Friday, February 10, 2012

Auto-Tuned Out

So I've been writing my memoirs. That's why I've gone missing, and that's why I've been reading my old journals.

Memoirs of a Dummy--or something like that. And just so you know, it's family friendly. No sex or rock n' roll, (unless you count Lionel Richie), but there are some drugs. Hope that's okay.

(I didn't write the plotline, the plotline wrote me.)

I am not the addict in the story, if that makes you feel any better. The only thing I've ever been addicted to, besides Code Red, is love. (Although I did try to get hooked on the Jane Fonda Workout in the 80's. Oh, my GOSH, how I tried!)

So writing your memoirs . . . it's so. dang. hard! In a draining, zapping, sucking-the-life-out-of-you kinda way. And the dreams . . . oh wow, the dreams! It's like at night I turn into Nancy Drew on Crack. I'm running myself ragged finding secret passageways in creepy mansions, or building houses with the suspects, or flying over enormous colonial ships in a hot air balloon looking for clues.

Last night I was building a temple. My assignment was to drill holes and fasten blocks of granite together from a ledge 1,000 feet in the air. My co-worker, the little stinker, played off my panic by leaning over the edge and giggling, which made the temple tilt forward ever so slightly, being that it wasn't stable yet. Oh my! The sheer terror of being off balance!

"I can't do this!" I kept saying as I clung to the wall for dear life. "I want to get down and work inside."

"So did you ever work inside?" asked my hub this morning, as he pulled his pants on in the dark. Not the new pair I bought him for Christmas, but the pair I told him not to wear ever again. (Do you think his ears are dyslexic?)

"Mmmhmmmm" I mumbled into my pillow. "But my co-worker was a snotty little stinker inside the temple too."

"Hmmm . . . that's deep!" He said. "That's really deep!" Which is the same things he says every morning when I start his day off with my mysterious adventures.

So anyway, besides helping my daughter to wrangle some scholarship money for college, that's where all my energy is going these days. And each time I sit down to blog my brains out, I find that my brains are already out.

Not sure when they'll be back, but I've been watching The Bachelor while I wait.

(Is it just me or does anyone else want to poke Courtney's eyeballs out? She's even worse than Bentley.)

I've also been watching a lot of auto-tuned video clips on Youtube. It's research really, and I'm writing it off on my taxes because I'm hoping to be the first author in the history of the world to auto-tune my biography.

I will leave you with my top five, just in case you're waiting for your brains to come back too.

You're welcome.

1. I got the rose! (Take that, Courtney!)

2. My all-time favorite, and the original genius of auto-tuning.

3. Pure brilliance. Take a viral smash and turn it into a full-blown disease. (Dang! I could be so stinkin' famous if my hub would let me auto-tune his Just Dance 2 clips.)

4. Mishka Gaga, the singing dog! hee hee hee I love me some singing dogs.

5. Even Obama's Health Care Plan sounds better auto-tuned.



2busy said...

Have fun with that! You have been missed. AND, I love that charlie bit me clip. I laugh EVERY time.

Jill said...

I got the auto tune app for my phone.
The kids love it.

It was fun for about the first 20 songs they made.

Becca said...

I want to read your memoirs. And I have an idea or two where you can send them when you're ready for such a step. Just sayin. Also, having never watched the Bachelor, can I say? Eww. But in a train-wreck/traffic-accident kind of way. Hard to look away from the carnage.

Garden of Egan said...

You are the most hilarious!

DeNae said...

Did you see the episode of 30 Rock where the big brother in Charlie had a walk-on role? He's, like, 40 now. I think Charlie is an orthodontist in Des Moines.

And you realize that Nancy Drew's biggest problem was that Ned was gay, right? Jus' sayin'.

And I don't watch the Bachelor, because I have standards, and because my DVR is filled up with Hoarders and Hoarding: Buried Alive. If the Bachelor ever decides to marry a hoarder, I'm in.

Melanie Jacobson said...

"The plot line wrote me."