A Special Offer

So I got an email from my internet provider the other day, and I was excited to open it because it said it contained a special offer. I was hoping that they’d decided to provide me with a lifetime of free massages and fancy imported cheeses. No luck. Instead they were offering me cable with DVR, internet, and phone service for the low price of $119 a month. I laughed out loud when I read it.

Who uses a phone anymore? Except for me. I think we’re the only people in the world under 75 who has a home number.

Who watches TV anymore? Except for me on Sundays at my parents house.

Who uses the internet? … well actually just about everybody.

$119 a month just doesn’t seem like a great offer to me. They have to do a bit better than that. I’m already annoyed that I’m paying $50 a month for internet. In the UK I only paid 11 pounds a month. British internet providers spoiled me.

When I moved into this house I thought I’d be able to shop around for internet. I think shopping around is suppose to be a big part of what makes a capitalist society work, but I was told that only one company provided internet in my neighborhood. It was the company I hate most … well second most my most hated company is actually Verizon … and Walmart … and Halliburton … and Monsanto … and … Anyway, it was a company I hate because their commercials are always a million times louder than anything else on the television.

Now we’re stuck together. Me and my internet provider are like two peas in a pod. I pretend to like them. I smile at them when they give me special offers while I curse them under my breath.

Have you heard about the Outernet? Now that’s the business. You can read about it here. Once they get their satellites launched they’ll be offering free internet to everybody. That sounds promising. If they can figure out how to offer free massages and White Stilton Gold to everybody too, I’ll be all in.

Toothpaste, Cake Mix, and Live Worms

I don’t use toothpaste. I assure you that I don’t have dragon breath so don’t run away yet, hear me out. I don’t use toothpaste because I make my own tooth powder at home. I have two recipes that I use. I could share them with you if you like. I also make my own moisturizer and deodorant. I’ve been thinking about learning to make soap and shampoo bars too.

Yeah, I’m one of those people. You know the kind that avoids prepackaged foods, ferments vegetables, and filters the fluoride out of her drinking water. I consume raw dairy, feed my family organ meat, don’t store my food in plastic, and talk about the virtues of a wide palate. In short, I’m weird. I think some people call it being crunchy. I just call it being me.

I’ve been living this way for so long that I forget that it’s not normal until a situation arises that makes me realize how abnormal I am. Recently, I decided to try a new business venture that relied on me being normal. Let’s just say that it didn’t work out.

I was going to sell things on Amazon via Amazon’s Fulfillment program. There are plenty of people doing this and making really good money at it. Two of the best categories to try to sell in are the grocery and person care categories. Selling products that people need and buy regularly gets you more sales. The problem was that I didn’t really think this whole thing through.

When it came down to it buying a bunch of buy-one-get-one-free cake mixes from Winn Dixie to sell to people went against everything I believe in. Buying toothpaste from the Dollar Tree (one of my most hated stores) that is full of chemicals you really shouldn’t be putting into your month and selling it at a higher rate on Amazon was just too much for me to handle.

If any of you are interested in selling things on Amazon using the FBA program I encourage you to look into it. You don’t have to sell groceries. You could sell toys or books or live worms. It’s not for me right now. I’m already spread too thin and when I really think about it, I’d rather sell my own homemade personal care line on Etsy … one day … in the future … once I figure some things out … and get my act together … which might never happen.

Note: I’m thinking about starting a worm farm because who doesn’t like worms and farms?

I Got a Smartphone

smartbabyI always said I’d never get one. I was too cool to be constantly connected. I needed my space.

Okay, I only said that a couple of times, and it was just to make me feel like I wasn’t missing out on anything. In reality, I was constantly saying that one day in the future I would get a smartphone. My phone would be the smartest of all smartphones. I would be able to use it with ease proving once and for all my truly advanced intellectual abilities. Well my friends that day has come.

On February 1, 2014 I walked right up to a phone kiosk in the mall and after having a lengthy conversation with the man behind the counter about earlobe stretching got myself my very own smartphone. I set my prepaid dumb phone aside and starting living the cosmopolitan life. I suddenly became smartish.

That’s right, now I can use my phone to do important things like check Facebook, tweet, and upload pictures to Instagram. Life has never been better. I can make sure the traffic is clear on my way to my destination and I’m constantly aware of the weather conditions. All I have to do is figure out how to answer it when someone calls me and I’ll be set.

Photo by Dave Lawler

A Nebulous Superbowl Recap

My father likes to pretend he watches football. We went to his house to watch the Superbowl and he talked like a machine during the game and attentively watched the commercials. Granted some people only watch the game for the commercials. Superbowl commercial hype is just a trick to try to make you watch a bunch of nonsense you’d normally fast forward past on Tivo. Do you have Tivo? I don’t either, but somebody must have it.

