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Showing posts from September, 2011

Bleeding purple ink

Once upon a time, in a land far, far away, there lived an enchanted girl who liked to talk to herself on paper.  She spent hours, days, months, and years chronicling the angst-filled dramas of her adolescence.   With a candy cane shaped pen that wrote in red, peppermint-scented ink, she filled page after page of a pink, hard bound journal.  She most certainly wrote about crushes and divulged her innermost secrets on those pages, but the distance in space and time between then and now has made her memory of what secrets those pages wore... fuzzy. Of course, the peppermint-scented red ink ran out, and the pages of the pink journal soon filled up.  So, on she went to another journal, this one bound in blue floral fabric.   She was no longer discerning as to the color of ink that she wrote in as she continued to puzzle out the questions of her existence within the journal's blank lined pages.  She continued to chronicle her awkward adolescence as i...

Dear potential employer....

Earlier today in a moment of what I thought was rather clever snark, I felt the need to tweet this into cyberspace: Dear potential employer. Congrats on finding my Twitter feed. Your prize is a zombie unicorn. Call me to claim it and schedule an interview. Yes, that's me making light of the fact that I do, in fact, have profiles on various social networking sites and I am completely aware of the fact that potential employers now use said profiles to determine whether or not candidates for job openings might be a good fit for their company.  (And yes, I am aware that someone reading this at any given point in time might be doing so for exactly that reason.) The last time I was in the market for a new job, the social network of choice was MySpace, and I had made an effort to keep everything about my profile there disassociated from my real name.  You see, I knew that people had been fired and also denied jobs because of what could be found on their MySpace page.  Not t...

Better late than never

I like to think that with any luck, I will manage to be late for my own funeral.  That's not to say that I'm not a punctual person.  No indeed!  I pride myself for being on time.  If I set a time and say, "I'll be there!", come rain, nor snow, nor dark of... oh, wait.... I'm not a letter carrier. Anyhoo. My name is Marie, and I have a procrastination problem.  I doubt very much that a twelve step program can save me anymore, because I'm getting too old and set in my ways.  And so, I've resigned myself to my fate.  I will forever be stressing over deadlines, whether they be outside sources or self-imposed.  My favorite thing to do when I have said deadline looming is to jump on the information highway and surf teh shiny interwebz until my eyes fall out research my chosen topics, but I tend to get distracted.  Often. Which in Mynx time, is something like every seven minutes, give or take. And so, my day goes something like this: W...