And I Quote

"Everything with me is either

worship and passion

or

pity and understanding.

I hate rarely, though when I hate,

I hate murderously."

-- Anais Nin

Boo to Managerial Accounting

I hate accounting.
My professor is a really nice guy and he clearly loves this subject.
(Actually, his enthusiasm sometimes bugs me because accounting is so boring. And he should know that.)
But oh.my.god I want to die during class.
Instead of paying attention I

1. blog
2. party plan on facebook
3. facebook stalk people
4. read the news
5. read my blogroll
6. search for new books to read
7. text my hubs
8. read articles for my other class
9. Christmas shop
10. plan my Etsy store
11. organize my email
12. drink a lot of water hoping that I will have to pee so I can leave the room

Accounting wears on my brain. It just doesn't like it. I see the value, I really do ... but holy Jesus, I wish it didn't exist. I'm sure survival of this class is made more difficult because I know it's the last one I'll ever have to take. I just have to keep reminding myself of that. 

Survive the next two classes. Then the nightmare will end.

Information

Remember these questionnaire emails?

1. What is your middle name? Rose
2. How big is your bed? Full
3. What are you listening to right now? 'Catching Fire' audiobook
4. What was the last thing you ate? Raspberry Milano cookies
5. Last person you hugged: Tom
6. How is the weather right now? Sunny
7. Who was the last person you talked to on the phone? My manager
8. Favorite type of food: Asian
9. Do you want children? I think I do ...
10. Do you drink? Wine and vodka are my staples
11. Hair color: Dark dark brown with artificial red tint
12. Eye color: Boring dark brown
13. Do you wear contacts/glasses? Glasses
14. Favorite holiday: Christmas
15. Favorite season: Summer
16. Last movie you watched: Sliding Doors
17. What book are you reading? 1Q84
18. Piercings: One hole in each ear
19. Favorite movie: Too many, move on
20. Any pets? Marie Antoinette, the fabulous French bulldog
21. Favorite flower: Don't have one
22. Have you ever fired a gun? Yes; a gigantic shotgun
23. Do you like to travel by plane? Definitely
24. Right handed or left handed? Right
25. If you could go any place right now, where would you go? Paris
26. Do you have a tattoo? Nope and I never will
27. What is the wallpaper on your cellphone? Fruit Loops
28. Did you get enough sleep last night? No.
29. First thing you thought about this morning: Hit snooze
30. What do you have handy at your bedside? iPhone charger, lamp, glasses, book, water.
31. Favorite song: Case of You
32. First thing you'd save in a fire: The puppy
33. Favorite color: Pink
34. What do you always take with you? Lip gloss
35. Color of your sheets: Aquamarine
36. When is your birthday? April 19th
37. What chocolate is your favorite? Dark
38. Jeans or skirt? Skirts in summer, jeans in winter
39. Shoe size: 6
40. Do you have any strange fears? Open kitchen cabinets
41. Have you ever broken a bone? No -- although my elbow has been pulled out of the socket
42. Favorite TV show: Friends
43. Favorite pizza topping: Green peppers and roasted red peppers
44. What foods do you hate? Onions
45. Do you smoke? NEVER
46. Did you brush your teeth this morning? I did

Today's Grievances

1. I made spoon pens (pens with spoons super-glued to them as an anti-theft device) for the office, upon which I drew little friendly faces; the one with the kitty has already been stolen. People are such assholes.
2. I look super fat in these pants.
3. I can't stop thinking about The China Study and how I must stop myself, family, and friends from eating animal protein so that we may all live long, healthy lives.
4. My hair has a weird bump in it.
5. The library charged my late book as "lost" so now I have to fight with the librarians.
6. The coworker I hate has been put in charge of a project, making him very snarky.
7. That terrible JLo song "On the Floor" is stuck in my head.

But on a lighter note ...

Adorable Baby Sloth
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Groundhog Day

Damn you, Punxsutawney Phil.
Six more weeks of winter can kiss my ass.
I hate winter and even more, I hate this sort of non-winter we've been having.
There's no snow which is definitely a plus.
But the mild days make me long for springy days and hot summer nights.

And now the stupid groundhog says that won't happen for 6 more weeks.
How accurate is Phil? His own website, obviously biased, says 100%.
Others say as high as 80% accurate.
It's important to point out that he's only NOT seen his shadow 16 times.
Conventiently enough, meteorlogical winter runs from December 5th to March 5th.