There seemed to be 50,000 commercials during this years game and there are websites that are featuring the best ones today. If you care about commercials that much go to one of these websites, because I’m through talking about commercials now.

Other people only watch the Superbowl for the halftime show. Bruno Mars was all James Browning it up this year. Since I’m married to a bass player I tend to notice what the bass player is doing in a band and this one was so busy dancing that I don’t see how he could’ve really been playing that bass.

Isn’t it about time for the Red Hot Chilli Peppers to start wearing shirts on stage? They probably figure that since Iggy Pop never puts on a shirt and he’s 105 that they can still squeeze another 50 years out of this whole shirtless thing. They’re wrong. Iggy Pop is wrong too, but I won’t go into that now. I’m not conservative, I just have a fondness for shirts. They come in so many nice colors. They have buttons. Who doesn’t like buttons?

Spoiler Alert:

I didn’t watch the end of the game, but I hear that Denver lost. Too bad for them. Hey Denver, cheer up. There’s always next year.

In short I give the Superbowl this year two out of five stars.

The Thrift Shop

My husband made a new discovery last month. It’s called the thrift store. I’ve been a thrift store aficionado since high school, but somehow my husband never really caught on. I’ve been trying to figure out how this happened, and the only thing I can think of is that the only time he’s been with me to a thrift store was when I went to the charity shops in the UK. Brits must not have nearly as many things to throw away as Americans because those shops are tiny. American thrift shops contain acres of items. It’s a regular bonanza of discovery. (I just wanted to say bonanza. There’s something satisfying about that word.)

The first time I took my husband to my favorite thrift shop here he marveled at the number of items there. “There are just so many clothes,” he said as we started sifting through button-down shirts. There were tons of clothes, but because my husband is so thin, there were only like six shirts in his size. That happens no matter where I take him to shop. Pants choices are usually limited to four, shirt choices maybe ten. It’s so annoying.

“I can actually have enough gig shirts without spending a fortune,” he announced holding up a blue button-down. My husband somehow manages to ruin clothes. I’m not sure what’s going on, but after only a month his new shirts start looking like they’re ten years old. I can have clothes for years and they still look brand new, but he’s got a special talent for ruining clothes. Well everyone is good at something.

patrick

Live from the Grammys

I’m writing this from the Grammys. I don’t know if you noticed me, but I was the dude in the clown mask on the red carpet. Since this blog has increased in popularity over the years, I’ve found it helpful to disguise myself as a white man in a clown mask when I go out in public. It confuses my throngs of adoring fans and allows me to live a somewhat normal life. Well, as normal a life as a person in a creepy clown mask can have.

Here’s a little advice from me to you. It’s best to remove your mask when going to the bank or the local 7-11. You wouldn’t believe how many times I’ve been greeted by people dropping to their knees, holding their hands in the air, and saying things like, “You can take all of the money just don’t shoot me.” Come to think of it, that’s probably more because of the gun I’m carrying than the mask. Or maybe it’s a combination of the two that makes people assume that I’m serious when I slide them a note that says “This is a hold up.”

People just don’t know how to take a joke anymore. I remember the good old days when you could stick a gun in a stranger’s back and end up having a laugh together over a pizza a few minutes later. The stranger would pay for the lunch of course, because I did have the gun … and the mask. People are so closed off from each other these days and so afraid of getting shot. It must be because they just watch way too much news. You know what I say, “All news and no episodes of Bad Boys will make you really jumpy.” Okay I never say that, but you know what I mean.

Anyway, the Grammys were a blast. I especially enjoyed the part when Daft Punk let me switch out my clown mask for a robot mask and sit in on the drums. You didn’t know I played drums, did you? That’s because I didn’t until last week.

If someone in a clown mask gets in line behind you in the grocery store, don’t let the gun in your back put you off. It’s probably just me trying to get you to buy me lunch.

A New Job

I’ve been trying to come up with a good way to earn a little extra money. It would have to be something that challenged me both mentally and physically. It would also have to pay at least $94.13 an hour. Anything less than that isn’t really worth my time.

That’s why I decided to try out to be a cheerleader for the Tampa Bay Buccaneers. First of all it requires tons of memorization. You have to learn cheers and dance steps. Have you seen me dance yet? Oh yeah you have …

My memorization skills are spectacular. That’s why it took me almost a year to memorize my cell phone number.

The job would also require some acting because I’d have to pretend I was interested in football. Anyone who’s seen my You Tube channel knows that my acting skill are second to none. Every year that I’m not nominated for an Oscar I’m shocked. What in the world is wrong with the members of the Academy?

