Google search terms that landed here at Bloggymommer.
Shamelessly swiped from Goon Squad Sarah:

I don’t get as much blog traffic since I switched domain names. Most of the traffic I do get is sent to me by Google. Some of the search terms 1) make sense and 2) point people here logically.

Search terms I understand:

“so now I’m back from outer space” - That was a post title a few months back.
“real simple wardrobe staple ” - I did mention that in a a NaBloPoMo post.
“I need a new hobby” - I got a whole category on that, because, HEY, ME TOO! But, um… “I can’t figure out a new hobby. What is wrong with me?” Can’t help ya!
“how do deal with a bridezilla blog” - Well, this was a bridezilla blog once upon a time (hides sheepish grin), but I dont know if I can help you deal.

Creative Grammar and Spelling:

“so now I’m back from out of space” Cute!
“disney’s peppy la poo” - Pepe Le Pu! Get it right, and WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE?

BlogHer
Lots of BlogHer Slamming, which I don’t get. I had a kinda okay time at Blogher 06, but that’s because I’m a socially awkward boob (yes, yes, HELLO again, Google).

“blogher issues” - Yes I have issues, Yes I went to BlogHer when I could afford it. These are correlated somehow?
“blogher hate blog” - Please tell me there is not such a thing?
“blogher high school” - Ladies! Grow up!
“blogher packing list” - What? Like 3rd grade summer camp?

Burning questions:

“put concealer mustache area” - I wouldn’t. Unless you wax first.
“scientific name for infertility” - Is Infertility. There are several different kinds, depending on which part of the anatomy isn’t cooperating.

What the Heck?:

“lurkey -turkey -game -family -genealogy”
“hash cakes pregant” - I suggest you stick with pickles and ice cream.
“pantyliner infertility” - Ummmmm? Wha? This person stayed on the site longer than anyone else this month. I’m glad you found what you were looking for???
“pink dog dinky happy horse” Seperately, it makes sense that search landed here. All of those together? HAAAAAA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA! I think that is going to have to be The Dog’s new nickname. Um, wait? Is that some slang for male anatomy? I’m a little slow. Or a little warped, your choice.

How lame is it to start a story with the line; I got a Fisher Price cassette player for my 8th birthday? Someone had given us a briefcase full of Disney songs and Disney read-a-long cassette tapes, but Dad kept them locked in the trunk of his car, I think they annoyed him. When he was around, we listened to some form of Dueling Banjos or another.

I asked for a Paula Abdul cassette tape for Christmas (is anyone else going to fess up to liking Forever Your Girl?). I had to hear about the cost of the fifteen-dollar cassette for six months. “That ain’t no five-dollar tape!”

It was easier to swipe a tape from my mother’s premarital stash, than it was to ask for any more cassettes. In her car, we listened to the Beatles and the Rolling Stones, as those where the two bands that my little brother could stand. My mother kept a sewing machine full of cassette tapes. Mostly variations on pop mixes called “Songs from the 60’s,” Peter, Paul & Mary, Jim Croche, Linda Ronstandt and Billy Joel. I was a kid, and the Fisher Price tape player was a piece of junk, so I broke a few of my mother’s cassettes.

Years later, my mother confessed that she would only give me the tapes that she was sick of, and then she always regretted it because I played them over and over and over.

But, I love Billy Joel songs. Really. If I’m honest, I’ll admit that Uptown Girl is a horrifically cheesy song. But, I’m a Horrifically Cheesy girl. It was upbeat, and peppy, and I ate it up. It fit right in with my penchant for musicals.

I wish I could paint a picture of how broken our family was, I wish I could reach out and make somebody understand how that brokenness makes me who I am. American Beauty opened in theaters right before my parents divorced. Two hours of heaven; somebody out there, some screenplay writer gets me! I day dream about writing an auto-biographical dinner scene for a dark comedy on television. But that is not just my story to tell, and too many people would get hurt or misunderstand, so I’ll skip to the part after dinner.

Every night after dinner, I ran away went for a three mile jog. I wore my running shoes to the dinner table, and I couldn’t wash the dishes fast enough. There was nothing better than looking forward to drowning in the too-loud headphones and the cover of the cool night air. I’ve ruined my hearing, and my neighbors all thought I was weird; jogging up and down the hill while singing and talking to myself.