I won't pretend I'm not crushed ... and a little disappointed in Phil.
But hopefully his seeing his shadow will hold marginal sway over that great and powerful being: weather.
After all, winter doesn't seem to be putting up much of a fight this year.


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Haiku Rant

Fingernails

of long length on men,

I hate.

And women,

keep them short to set

a good example.

Bane of My Existence

Homework is the bane of my existence.
I hate it.
I know it provides an essential function for learning but I am terrible about getting it done.
My own fault, yes. I am having a hard time balancing homework and hometime.
Normally when I'm at home, I procrastinate housework by watching television and reading.
Now that homework is back in my life, I use chores to put off doing my homework.
Our house is nice and tidy, let me tell you.
I really need to start doing it on the weekends so that I can prevent the workweek rush and madness.
I've been in school 4 weeks ... so far no progress.

Today I have to send out my team contract draft and complete case #2 for accounting.
Boo. Probably a couple hours of work, at the very least.
But after today I am all gung-ho on completing my homework on the weekends.
The weekends are full of ample time for fun and work.
Unlike Monday through Friday which already has 8+ hours of work every damn day.
I'm going to get a calendar and plan out my times.
I'm going to make more room on the kitchen table and make that my workspace.
Why not the office?
Well, the office has too many distractions.
Plus, the kitchen is nice and sunny.
... To brighten up my gloomy workload.

Antsypants

I'm antsy.

I want to be on vacation.

A long drive for reading and chatting.

Stop in Vegas for people watching and the best sort of time wasting.

A week at the beach with sun and sand,

morning bike rides to brunch,

shady oceanside naps,

non-stop mojito sipping,

rolls in the hay.

I can't wait

but I have to wait.

I hate to wait.

Ants.in.my.pants.

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A Thought

Sometimes it's so hard to hold one's tongue,

never knowing how a misplaced phrase will be taken,

never wanting to offend.

But I can't help but wonder if the

world would be better with a bit more

bluntness

and

directness.

Would we fill up with hate

Or would we start to treat each other

with MORE love

because we knew how much our

actions or words

hurt the people close to us

because they didn't try to spare our feelings

and told us exactly how those words made them feel?

What is honesty worth?

Grumpy Gills

SO.
I started my period yesterday and it turned me into a mean monster.

Usually my time of the month comes and goes with nothing more than a slight disruptance in my love life. I tend to be tired and a generic cloud of ennui follows me around. But I have noticed that when I'm not eating much and exercising hard (like I am now), the hormonal changes seem to effect me more.

The morning started out with cramps but I managed to do my hour of cardio okay. Oh but wait -- mid-workout I had to make an emergency trip to the bathroom because I had begun menstruating which jumpstarted a day filled with things that annoyed me.

• the movie theatre was cold
• my husband kept getting up to pee during the movie -- a record THREE times
• I didn't/shouldn't/couldn't get fries at In N Out
• Target no longer carries the pet carpet cleaner I like
• I was hungry all day
• when we laid down to take a nap, the puppy kept making a throw up noise
• which made me have to take the puppy outside but not before she threw up on the carpet
• and I have no good pet carpet cleaner (see item four)
• friends came over for the basketball finals ... enough said
• friends brought over red wine which I don't like
• on period and couldn't have sex
• didn't sleep well; had a crick in my neck

And now it's morning. I'm at work. I'm feeling better. But man oh man. Yesterday was one of those days when I should have just quarantined myself away from all humans and read a book. I hated everything and everything pissed me off. Thank all the gods my husband is understanding and has a sense of humor. Before our nap he told the puppy: "you and mom have one thing in common: you're both bitches."

And I actually laughed a little before I rolled my eyes and kept being one.

Sometimes it's therapeutic to be a bitch.

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MBA Application

Done!

