I saw this cranky bird at the OKC Zoo when we visited a few months ago. Look at him, observing those who pass by with little more than a squinted eye. Clearly he’s unamused. So am I. A little.

• I think I’m experiencing a case of gastritis. Ouch.
• I’ve never had to take legal action about anything before, but it’s looking like that is about to happen.
• Once I asked my dad if he would bail me out of jail if I ended up there. I was in a weird phase and he knew that I really meant, “if I am arrested and jailed for protesting.” Since that is the only thing he could imagine me going to jail for, he said no.
• He’d rather me sit in jail and think about what I’d done than take responsibility for a protester.
• I don’t think anyone has a CLUE how close I came to going off in front of NEWS 9′s camera at that Sarah Palin book signing fiasco. But I had to get to work and couldn’t feel my rear end or my fingers (it was THAT cold).
• I despise Waiting for Godot.
• My Tietze’s Syndrome is acting up again.
• What would this blog be without a random self-diagnosis from time to time?

Dear Miss Wisabus,
My friend assumed I’m her bridesmaid. Help.

Dear Assumed Bridesmaid,
First, see here. Second, at least your friend didn’t assume she’s your bridesmaid. S’all I’m sayin’.
Sincerely,
Miz Dub

• If someone brings up the show Wipeout! in conversation I check out. Right then. Completely.
• Glee is almost dead to me. I like the music, but the plot is already getting old and until someone throws a Jim Jones flavored blue slushie in Finn’s face and rids us of his voice, I’m out.
• When setting up a wedding registry, consider the depth of your bowls and whether or not you will be consuming cereal from them (you will unless you’re some kind of heathen). Then don’t register for the shallow bowls, register for the deeper ones. For those of you getting Fiesta Ware that means register your place settings in PIECES, skip the bowl included in place settings, and opt for the Gusto Bowl. You will thank me later.
• I cannot visit the “Confessions” section of the Pioneer Woman blog without Usher’s song running through my head.
• It’s funny, that one episode of I Love Lucy left a permanent impression on me about the use of wallpaper. Never, EVER will I attempt to put that stuff up.
• I have a problem with my sweat not making it through my pores correctly and I’ve never been one to sweat much anyway, so that makes the heat and humidity we’ve been experiencing lately very uncomfortable. So far it hasn’t been too bad, but you can feel it coming. In the past I’ve had problems with going outside and immediately getting a headache from the heat or becoming nauseated. What can I say…made of sugar
• Heather emailed me yesterday to tell me the stereo she’d had for about 15 years almost being consumed by her pet grendel, Annie. It somehow survived and works better than it did before. Made me think of my little purple boombox (circa 1994) biting it with tape 3 of Wuthering Heights stuck in it.
• I don’t consider listening to audio books “reading.” Fact.
• Twenty-two pages into Yiyun Li’s The Vagrants and it’s fabulous. Read it.

- I’m glad I’m not 14 anymore.

- I wonder how many of these people were marketing specialists or “social media experts” before the advent of Twitter.

- Also, I can’t stand it when people only use social media to talk about social media.

- I have never been so happy to see sunshine.

- Lady GaGa has lured me in. There must be some sort of addictive drug in her tunes, inserted with technology the rest of us know nothing about, because I promise you I never intended to like this stuff. And I’m usually pretty strong when I’ve made up my mind not to like something (Harry Potter, monster truck racing, Viking black metal, etc.)

- Parents need to teach their kids responsibility. Let them learn lessons. But don’t forget to take responsibility yourself. Not all of your child’s problems are their fault.

Who clips your toenails when you’re in prison?