Nothing defines Angsty Teenage Years better than listening to a Reba McIntire cassette tape. On loop. For two years straight. I listened to it until I broke it. I’m not sure if that was more or less destructive than the year I spent listening to Pearl Jam and Nirvana.

I still do that. I’ve become so picky about music that I’ll miss an entire year of radio hits, because I’m stuck listening to Alanis Morrisette’s 10-year remake of Jagged Little Pill, or I Wish We All Could Win by The Afters every time I get in the car for a full year straight. I think I’m the only person I know who can survive a 3-day road trip without a 6-disc changer or an Ipod in the car.

Today, I finally, officially got sick of Billy Joel albums. Now what?

What albums tell your history?

-Today I dug up No One Cares What You Had For Lunch by Margaret Mason, this was taken from #77: “Show us your B-Side.”

Phony Photo Booth

This is the funniest Candid Camera I’ve seen in a long time.

I am not a sleeper.

Last night I was up at 4 am looking at sleep websites. They all say avoid television, computer, reading, and “do something relaxing” before bed.

I need ideas! What on earth can I do at 4 am to go back to sleep? I love to crochet but I get obsessive about finishing just one more row so I don’t get to sleep.

What else?

Passed to me by V’s Herbie 

1. Leave me a casual comment of no particular significance, like a lyric to your current favorite song, or your favorite kind of sandwich, maybe your favorite game. Any remark, meaningless or not.

2. I will respond by asking you five personal questions so I can get to know you better.

3. Update your blog with the answers to the questions.

4. Include this explanation and offer to ask someone else in your own post.

5. When others respond with a comment, you will ask them five questions.

24. Most of what I know about you is through celledhor. What is one thing about you that he wouldn’t know?
That’s tough. Character-wise, he knows me pretty well. Random factoids: I did more pull-ups than any other girl in my 5th grade class for the President fitness challenge. I’m still pretty good on roller skates. I love shrinky-dinks, and I’m pretty much stuck in the 80’s. Other than that: if I had a million dollars, I’d buy a house in Pasadena.

25. What’s your favorite kind of cookie?
I tried making the Nordstrom Cookie Recipe, or the Mrs. Field’s cookie recipe that was going around the internet a few years back. Yummy! Chocolate melted into the batter and chocolate chips. Any moist & chewie cookie will do.  
26. Were the bloggers you met at Blogher as interesting in person as they are online?
Blogher was nervewracking for me. There was chit-chat, and small talk, and laughter. Picture the first day of junior high at a new school, times twice as many people. Were they interesting? Absolutely. I got to meet all the women I stalk online, and I wanted to take them all home with me. There was some miss-match. Some of the women who I had a blast with, when I got home, their blogs were boring. Some of the women who’s blogs make them sound friendly, well… maybe they felt like it was the first day of junior high too.
27. Will you want to know the sex of your babies before they’re born?
I will want to know, but I will not tell anyone until the kid is born. From what I’ve seen, if you tell people the sex, they run out and go crazy buying useless pretty pink stuff or blue stuff. I appreciate more practical gifts. Same for the name. I don’t want to hear people’s opinon of what I name my kid, until the ink is dry on the birth certificate.

28. If you could pick one place in the world to vacation for a month where would it be?
For a whole month? Rome. I took three years of Latin in highschool. The ancient roman culture, mythology, history, and architecture are fascinating to me. Tentatively, we’re planning to go for our tenth anniversary.

 

A really beautiful meme I swiped.  

14. Move out, already.

15. Push him out of the nest, already.

16. I wish you thought this was home.

17. That kid is going to hate the name you picked.

18. I wish I was pregnant. Yes, I’m jealous. Stop asking me *when.* Stop assuming that you know something you don’t.

19. What you did really sucked. Don’t justify your behavior. You owe me an appology. Don’t pretend everything is ok. It’s not.

20. I am not your therapist, your lifecoach, your peacemaker, your scape goat, or the keeper of your secrets. I will not fix this for you. Fix it yourself. Otherwise, my fee is $75 per hour, with a $200 surcharge for house calls.

21. I love you like you were my own kid.

22. Money can’t buy you love. DUH.

23. Sit down, shut up, and *graciously* eat the meal you have been served.

blogherlarge,
originally uploaded by dink(y).

200 Post, and I’m whining about not being at Blogher today!
Happy Blogher 2007 if you’re there. Happy Unauthorized Pity Party if you’re not. Thank you to Love is Blond for this wonderful pitty party Icon.