Every morning since my classes ended for the semester, and I am home while my husband gets ready for work, the same thing happens. The same pattern is followed.

Husband wakes up. Cannot find socks, because he has not looked in the logical places.

Wakes me up and asks me to find socks.

'They are either in the drawer or the laundry room.' I say every morning. EVERY morning.

Let me rehash that for you, in case you fell asleep while reading it: Husband wakes up every damn morning asking where socks are when they are in the same place every morning. Do you see a pattern? I do.

Because generally, waking me up means that our daughter wakes me up also. Which means that I have to drag my lazy sleep deprived ass into the living room and play mommy about an hour earlier than expected. Not cool.

Another thing you should know about me is that I am generally not friendly when woken up. Not friendly at all. In fact, monsteresque (oh, it's a word now) is one of the adjectives I would use to describe myself when awoken.

Why not just look for the damn socks? I ask. He claims he does, and in his defense, perhaps he does. But they are in the same place every morning. Is he looking in the kitchen cabinets for them? or the refrigerator?

An additional annoyance in the area of laundry, so long as I am writing about something so mundane, is the fact that he never manages to put his clothing in the hamper. EVER. I have 4 hampers placed strategically around the house in order to ensure clothing actually goes in them. Now, this hamper problem would not be an issue if it wasn't for the fact that my husband, a man with three closets full of clothing, will wonder where a specific item is or why it isn't clean.

And hello husband, I am here to tell you that it is in the damn floor wherever you left it, because I can't wash laundry that I don't know is dirty.

I suppose the most annoying thing about this, aside from the fact that he has more clothing than I do and I didn't think people with penises were supposed to have more clothing than people with vaginas, is that he is a very intelligent man. That said, I know it's not that he is a dumbass who is incapable of finding his own socks or of putting them in the hamper. If he was a total dunce, I wouldn't mind locating his socks for him.

But I've chalked it up to the fact that he enjoys waking me up every morning, because he has to wake up. And I don't really blame him, I'm the same way. If I am awake, I think everyone else in the world should have to be awake. But here's the thing, I don't lure them out of bed by acting like I don't know how to find my own mother fucking socks.
that's all. :)

Many of us here at buzz are bloggers, and as bloggers, many of use have encountered our own troll or negative commenter. I generally just laugh it off or ignore the person. After all, I am sure I am definitely not the root of their problems.

But sometimes it amazes me. The negative things they say, whether they choose to attack my parenting or my character.
I realize that the person likely did not wake up on the edge of the bed and think about their hatred for me. It is more likely that other things are going awry with their life or day, and for some reason, I grate on their nerves and they feel the need to email me or leave negative comments.
I also realize that most likely want attention, because whether they are making passive aggressive blogs about it or trashing my comments, they are obviously expecting a reaction. To be frank, a reaction is generally the last thing they are getting from me. (Which is why I am posting this here, where the likely hood of it being read is slim to none. The buzz is good for ranting.)
But seriously, what is the point? Why so much negativity? Why attack someone's character? over the internet? It just gets old after a while.

Also, if you are one of those negative attacker people...suck it.

Okay, okay. I know you’re wondering–or not. Either way, my proposal for February 11th is a day of quirk confessions. Maybe you want to confess something odd about you. Perhaps it’s a strange habit? Who cares what it is? Confess it on February 11th. Confess how it affects you or how much you love/hate it. There are endless possibilities for this.In case you are in doubt of this fabulous idea (hehe), I will provide a list of reasons why YOU should participate:

a.) You need something to blog about that day anyway! I’m providing you with a topic.

b.)There is enough time between now and the 11th to develop a quirk if you are without one to blog about!

c.) You’ll be confessing your oddity in good company. (by good company, I mean myself. )

d.) You can place the pretty Icon on your blog that day in addition to signing the Mr. Linky that will reside on my post that day.

e.) It’s my birthday, and I’ll cry if I wanna. And I’m probably I’m gonna if no one participates. :(

Now, if you claim you have no oddities, I’m just not capable of believing you. Whether you pick your toes, only walk on the right side of the hallway, use only a certain color of ink, or blog while on the toilet, you should post about it that day! Think about all of the quirky goodness that would be going viral on the web if you took part?

It sounds like a lot of fun to me. And like I said, if you are under the impression that you are without quirks, you have four days to develop one to post about!

If you do participate, just own up to your odd in a post on February 11th and link back to this place. You can also place the icon in the post if you’d like. You can even post a picture to accompany it if you want. (Unless it’s your privates, because nobody worth knowing wants to see your privates on the world wide web. Keep those to yourself ladies and gents. )

I know I’ll be owning up to my odd, and it is endless. :)

I am full of a dangerous type of excitement.

So here's the reason: a while back I randomly made a post on http://www.shamelesslysassy.com where I was all, "hey, nominate me for the bloggies...". I didn't really think anyone would. But apparenlty people did, and the awesomeness is rolling off of those that did right now. I can feel it. I am surprised and stunned. Really.

I keep refreshing the page thinking that it's some sick joke, and that really some hacker is taunting me with my own hope.

When I suggested nominating me, my thought was that even if I somehow got enough votes to be in the finalists considered by the panelists, probably they wouldn't vote for me. I'm not sure why, but that's how my mind works,and I can't talk sense into myself. It's similar to attempting to talk sense into a brick wall

So I am unbelievably humbled. Truly.

I was nominated for Best Writing of a Weblog. To me, the category was even more surprising than being in the finals. Honestly, most days I feel like my writing is about as pleasant as wearing a pair of sandpaper underwear. It's sufficient, yet oddly uncomfortable.

Additionally, I'm up against blogs that all have massive, cult-like followings for all the right reasons. They're fabulous, well written blogs by witty and intelligent people. Truthfully, I read all of those blogs regularly, and I can not believe I am even being grouped with their awesomeness. (You see, I used words like awesomeness?)

Nevertheless, if you enjoy my writing and it doesn't have the sandpaper effect on you, I would be thrilled if you would go http://www.bloggies.com vote for me.
(By thrilled I mean pee in my pants, pull a Tom Cruise on Oprah's couch, and caffeine high happy.)