Hot mess on a platter

As most firsts go I'm sure this is no different - a bottle of wine, poor judgement and a dash of moxie. While this act of blogging now gives me entree into the cool interwebs slut club (we're not blog whores, we're EMPOWERED!) I would hate to imply that I am somehow remotely qualified to enlighten people upon life's magical mystery tour. I think for all intents and purposes I'm functionally retarded so please enjoy my bumbling attempts at being cool.

I was unfortunately born into some kind of an early 80's time warp (where were you when I needed you Delorean time machine of relevancy??) and I am roughly 3 years behind the rest of society when it comes to pop culture know-how and normal societal trends. Meaning: I'm the Tina Fey* of popping my technology cherry. A little late but hoping this isn't a one night stand with the blogging bandwagon.

The blandwagon.

Feel free to join me on my magic carpet ride of coveting beautiful things, judging people, writing feeble metaphors (see "blogging" and "virginity/sex" mess above) and trying to figure out just what the hell I'm doing. Oh and home reprovements. Not home IMprovements - REprovements. Improvement requires that you make said situation better but I think I only succeed in making "repairs" that merely alter the situation. Same fubar, different reason. See below:

In part of my continued efforts to make my yard my bitch I planted a ginkgo tree in front of my house so all my neighbors can delight in my green thumb and fertile yard. Until I kill that poor unsuspecting tree. And then my neighbors will delight in making the leap from my black thumb of death that kills everything I plant to my obviously cold and blackened empty womb, lack of maternal instincts and shattered self esteem. WELL FUCK YOU MRS. WELCH!!! I'M NOT A LESBIAN (see footnote about Tina Fey) AND I JUST LIKE BEING SINGLE!!!! The ginkgo tree lives to be about billion years old so when you and my shithole house are fossils turning into the real kind of cubic zirconia my tree will be shading our future earthly generations of robots and scientologists.

So the next time my apparently barren body attempts to beautify your view of my front lawn just say thank you and leave me alone to dig that hole and get drunk in hopes of forgeting about yet another piece of flora I am dooming to a slow death of sporadic waterings and lawnmower accidents.

I preemptively pour out a little of my forty for you ginkgo. Here's a picture of what you could have been in a few years:

I call this one Delicious Autumnal Foliage a la Dollar General

This is the tree I saw in front of a Dollar General this week. They sell plastic flowers, three-year old Halloween candy and soap with Korean labels but can somehow manage to have young flourishing trees against crisp cloudless skies. Day One on this bitch and I've already been bested by a giant concrete box of $1 priced merchandise. FML.




*That is in no way a judgemental dig on Tina Fey. I love her. But not in a creepy way. Just the normal way a heterosexual girl has a platonic brain crush on a super cool and talented lady person.