I have all the skills necessary to be a cheerleader. I was going to call the folks at One Buccaneer Place to let them know that I’m available to lead some cheers next season when I found out how little cheerleaders get paid. That’s nowhere near the $94.13 an hour I require. It looks like it’s back to the drawing board.

I wonder how much pilots make. They are responsible for many lives so it must be tons, right? I’m sure I could fly a plane. I mean how hard could it be?

Freeforming

Confession …

I stopped combing my hair two months ago. Combs are so overrated, and I was ready for a change. It’s funny how not combing your hair makes you totally forget to update your blog. I never realized the two things were so closely related before.

So this is the sort of beginning of my freeform locking journey. For those of you who don’t know, that means I’m growing uncultivated dreadlocks. For those of you who still don’t know, that means that after I wash my hair (which I still do because dirty hair is not what dreadlocks are all about) I don’t comb or brush or anything like that. I may separate a few sections with my fingers so I don’t end up with one giant lock, but that’s it. It’s a big matted mess all up on my scalp, and I like it that way.

I decided to start doing this because I’m all about freedom. I also realize that freedom isn’t free, and by it’s very nature it needs some sort of form. Hence my decision to freeform.

I am completely aware that the above paragraph makes no sense, but that’s never stopped me before.

Don’t worry, this is not becoming some kind of hair blog. Hair isn’t nearly as interesting as my inane ramblings about life, love, and time travel. I just wanted to tell you about this decision of mine because my husband is convinced that it won’t last long. This here announcement commits me to keeping this freeforming thing going for about a year. Once the year is up, I’ll shave my hair in checkerboard pattern and bleach the alternating squares. I might have to attempt to get a real job in a year, and I think a nice checkerboard pattern shaved into my head will really impress interviewers.

I’m Kind of Back

So it finally happened. Nebulous Mooch has become yet another abandoned blog on the internet that you stumble upon one day, read a few posts, laugh, cry, and then wonder what happened. Why did she stop writing? Did she ever realize her dreams of climbing mount Everest or learning to speak Greek? I know the suspense is killing you.

Since the last post that was written on this blog some time last month, I’ve become fluent in Greek and Mongolian, earned a third degree black belt in Karate, started free diving and free running, won the world record for eating the most Twinkies in a single sitting, climbed Mount Everest, and learned to play the guitar … again. As you can see it’s been a busy few weeks.

If you want to be able to do all of that in a few weeks too, boy do I have some tips for you. First make a list of the goals you wish to accomplish. Nothing is too big. The world is your oyster. Let the sky be your limit. Now that you have your list, look at it everyday, and imagine yourself accomplishing each task. Act as if you’ve accomplished your goals already. Your mind is an amazing thing. Before you know it you’ll believe you’ve already done everything you’ve set out to do. The best part is that you won’t really have to do anything, but sit around thinking.

The only thing I really did on my list was learn to play the guitar and learn to speak Mongolian. The other stuff all happened in my head which is almost like the real world except it’s mushier and a bit more cluttered.

I’ve been trying to figure out how to make this sorry excuse for a blog useful. So far I haven’t had much luck, so it’s back to the drawing board.

It’s Time to Change

“When it’s time to change, then its time to change
Don’t fight the tide, come along for the ride, don’t you see
When it’s time to change, you’ve got to rearrange
who you are into what you’re gonna be.
Sha na na na, na na na na na, sha na na na na
Sha na na na, na na na na na, sha na na na na” ~ The Brady Bunch

2013 is drawing to a close, and as we usher in 2014 we have a chance to reflect upon our lives, our goals, and our waistlines. Before writing this post I took about a half a second to look back at the goals I made at the beginning of 2013. Okay, when I say goals I really mean goal because I only had one. Unfortunately, I failed to achieve it.

So I didn’t win the lottery. I was so sure I would this year. You would think that if you purchase two lottery tickets during the course of a year odds are that one of those two would be a million dollar winner. Alas, it just wasn’t meant to be. I spent a whole four dollars and got nothing in return.

This year I’m ready to make a change. I’m through with the lottery. It makes me itch. Instead, I’ve decided to make this blog, Nebulous Mooch, useful this year. That’s right. This year I’ll be freely sharing advice with you. No more useless tips. This will be the year of useful tips that matter because when it’s time to change you’ve got to rearrange. I’ve got some rearranging to do this year, and I don’t just mean moving the sofa to the opposite wall in the living room. I mean helping you live the most nebulous moochy life possible.

Happy New Year. I’ll see you next year.

A Mother Life

BlogWithIntegrity.com

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