This is what I call a Tum-ism.
Tum is my daughter's nickname. To her childhood friends she's been Tum as long as I can remember.
Tum is also her best friend's nickname, (who just so happens to be here visiting right now. Woo hoo!) Don't ask me why they have the same nickname, but I could bottle the two of them up and call them Tums.
(ba dum bum)
Both Tums say the darndest things. But my Tum is especially full of it.
And by it I mean wit and wisdom. (btw, she's trying to earn $$ so she's charging me $5 every time I tell a story about her on my blog. Notice I haven't mentioned her for a while, but this story is too good to pass on.)
Even when my Tum is steaming mad, she makes me laugh out loud. A few days ago she was ticked off at me because I spoiled a surprise she was planning by confiding it to an adult, who didn't keep it on the down-low. When the cat got out of the bag I had to apologize profusely, up and down, over and over, with my tail between my legs.
"She's an adult!" I told my daughter. I didn't think she would spill the beans!"
"Are you kidding me???" My daughter cried. And then she said something so profound that I swear I heard Confusius giggling in his grave. She said, "Of course she would tell! Adults are just teenagers who look old!"
(Allow me a moment . . . )
(hee hee ho ho ha ha hee hee ha ha ha ha ha ha ho ho hee hee hee)
(K, I'm back.)
Is that the funniest thing you've ever heard?
I thought so too. Until she said she learned it from me.
Okay, peeps. I haven't had a single second to put into action all the things I learned from the blogging conference. I even arose at 3:00 a.m. to do my duties and obligations, but still have had no time to hone my craft.
Maybe you can help me out. All the serious bloggers told us casual bloggers that in order to be successful we need to have a strong brand. Branding is critical, so they say.
I rose my hand and said, "Oooh, ooh, ooh, I dibs Mt. Dew! That's a way strong brand."
They shook their heads and told me I have to have my own brand--something original that sets me apart.
So what would you think if I changed my blog name/brand to Seriously, So Stressed.
Seriously, So Tired would be more accurate, but it doesn't have the same ring to it.
Or maybe I should run with the whole Lulu thing and call it The Blog Dog, or dogspot.com. Or seriouslysostressed.dogspot.com.
What say you?
The serious bloggers also told us casual bloggers that Google search engine keywords are critical to our numbers. Did you know that?
Neither did I.
How many people do you think use the search word "dummy" every day?
So I've decided to change my title to The Crash Test Twilight Diaries.
Please, please, please don't steal my idea before I get a chance to replace the red dummy on my header with a photo of Edward.
Well, I gotsta go wipe the bird droppings off my patio furniture again and make another cookie salad for another BBQ for another batch of dear Hawaii friends.
But first I need to respond to Iwa from A Wise Man Once Said . . . (that adults are just teenagers who look old--hee hee hee hee hee).
Just messin' with you, peeps!
Iwa from A Wise Man Once Said was wondering if cookie salad is as Utarded as green jello. Can anyone answer that for me? I have no idea. Shot in the dark? YES! YES, cookie salad is the modern Molly Mormon dessert salad of choice.
But what do I know? I'm not a Molly Mormon. I just pretend to be.
If I recall correctly, Iwa used the adjective "nasty" when referring to the cookie salad concept. I've heard that adjective in conjunction with dried seaweed and SPAM, and Tim Tam SPAM slams, but never in conjunction with cookies or salad. She thinks the whole idea is oxymoronic, but actually it's oxymormonic.
Get it? Mormonic? (hee hee)
Coincidentally, I found the recipe while organizing my room at 3:00 a.m. this morning. Do you mind if I share? For Iwa's sake.
Two boxes vanilla pudding
Two and a half cups of buttermilk.
12 oz of cool whip (a little more if you're "nasty")
two cans of mandarin oranges
(grapes and apples if you're really "nasty")
crunched up fudge stripe cookies.
(CAUTION: Do NOT deviate. Never replace the fudge striped cookies with no-name dollar store cookies, elsewise your MIL will refuse your offer to take the leftovers home.)
Okay, I'm not editing. I'm posting this as is! That's how seriously, so stressed I am.
Okay, I'm not that stressed. I just went back and edited.