Along For the Ride

Along For the Ride

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Fancy Meeting You Here…

Fancy Meeting You Here

Written by: Andrea Angileri

It’s been a couple months since I’ve started the ‘I’m Andrea and You’re Not’ blog and it’s time for a moment of reflection.  There is this feature in WordPress called ‘stats’, where you can look up numbers of visitors and views , countries viewed, and Google search words.  November went pretty well with 290 views (I’m sure 190 were from me). December dipped down in visitors (damn holidays), and January picked back up.  The countries include: U.S., Mexico, Spain, Switzerland (thanks Remy), the U.K., Germany, Turkey, Australia, and Israel (to whom I say ‘sababa’…which hopefully is supposed to mean ‘cool’) .  The stats is a dreadfully addictive feature that I will refresh despite seeing the depressing ‘1 visitor’ (which was me).  Google search terms included “sleeping children”, “Punky Brewster”, and “nudity images”.  I am still creeped out by those.

I’ve also been fairly new to Twitter.  I just posted my 100th tweet….where are the confetti and balloons?  I am following 54 random people that include celebrities, mom or non-mom bloggers, and a couple people that I actually know.  I have 15 followers.  I will come across Christina Applegate’s account and notice that she follows 93 people and 1.2 Million people are following her.  The contrast in numbers will haunt me….and remind me of my place in social media.  Fifteen is not quite the 612 accumulation from Facebook.  People judge social media because it’s not ‘real’ interaction, but really….I don’t have time to hang out with all of you damn people.  But my Twitter crew is a different story.  I can actually fit 15 people into my living room.  I’d pull out a couple folding chairs…pass out crappy appetizers, which you would slightly smile and try.   We’d all small talk and during a lull I’d put on Michael Buble.  We’d twiddle our thumbs and run out of topics.  I’d slightly panic and put on LMFAO to up the mood.  But it would be too late, the first person would excuse themselves because she has to relieve the sitter.  After she pulled away, I would remember that she doesn’t have kids.  The rest of the group would stretch and yawn and file out despite ‘Sexy and I Know It’ blaring and beckoning an impromptu dance off.  I would then remember that I am a terrible hostess and throw the leftover crappy apps in the garbage.  This just can’t happen….I must get more of a following.

I did have something I said about ‘Smurfette’ ‘retweeted’ and another reply to a very funny blogger ‘favorited’.  I also accidentally accepted followers of risque dressed women (they weren’t being funny?)…I’m pretty sure they are using my identity to buy cars in other countries now.

Entering the blogging world is like visiting a different country…you are just looking for other people who speak your language.  I have come across some enjoyable blogs and comment sometimes (note ‘followed blogs).  There are only so many hours in the day.  I do have one possible guest blog post that is in the works.  Another blogger has given me a tentative spot.  The post involves the whole “We don’t use ‘Jesus’ and ‘fart’ in the same sentence” incident.  Since I went on a talk show basically because of  poop it would only make sense that my rise to blogging fame would derive from a bodily function….and Jesus.

My blog gets spam that I do not understand.  Mostly from people who notice that something is missing that their service can help.  A complement from a ‘man boob removal’ site ensures that I’m moving up in this world.

Who knows….all in all…I’m having fun with it and I know that I’ve made enough of you smile.  It’s going to be a great year with some good laughs…I can feel it 🙂

Blah-g, Blah-g, Blah-g

Blah-g, Blah-g, Blah-g

Written by: Andrea Angileri

Sometimes life is full of pretty difficult choices.  Every Sunday in our house it is, “Who will take our oldest son to dance?” My husband and I like to go or not for several reasons.  First of all, it is a 3 hour window of time outside of the house.   The parent who stays home will be home with the other 3 children.  For me, it is a chance to run some errands and have a blogging window, I like to catch the last bit of dance class because it is very entertaining (more on awesome hip hop son in future posts).  So, we take turns.  This Sunday it is my turn, next  Sunday is SuperBowl Sunday.   Since my husband has to give some random promotional football helmet out at a bar (invented excuse?), I’m sure I’ll take the other three kids some child centered place where we will create warm fuzzy memories.

“What are you going to do out there…Blog?”.  He doesn’t realize it, but he says it with the same vigor as an older sibling saying, “You’re not gonna CRY are you?” to a younger sibling.  Not much more of a cheerleader would be my 12 year old who says, “You have a blog?…What… do 7 people like it?”  I can laugh at them because I know that I have made them smile and laugh at some random thing…and besides the drugs help ease the pain.

Because my diet yesterday consisted of coffee, baby portion of beef stew, extreme amounts of pizza, cinnamon bread sticks, Sierra Mist, popcorn, and Skittles I feel a little physically sluggish today.  That and the 6 hours of sleep I got because I stayed up until 1:30 a.m. to watch ‘Ted’ (Worth it), made me contemplate a quick visit at the gym after the oil change, and before the ‘blog’ session.  See the ‘Skinny on the Skinny’ post for more insight on my ‘gym views’.

Going to the gym is a bit of a drag when you forget your headphones….it’s worse when there is contemplated silence.  I can hear the guy ‘Whoosh, whoosh, whoosh’ breathing nearby, the clang of the weights, my own non-blog worthy thoughts, the temptation to say ‘Sorry’ because I forgot to wipe off the machine I just left…but really my hands are ice cold, I didn’t sweat, and there is hand sanitizer on the counter you freaks.   I was never so thankful  to hear Prince’s ‘Kiss’ blaring in my life.  After my strenuous 15 minute session, I look at the clock.  I have an hour and a half left of ‘free time’.   I won’t make the 11:30 church service, but just as well.  I have on sweats, hair pulled back, no make-up, I know that God won’t care, but the parishioners might mistake me as a hobo and give me canned goods and money….which really wouldn’t be so bad (more on hobos and my complete apathy for germs in “36 and Trying to Rock Out the Brown Skates to ‘Party Rock’).

Left with an hour to blog I go to Starbuck’s.  With my hobo get-up they probably think I can’t afford to drink/eat here….they are correct.  I pick my usual spot with my usual protein box(over priced fruit never tasted so good), latte, and water.  The protein box is my form of yesterday’s detox.  Besides the mini soup portion, the rest of the food conjures images of Jamie Lee Curtis chasing me around flinging Activia from her spoon at me.   Oh wait…I see somebody that if I didn’t acknowledge I would mentally torture myself about it later….wardrobe check…hobo look…sounds about right.  Signing off….