• I woke up this morning with my forehead itching. Really, really bad. Then I run my fingers through my hair and ICK. Don’t worry. I don’t have headlice. But it felt like I didn’t wash any of the shampoo out of my hair last night in the shower. Umm…I can’t really remember. That would be weird for me. So first thing this morning I washed my hair. Now I’m sitting here with a towel on my head and a cup of hot chocolate. And no more greasy limp hair.
• Sorry if I grossed you out. It’s pretty nasty.
• Yesterday, my mom had to endure a drama-filled trip to Wal-Mart and a crazy employee who seems to have some issues. I know. I ended up on the phone with this lunatic. This requires a lengthy blog post. That will be up later today.
• Regarding the Olympics: I haven’t met many people that are upset about Johnny Weir (confession: I always spell his name “Weird” first and then have to backspace) not scoring higher, but there are a few. And what I think is the dude needs to decide what his goals are. I’m sure he loves skating, but reality TV and fashion seem to be right up there as well. I really hope that he does retire before the next Olympics. His attitude annoys me.
• Also annoying: Evgeni Plushenko. Dude, I’ve loved you since your halfway naughty performance of one of my favorite songs. But now? Now I don’t feel like I can use that video to rickroll people anymore. I’ve got news for you — what’s going on in your brain does not matter. Reality matters. You start making comments like that and people start questioning how much of a hold you’ve got on the world around you (can’t find the link, but what he said was, “In my brain, I actually won.”). I mean, shoot. When I was 13, in my mind, I was a viable candidate to be the bride of Prince William and go on to be queen. I think we all know what a hit I would have been. Seriously, that sounds like the plot of a bad movie. Oh wait. It was.
• Oh, we have a chance of flurries today? BIG SURPRISE.
• Tomorrow is my husband’s birthday. And it’s his last one in his 20s. Sigh.
• I always thought I’d end up with an older man.
• We’re celebrating at Red Robin during the week and this weekend we’re taking my parents to The Melting Pot. Yum. I love birthday weeks.
• Tonight I will make a beautiful layer cake and display it on this lovely wedding gift from Jolene and her hubby:
  

I once knew someone who liked to talk about her life a lot. It was interesting, because her life was crazy. She would tell me things that I would never dream of telling another person, but I was a captive audience and really had no choice. What this woman did was very different though. It took me a little while to figure it out, but she would bait you with her life. Give you just enough to make any normal person ask, “And then what?” She wanted people to be interested and ask her about things. It made her feel important and needed and I know now that those were things she was desperate for.

But, like I said, it took me a while to figure this all out. Along with her need to share she had a need to know. Just as much as she could. Because (never forget it) knowledge is power. Or can be if you know how to wield it. (However, knowledge does NOT = wisdom. I think that’s important to note.) She was a keen manipulator and almost brilliant at what she was doing. Or maybe I just keep telling myself that because I fell into her trap and couldn’t pull myself out for months. Either way, she managed to manipulate me into sharing just enough of my life with her that she began playing all kinds of mind games. Asking backhanded questions to try and make me doubt myself and my decisions. I will admit that I gave her too much to work with. In the beginning of our working relationship I imagined that I would be making a new “work friend.” You know, the kind that you wouldn’t necessarily hang out with outside of work, but that you can be nice and friendly with from 8 to 5. I’ve had plenty of those. Some of them turned into great outside-of-work friendships. Not all, and I wasn’t expecting it with this person. It was easy to see from the start that her life was too chaotic (and sometimes dangerous) to invite into my own, but you’d better believe that she tried. Over and over to edge her way in. Hinting at being invited over. Asking me if I had any plans on a certain day before telling me why she wanted to know.

Her behavior became more and more erratic, to the point that I dreaded going to work every day. One day in February my nervous system decided it had had enough. I had a full-blown panic attack at work. It was awful. The most frightening thing that has ever happened to me. And when the people I was close to found out what had happened that day, they all had the same reaction — it was her. It was no secret that she’d been driving me crazy for months at this point, but I had been trying to keep quiet and not let things get to me. I never went to a supervisor about this person when I should have. Because the behavior she exhibited was inappropriate for a place of business at the very least. And some of it was downright insane.

To this day, I am pretty certain that she believes I am the reason she lost her job. She never asked me and I have not spoken to her since that day, but if she had asked I would be able to tell her that I had nothing to do with it. It was surprising, actually. I had reached the point where I thought I might have to quit my job to preserve my nerves (I was getting married in 4 months and the work situation was only making things worse). I was glad it didn’t come to that. Though I don’t feel like it’s appropriate to talk about the details surrounding what happened then, what I can tell you is that it wasn’t me. And for that I was so grateful.

Still, that didn’t stop her from blogging that she would “have the last laugh.” I’m not sure if it’s connected, but I would not be surprised…a few days after that blog post went up, my car and house were egged at close range. We took pictures and after discussing it with my dad (whose first reaction was to think that it was her) called the police. Points to note: 1) No one else in the neighborhood was vandalized, 2) It was done with some pretty extreme stealth (I wake at the smallest sound), 3) The person was at very close range, 4) The eggs that hit the house were thrown from the small area between the front of my car at the garage door. The police officer told us that it did not look like the work of kids because of all those reasons. It wasn’t done from a car. Someone got out of their car (in all likelihood, parked away from the  house and walked up to our yard), walked into our yard and within a few feet of my car, and started pelting.

