get my body that way.  The two amply padded counter girls tried to talk me into the whipped cream, but I remained firm.

Just a gal and her latte, lose in the big city.

My verdict?  Drum roll please…I give it Peg-o-leg’s highest rating:

Yum-o-licious!

It was definitely worth the trouble, and the almost $4 price tag as a special splurge.  This experience has taught me an important lesson in trying new things.  And, equally important, that I should never again approach the shoe department at Nordstrom’s Rack without leaving my credit card at home.

Posted in General Ramblings | Tagged , , , , , | 34 Comments

Happy Anniversary, Baby!

Posted on October 14, 2011 by pegoleg

It’s my anniversary.   I first put cyber pen to paper at WordPress one year ago today.

My sister Lib and I went to Ireland in 2009.   I was sending excruciatingly detailed emails of our trip to my family, and someone suggested I start a blog.  I think those NOT interested in the travelogue thought this way they could keep their inboxes unsullied.   I started out over at Blogspot.  For several months I reconstituted notes from our trip.  As one familial pundit so eloquently put it, reading about it took 4 times longer than the trip itself.  (Some might say cruel as opposed to eloquent, but I digress.)  After I typed the last paragraph detailing our fond farewells to the Emerald Isle, I stopped blogging.

Fast forward nearly one year.  Once again my long, involved emails on the rant-of-the-week resulted in the suggestions (dare I say desperate pleas?) that I resurrect the blog, and kill the lengthy emails.  So I did, this time hoping for a wider audience.

I cast my pearls before swine over at Blogspot for 2 months, and became increasingly frustrated by how hard it was for readers to leave comments.  Just in case I got some.  Readers, I mean.   My cousin Ann said WordPress was more user-friendly.  I took a leap of faith, and the rest, as they say, is history. 

My first blog was a pithy, 2-line announcement that I had just moved into the WordPress neighborhood.  Nobody came over with cookies.  For the first month here, I was greatly hampered by the fact that I didn’t know about tags, and couldn’t figure out how to post pictures.

The world was not impressed.

I finally figured out pictures and tags and two months after coming onboard I was Freshly Pressed with the post My Sister-In-Law Is Ruining The U. S. Economy.  This extraordinary event finally brought that most elusive of all creatures to my blog, the reader-not-related-by-blood-or-marriage.   It also marked the beginning of some very special friendships.

One year in and my stats are all about the fours.  I’m not setting the world on fire, but I’m pleased that I’ve just passed:

  • 40,000 hits
  • 4,000 comments (some not even made by me)
  • 4 Freshly Pressed posts

I’m shooting for a new 4 – 400 subscribers.  Tell your friends.

The sheer talent of many of the bloggers I have met on WordPress has me in awe.  I am privileged to call some of you blogging buddies.  These relationships have come to mean a great deal to me. 

Here’s to us exchanging ideas, both great and goofy, for years to come!  (Raises crystal cyber glass of uber-expensive champagne in salute.)

By the way, if any of you are looking for gift ideas, the usual suggestion for the first anniversary is paper.  I prefer mine to be green, contain pictures of dead presidents, and be negotiable.

Posted in General Ramblings | Tagged , , , , , , , | 65 Comments