Well, nearly done. I have completed everything; essay, resume, GMAT, application. All I need to do is enter my GMAT scores (sitting on the table at home) and then press 'submit.' I'm praying to all my gods that it's not too late for me to be accepted this fall. Curse my procrastination. The element that really slowed me down was the resume and essay. My resume was hard because it's all postal crap so it's difficult to explain to an outsider. And the essay was hard because I hate essays of that nature. "Explain your motivation for entering the program" and blah blah blah. Who cares? Shouldn't that be something you ask me in the interview? I think so. Plus, I have a tendency to either wax sarcastic or start to tell an all too personal narrative ... like this:

My desire to enter the MBA program is because I feel trapped by my job. The money is good but the work tends to be uninteresting to myself and to other people. I tried to get away a few years ago by going to China but that didn't work out so well and after a short month I ended right back where I was but sans car and dignity. What I really want to do is be a professional writer and make a living that way but in order to have the means to write a lot I need lots of money so I guess I'll get an MBA in hopes that I can make more money and have a more interesting job. I mean, let's be honest; I should work somewhere at something that is just as interesting as I am. And my best asset for management is my political aplomb (i.e., people like me). Rock on.

I wonder how an essay like that would be received by the review board.

Invader Day #2

All right. The mouse traps are set, complete with peanut butter, which the mouse trap instructions tell us is best. We have one mouse but we put out two in different places. The traps say "100% Guarantee!" so how can we go wrong?

Nothing caught.



I was really looking forward to a dead mouse this morning. If we don't catch the bastard by tomorrow morning, we're switching to the glue traps. I know I'm a vegetarian and I get caught up in ethics causes but I don't care if you hate me for using them or if the world thinks I'm a terrible person; mice do not belong in my house infecting us all with the hantavirus (which I didn't know was one word until I googled it -- ha!). I will use whatever I can to get rid of them. Invaders beware, if you come to my house, you will get fucked up.

Worst of all, the puppy ran in, saw the peanut butter and tried to eat it which made the trap close on her widdle lip.

Poor puppy.

Asshole mouse.





Hantavirus Image

 

Eek!

Hold your trousers: we have a mouse in the house.

Ugh.

This morning my husband opened the door to the back bedroom and saw a something-fast run away from the bag his sandwich from the previous night had been in. He looked all around but didn't see anything so he took the bag into the kitchen where he discovered the packaged crackers had been nibbled into. And then, if we needed more proof, we found MOUSE DROPPINGS in the bottom of the bag. Can I just say, this mouse is an asshole. It's not enough that he breaks into our home and consumes our crackers (albeit undesired and probably would have been thrown away crackers), he has to leave two little shits behind. Thanks.

I'm sure this happened because we leave the door to the backyard open for the puppy in the afternoon, sometimes for hours; she enjoys running in and out of the house) but this practice will have to stop if MICE are going to consider it an open invitation. Now we have the unfortunate task -- and enormous pain in the ass -- of catching said mouse and ensuring we are rid of all pests. I find my mind recalling the episode of Sex & the City where Mikhail Baryshnikov kills the mouse in Carrie's kitchen with a frying pan. I suppose I'll have to arm myself. I have no qualms about employing any type of mouse trap; frying pan, sticky paper, the killing kind that snap their heads off. And then I'll chuck the lifeless body in the bin with glee.

I hate uninvited guests.

Do Over

Time to start again.
Time to restate goals.
Time to kick my own ass.

My ten year high school reunion is coming up at the end of June. I had set goals at the beginning of the year, but I've been being lazy and negligent, full of excuses:

• I'm too sore to go to the gym
• I should just hurry and eat the rest of this so it doesn't go to waste
• I'm going to eat perfect tomorrow
• Okay, that was the last cheat day
• I'm too tired to go to the gym
• It's a special occasion
• I haven't eaten all day
• There's nothing else to eat
• I'm on vacation
• It's snowing

Stupid girl. Now I really have to dig in. I have to go "biggest loser" and apply myself fully to exercising and eating right. I can do it. I know that I can. For years I keep saying, this is the year. Well, god damnit. This IS the fucking year. I'm tired of just looking passable, I want to look fantastic. Soon, my face will start to look old and my chubbiness will start to sag. Best to get a hot bod to detract from my aging face.

If anyone else wants to join in my pain, feel free. You'll hate your life for a while, but I'm hoping the pay off is worth it in the end. And when I say "end" I mean the rest of my life.

Stress

I'm stressed.

I'm getting really anxious about this stupid GMAT I have to take for graduate school. I haven't had a stress dream for months but for the past two weeks they've been rearing their ugly heads. Usually they're just about some random stressful event happening, causing me to wake up with a back ache and a sore jaw from grinding my teeth. Also, I keep using the wrong "they're/their/there" -- an obvious sign of a distressed mind. I'm also freaking out (a little) because I have to finish my application for graduate school and then the actual MBA program. I'm already late for the graduate school application -- damn you, procrastination. And I need to start wrangling in my letters of recommendation for my MBA application. When I did my undergrad my dear and darling husband did all this shit for me. Apparently he shouldn't have because I am now ruined and spoiled and incapable of getting my act together and just APPLYING.

