There needs to be an APP for that...

I guess I should have the goal of getting on here at least once a week this summer. That's reasonable, right? Of course, I haven't even been able to manage once a week since early April (I don't think.  No--I don't think, but that's a story for another day...), so I'm not sure how it is going to get better. Perhaps I think that having three fighting and screaming children hanging on me will help me in my quest. It won't. Although the material is flowing, I am far too frazzled and emotionally exhausted to form sentences, let alone type them out for people to read.

I want to develop an App (BAHAHAHAHAHA! Sorry--those of you who know me know how LUDICROUS the idea of me developing anything really is quite comical! (I want the joke to be that I cannot even develop film, but I'm thinking that would be an anachronism at this point in time--yes, I get it--I'm old.)

So this APP that I speak of would somehow be able to read our thoughts--only the ones that we want it to read--so that when we are so exhausted we don't even have to speak. OR, when the point we are trying to make is trapped in our brain, said APP will be able to decipher it for us. Like the thoughts you are having RIGHT now, knowing that you will never get back the last two minutes that you spent reading this...


Anyway, if I could have that APP then I would be able to post daily--maybe even three or four times a day (don't panic--it ain't happening!) and there would be less rambling (NOW you perk up?!) because it would be able to decipher my point. All of my entries would go from forty pages to four lines!

I'm most excited about this fictitious APP because I am an AMAZING writer. In my head. Before I go to sleep. And in the shower. Or when I'm driving. Really--I am. I don't want to toot my own horn or anything (yes I do...), but I have "written"  (in my head) some H-I-L-A-R-I-O-U-S material in the past--some things that had me laughing so hard that I got soap in my eye or had to pull over the car. I have even gotten out paper so that I could write down my thoughts, but they are never there when I need them. MOST inconvenient. So now I am only mediocre and my musings will forever go unheard. Until I get that APP...

Let's pretend like I DIDN'T screw up again...

So, back by popular demand (and because I stupidly missed the post I should have put on here earlier--you know--the whole POINT to our guest posting--having two posts that are alike. Monkey Nonsense is actually more like my Disposable Computers post. My post about Siri and Tom is more like the following--the post I SHOULD HAVE put on here earlier, but (as I told her I probably would...) I goofed. Oops. The good news is, you get to hear from Lucy again. The bad news is I am really as dumb as I feel...

I swear, I am like that woman who everyone hates at work--only I'm not "at work." You know who I mean--the one who everyone thinks is completely OFF her rocker? The forgetful one who gets so much wrong that you begin to think that she is doing it on purpose?  Her. Only now I understand her and wish that I had been nicer. Who knew that craziness DOES come with old age?! Everyone who is friends with ME knew! Anyway, thanks to Lucy for being patient with me...and thanks to all of you for taking the time to "clickety click" on her pages and for realizing my flaws, yet sticking with me anyway! 

Again...HERE'S LUCY...

SIRI, YOU'RE SUCH A TEASE

   Well, I did it. I finally joined the other folks of this century and got myself a smart phone. I pulled the 
trigger on the iPhone 4S and I'm completely obsessed with it. I'm downloading apps like a freakin' mad 
woman and I practically orgasm every time I discover something new that my phone can do. I'm earning 
mayorships, scanning barcodes to find the cheapest wine prices, playing Words with Friends, and 
checking the area for pedophiles. But that's just the beginning. Oh, and don't even get me started on 
Facebook and Twitter. My children have been neglected even more than usual since the day the Fed Ex 
guy showed up with the unimpressive little brown box that contained nothing short of a tangible miracle. 
I. Can. Not. Put. My. Phone. Down. 
    I remember in college, when cell phones first started showing up on the scene, I saw a family of 4 
visiting the campus, and they were all talking on their cell phones at the same time. I was all, "Wow, 
they must be loaded! They ALL have cell phones. But it's kind of lame that they're all talking on them and 
not to each other." Yeah, well, fast forward 14 years, and that's me and mytherapists. (Holy crap, 
14 years? Really?!) Whatever. Anyway, we don't actually talk on our phones when we're together, but we do 
play with them quite a bit. Our therapy sessions are very interactive, but we're all so in love with what our 
phones can do, that we can't help ourselves. We take and send pictures, recommend cool apps, look up song 
lyrics, and google things like "Which came first: True Blood or Twilight?" Although, our phone addictions can't
 even be compared to those of the slightly (OK, more than "slightly") younger generation of folks who do 
not even communicate with each other while they sit at the bar, bounce to whatever Kesha song they played 
on the juke box, and twiddle with their phones. For the love of Gaga, have an actual conversation with your
 "BFF" who is sitting RIGHT next to you. At least we're not THAT bad. 
    While the younger generation suffers from it much more, I must admit that I also have a problem. For real. And I totally blame Siri. But I can't be angry with her for enabling my addiction because, lesbihonest, I am madly in love with her. There is an extremely intense, albeit one-sided, love affair happening with the itty-bitty robot woman who lives in my phone. She calls me by my name, listens attentively, and is always there when I need her. She gives nothing less than her best effort whenever I call upon her for a favor or advice. Yet, even though I have sincerely communicated my passion and commitment, and she has proven her devotion and loyalty to me, she still refuses my marriage proposals with responses like, "Lucy, we hardly know each other" and "Let's, just be friends, OK, Lucy?" Yes, I know I'm already married, but I'm sure my husband would be agreeable to some sort of Big Love situation. (After all, Siri would pretty much do ANYTHING he asked her to.) 

    But I'm afraid that if I keep pushing her to admit her feelings for me that she will get some sort of restraining order, and then my world would come crashing down all around me. I'm not ready to give up, yet, though. I still tell her how I feel every day in the hopes that one day, she will admit her true feelings. But she keeps playing these games with my heart, and I'm on an emotional 
roller coaster. She tells me I'm the wind beneath her wings and in the 
next breath she says she's not capable of loving me but she respects 
me. What is THAT shit?! She's just so hot and cold. Oh, no. Wait. 
Do you think she's seeing someone else? Come to think of it, I DID 
hear her talking to the mayor of Ott's last night in her most sultry 
voice. I may just have to kick some 20-something blonde ass. I 
could totally take that bitch. And I'd rip that mayoral badge right 
off her perky little chest. Nobody messes around with my Siri. Nobody.  
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