The first thing she asked was if there was anyone who was angry at me. I immediately told her about the former co-worker and what I had seen on her blog. She instructed me to print that off and keep it, then to watch and see if she ever posted anything else about it. Something about those two things being bookends around what had happened — one a threatening message and, if it ever followed, a post indicating she had exacted her revenge. After that, it would be up to her to prove that she hadn’t done it. I had no idea it would work that way. The officer asked for her name, description, address…all that jazz. And I gave her what I knew. It’s on record. There’s a police report. I was not going to lie down and let this person, whoever did it, walk all over me.

Maybe she’s reading this. I don’t know. I had most of the IP addresses she had visited my blog from flagged and I should know whenever she comes by. But I’m pretty sure now that she is using her phone to access it, which is ridiculously troublesome to try to figure out. Maybe this wasn’t the wisest thing to post. It could cause me more problems. I guess we’ll see.

And maybe you don’t see how this relates to oversharing on blogs. Let me explain. This experience taught me everything I know about oversharing and its dangers. I shared more with an unstable individual than I ever should have. I should have known better. The whole experience brought light to what I had heard people complain about others doing on their blogs. The point is that you don’t know who you are giving the information to. You don’t know what they are capable of doing with it. You don’t know what their intentions are or how something you may view as an innocent aspect of your life or personality can fuel their insanity. You don’t know what it can spark in them. What you have to decide for yourself is how much is too much? What parts of your life are you willing to turn over to the wolfpack? What we do as bloggers is serve up our lives, opinions, sometimes even our families (bad move) for dinner. You can dish it up however you please, make it pretty with pictures and flowery language, contests and prizes and all kinds of table decorations like that. But the truth of the matter is that it’s a free-for-all. You aren’t sending out personal invitations to your dinner party. You’re opening up the front door and yelling, “Come on in!”

Part 2 coming soon.

I’ll admit it. I’m guilty of going to Google and trying to figure out what random symptoms may indicate is going on in my body. Searching for “symptoms of…” or some very specific keywords to help me figure out just what is wrong with me. Because there’s always something going on.

Did I mention that I have a little bit of hypochondria? Just a touch.

Well, the other day I clicked on over to Google to try and figure something out and, wonder of wonders, I typed this little phrase and before I knew it I had tons of autosuggestions spilling out from the fount that is the Google search box. It was unbelievable. Shocking. Hilarious.

And today I am going to share some of these gems with you.

The phrase is, “What does it mean when…” (there are variations, but we’ll get to those later)

What does it mean when you crave fish?
What does it mean when your eye twitches?
What does it mean when your poop is green?
What does it mean when you dream your teeth fall out?
What does it mean when your poop floats?
What does it mean when you dream about snakes?
What does it mean when your nose itches?
What does it mean when your poop is black? (Bad news, bucko. That, or you’ve taken Pepto Bismol.)

Now for the variations. “What does it mean IF…”

What does it mean if you are the stand on vessel in an overtaking situation? (???)
What does it mean if your second toe is bigger than your big toe?
What does it mean if your temperature is lower than normal?
What does it mean if your tongue is black?

The number of very serious situations that are represented here worry me a little. Some of these things you should really get yourself to a doctor for.

But above all, the one the bothers me the most, the one that makes me beat my head against my desk and weep for the future of my children and grandchildren who may grow up in a world where this is not respected, where this has been brushed aside as old-fashioned and unnecessary, where no one abides by this one thing that separates us from the animals, is this:
.
.
.
.
.
.

What does RSVP mean?

…just what possessed Shia LaBeouf to wear a bag on his head.

I’m thinking he probably heard about my brother and I planning to perform at Barnes & Noble as Liz & the Bagman (me sitting on a stool, singing and wearing my Lisa Loeb glasses and Kyle with a bag on his head playing guitar because what about playing music with your sister who’s, visually, a cross between Lisa Loeb and Sarah Palin and covers Captain & Tennille, Tori Amos, and Little Jimmy Osmond all in one set isn’t embarrassing?). Please, Shia. Try something original.

• I hate calling tech support anywhere (but Cox and any sort of support with Dell or Best Buy are the worst) because half the time I know more than the person who is helping me. And I’m sure all the tech support people reading this are like, “Yeah, everybody thinks that…” but I DO.

• I have a bizarre fear of the elastic string on birthday hats.

• I have a stomach ache from the Advil I’ve taken today

• I am tired of a diet that consists mainly of mashed potatoes and ice cream. Never thought I’d say that.

• We surprised a coworker today with a desk covered in confetti stars, super long Slim Jims, M&M minis, a type of tea that she likes, green balloons, and hats with the names of different people/things that she is responsible for in the office.

• “White Trash Wednesday” postponed. Coworker’s child got sick and she had to pick her up at lunch time. Rescheduling.

• Friday Night Lights is *Kevin from The Office voice* AWESOME.