AND I'm getting nervous about being accepted. What if they don't accept me and I have to wait for spring semester? I really want to be done at age thirty. Thirty, not thirty-one and one quarter. I've been perusing the statistics of the last class and it appears that I'm at least a viable candidate:

• the average GPA was 3.4 -- mine is 3.67
• the average score on the GMAT was 583 -- I'm shooting for that to be my score
• only 14% female -- definitely in my favor

And studying for the GMAT is just reminding me how much I fucking hate math. Algebra is fine -- but most of it is quantitative reasoning, at which I suck. I've always done the worst on story problems. I don't seem to be able to extract the math from the English; I just feel like I'm reading a very dull tale. I'm taking a study/prep course on Saturday for the GMAT. Maybe that will assuage some of this anxiety. But as soon as I'm done with that I need to submit my graduate school application, finish my MBA application, register for the GMAT, apply for financial aid (fat chance of that), and then take a big deep breath.

Evolution

My birthday is coming up.

For the most part, I'm one of those insanely happy, content people that smiles all the time and laughs heartily when entertained. And I have an insanely happy, content life that makes me smile all the time and laugh heartily every day. That said, I cannot let my happiness make me complacent because with complacency comes unhappiness and stagnation. I intend to always strive to improve myself (a la Julia Child) and learn new things and meet my trials head on. One thing that I hate about myself (well, hate it too strong a word, and in reality I sort of love the fact that I'm a little spacey because for most other parts of my life I am ordered, reliable, and responsible) is that I suck at follow through. I blame my seeming inability to finish projects or meet goals on being an Aries (and when I say "Aries"  I mean that I don't believe in astrology at all and I'm simply using it as a scapegoat ... a role it has been given for centuries). But. I'm fighting all those urges and making a concerted effort to finish what I start and accomplish goals.

Projects
I will not begin any other craft projects until the following are complete:

• Kenley's Baby Blanket: She turned four this year. I intend to either make the quilt myself or turn over the materials -- whichever is preferred.
• Mom's Afghan: I started this about 2 years ago and it is very close to completion. I will give it to her for Mother's Day THIS YEAR.
• Blue Bedroom Quilt: This beautiful quilt is also almost complete. All the squares are already sewn into rows; all I need do is sew the rows together, back, and bat it.
• Picnic Quilt: Lowest priority. I bought the material at Christmas and haven't touched it. I will continue NOT touching it until the above projects are taken care of.

Graduate School
I am hoping to be enrolled in the MBA program in the fall. However, in order for that to happen I need to apply and be accepted. I also need to take the GMAT. So.

1. First things first. I will buy a GMAT study book before the end of the week.
2. I will take the GMAT before May.
3. I will have my application complete and submitted before the end of May.

Writing
I will meet with my mom once a week and work on writing her story.
I will write one poem per month.
I will continue to blog regularly.
I will read voraciously.

Lifestyle
I will walk the puppy every day, weather permitting.
I will eat healthy foods in appropriate portions.
I will exercise.
I will improve my correspondence.
When my square footage allows, I will play the piano every day.
Before I die, I will learn to play the cello.

A List of Things You Should Never Do to Your Face

Look what my sister-in-law did.
And it inspired this list.

1. Never shave anything on your face. And I mean anything -- not sideburns, not mustaches, not those couple-of-chin-hairs. You're a girl and that means NO five o'clock shadows or stubble. This also means that you will have to use depilatory cream, wax, pluck, or laser hair removal. And if you have some facial hair that's bothering you, don't be afraid to nix it in the appropriate manner. And don't be afraid to talk about it. We are mammals, after all.

2. Never over pluck your eyebrows. Better to have a few stray hairs than to look like an eyebrowless freak. You want to have brows that fit your face, meaning as close to natural as possible, just cleaned up around the edges. When in doubt, see an aesthetician for an initial "shaping" and then you can just maintain it. Plus, as we age our eyebrows become thinner and they won't bounce back from a vigorous sprucing as they do now. Remember your granny's penciled on eyebrows? Someday that could be you ... if you over do it.

3. Never sleep on your face. The human head can weigh as much as 12 pounds. Ask yourself: would you lay a 12 pound weight on your face? Of course not; that's a sure way to wrinkle yourself up during beauty sleep. But if you find yourself constantly waking up smooshing some part of your face, you should invest in a satin pillowcase. The smoothness will help eliminate waking up with angry red marks on your face.

4. Never leave without schmearing some SPF on your pretty face ... and really, that SPF should be in your moisturizer ... and you should be using that moisturizer at least every day. Nothing damages skin like sun. Do you really want to look, at forty, like a handbag and hate yourself? Or do you want to look like Nicole Kidman at forty? Stay away from sun damage. Protect your face. I can't say it enough. Sure, it's fun to get tan and look like you're just so carefree and loving life. Well you won't be loving your cracked old lady face in 10 years if you keep doing that shit. We're going for life long beauty, not just beauty when we're young and our faces can take the heat.

5. Never "invest" in permanent makeup. Makeup is supposed to make you up; it is NOT a permanent fixture, it's a fashion statement. Your face is your face, flaws and all. It is beautiful and unique to you. Don't screw it all up by adding something that doesn't belong. And remember, what is once in fashion can be out just as quickly. You don't want to be stuck with eyeliner and look "soooo 2011."

That's my advice.
And while we're at it, I challenge each of you to go an entire week without wearing any makeup.
Because something you should ALWAYS do is show off your au naturale beauty.

Shopping Cart Mystery

My new neighbors (man with scary uni-bomber beard and generic looking woman) have a shopping cart in their driveway. It's "parked" on their property but it's touching our house. That's what I hate the most about the shopping cart: the way it leans into our side of the house like it's been drifted there by the wind. But that's not the case because clearly there are NO supermarkets near enough for any wind not of Katraina-esque proportions to move a cart to my neighbor's house. It isn't even parked with a purpose, like they may have just "borrowed" the cart for some home clean up. Why is this happening? Why would they need to bring a shopping cart home with them? They have a car. They have a home. What other purpose does a shopping cart provide other than carting objects home -- which the car takes care of -- or carting around your objects because you don't have a home. Plus, I'm fairly certain that the local Smith's would consider their shopping cart being found outside the confines of the store or parking lot, theft. I'm living next door to facially hairy thieves.

I'm going to give it a few days and see what they do with it.

What Happened Was ...

My friend posted this as her status on Facebook:
"So sick of Utah winters!"

And a friend of hers, we'll call him John Doe, replied,
"so move"
(Just like that, no punctuation, no capitalization -- you should know that anything in quotes is an exact replica of the original.)

My comment immediately followed:
"I hate it when people say "so move." What, like we lose the right to complain just because we live here? The huge task of quitting one's job, finding new employment, and leaving friends and family is OBVIOUSLY the BEST option and 100% plausible because we have one day where the weather pisses us off, right?

I'm with you, Jane Doe. Winter sucks ass. And I reserve the right to complain about the weather no matter where I live. If I live in California, I might complain about it being too hot."
 
At this point, some people cheered ... well, they liked my comment. And I was feeling pretty pleased with myself at standing up to the statement "so move" because it angers me so much.

Little did I know that John Doe is an insecure ass and felt the need to lash out ...

"I hate when people blow things out of proportion.

I lived in UT for 16 years, I know how winters are and I'm in phoenix so I obviously know how hot summers are.

If they moved, they have the option to see _other_ family and friends. So, it is ...an option to get out of the "Utah Winters" (yes that is plural for _more then one_ indicating shes not sick of "one day where the weather pisses us off" but rather the whole season.

If someone posts there "thoughts" they expect to see a "response" whether its something they agree with or not. The fact that you got "upset" because I said "so move" is pretty sad."

Again, this is quoted word for word, typo by typo, excessive quotation mark by excessive quotation mark. I'm thinking of sending it off as a suggestion for The Blog of Unnecessary Quotation Marks. Now, let me explain a few particulars of the situation. Jane Doe is a coworker of my husband's. A sensitive coworker. Normally I don't supply such sassy comments on an acquaintance's status because you never know how it'll be taken but Jane and I had been friends on Facebook for a while and I thought she would understand. I did not, however, anticipate the super sensitive response of John (who seems to be a family member ... perhaps the sensitivity is a genetic defect.) Why am I telling you all this? Well, I want you to know why I couldn't respond. Why I had to swallow my pride and remain mute. Why I couldn't shame this John Doe into tears with his poor grammar and lack of originality. Why I couldn't rebut, in all my wordy, indignant, self-righteous glory, as follows:

"John Doe -- I'm so sorry you think that I was upset at you (stranger that I don't even know)! I was just annoyed with your worn out sentiment of "so move." And I was trying to show Jane that I am completely and absolutely supportive of her right to complain about whatever she wants. It had nothing to do with you so please stop trying to make this about you. It's about Jane and how bad winters suck.

But since you opened it up for argument, I would say that I'm happy you no longer live in Utah, because then I don't have to run the possibility of bumping into you at the grocery store where I might say something like "I hate these carts" and you would promptly tell me to leave the grocery store for the one up the street. Also, I would like to point out that your attempts to belittle my comment and its validity fell far short of convincing me of your point of view -- whereas mine obviously struck a chord with you. It's my sincere hope that this means you won't throw out whatever dribble is coming out of your mind and then expect that people won't challenge your statement. I'm glad that you put "upset" in quotation marks, because I am, in fact, not upset by you. I'm more so offended at your inability to communicate with other humans. It gives faint hope for the future of the species.

Of course it's an option for her to move. I never said it wasn't. My exact words were "the BEST option" meaning that I'm rating her possible options and deeming "so move" not number one. Do you see the difference? Also, it snowed today, so I took it upon myself to think that she was indicating her irritation with Utah winters because of the weather today, which is why I said "one day." Obviously someone who moved because of the weather conditions of one day would be schizophrenic.

"There" means a place, hypothetical or otherwise. Given the context of the sentence, I believe you meant "their," the possessive plural. Which reminds me, I do not need a lecture from someone as grammatically challenged as you that "winters" means more than one. And while we're at it, it's "than" not "then," you trilobite."

It's depressing to think that he thinks he bested me.
But I'm big enough to just walk away because I know the reality of the situation: he's an idiot.

Blog of No

It's Monday night.

I'm channel surfing (Monsters vs. Aliens again) to pass the time and the puppy is snorting and attacking the sofa next to me to pass the time. I'm waiting for Tom so that we can watch "Salt" which we rented from Redbox on Saturday night with "Easy A" and we really need to return it so that we don't pay a gazillion dollars for renting a movie that is only supposed to be a dollar. We are consistently bad at returning things on time. Case in point, Netflix. We have had the same DVD, unopened, sitting on our coffee table since April of 2010. 2010. At least Netflix doesn't charge a late fee. Or what about "Flight of the Conchords" Season 1 that I borrowed from a coworker approximately three years ago. We still haven't watched it.

But I digress.

In addition to channel surfing I'm checking up on various websites, one of them being Blogs of Note. I don't always love them but I still enjoy the suggestions and occasionally I find fantastic blogs that I immediately cherish. This is how I found Bugheart and Diary of an Indy Grrrl. My point? Well, while I don't always find a new favorite, I rarely find things I hate. And then this beauty was granted "blog of note" on January 28th.

The Tiny Leaf
(Did you click on the link yet?)

See the problem? There are no posts. The author has had them all removed. And then, in the solitary remaining post, she declines being a blog of note, expressing her with to "remain small." I find this ironic. Does this woman not know that she is writing ON THE INTERNET? A place where anyone and anything can find what you're writing and read it to their hearts content, with or without your approval or knowledge. She is concerned enough about readers to say her text and photos are copyrighted but her wish is to "remain small." I can't help but wonder, if her true desire was to stay unknown, why wouldn't she make her blog private? She notates that occasionally her posts "will come and go" which strikes me as schizophrenic. Is she just trying to tempt us into checking back on a semi-regular basis in hopes that we will finally be able to read all those super special secret posts that were deemed worthy by Blogs of Note? Well I'm not biting. I hate all that shit. Any people I meet in my life -- including internet people -- that play hard to get or try to be cool by being aloof are immediately filed under persona non grata. Blogs are about open expression, free access and sharing of thoughts. If she doesn't want to participate, I'm not going to play by myself.

And Blogs of Note: I recommend removing The Tiny Leaf from your list. After all a blog is by definition "a website that contains an online personal journal with reflections, comments, and often hyperlinks provided by the writer; also: the contents of such a site." (Thank you, Merriam Webster.) Considering that her blog now lacks all of the above, it has essentially negated its own existence.

Delete.