just call me Pithy Nicole Smith

Occasionally I have blond moments. Really, really blond moments. But this week I’ve been platinum blond, all effing week.

It started on Monday when Gaysian emailed me about lunch before this weekend’s concert. Le Coachie remembers me participating in the lunch convo that I apparently had on Sunday. I had no clue they had such a convo, much less that I was an active participant. Then later that day I tried to microwave my salad.

Later that week I emailed Flippy a get well/you’re-hungover-not-sick email after Le Coachie told me Flips was sick. Right after I sent it, another co-worked IM’d me to tell me she was sick and with the exact same symptoms. An epidemic perhaps? No, epic blond moment. Flippy’s name and sick co-worker’s name sound a lot alike when you’re channeling Anna Nicole.

Then that night I called my mummy to chat and I inquired about a cousin she had been talking to. Recently married to a citizen, his papers were in the works, but he hasn’t been able to visit Colombia. Not even for his daughter’s (my 3rd or 4th cousin I think…the numbers confuse me) graduation from medical school. (As an aside, 3 of my cousins graduated med school. And every time I’ve visited them I’ve been unemployed. Great fun when introducing me to other relatives, I’m sure)

My response to Daddy cousin missing graduation: “Yeah, I saw the pics of Cousin’s graduation but didn’t see Daddy cousin. I figured it a papers thing.” Mom: “JEW SAW DEE PEEKTURRRRES??? How, I want to see dee peekturrrrres!!” Me: (thinking: fuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuck) “um, on the Interwebs.” Mom: No, tell meeeeee.” Me: Um, on, uh, this um, site called F-f-f-facebook.”

Yes, ladies and gentlemen, I told my MOTHER that our relatives in Colombia use the Facebooks. She didn’t find out on her own, I told her about it. I might as well send her an invite and set up her account for her. Facebook on its own has no appeal to her, but dangle the Colombia carrot in front of her and next thing you know she’ll be throwing sheep at me and her zombie will be kicking my zombie’s ass. Hmmm….I better be in her Top Friends.

My Facebook fears were slightly allayed when the next night she forwarded me a hi5 request that one of her friends had sent her. She had no clue what it was, so I sent a little explanation. After that I started poking around on hi5. I have an account, but except for one friend I hardly use it. I really am more of a Facebook kinda gal. In my pokings, I decided to see who else was on hi5.

Looky there, Sex Therapist is on here…gotta add her! And in so doing, Pithy Nicole Smith missed the oh-so-important box that said “Invite friends to hi5”, clicked submit and friended Sex Therapist whilst inviting/spamming 54 other peeps from her address book. Did I mention that some of these peeps were work peeps that aren’t even on facebook? Oh, and did I mention that I had changed my profile pic to one that highlights certain assets of mine? Yup, I’m awesome like that.

And to finish my awesomeness, this morning my mom accepted my hi5 invite.

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~ by pithycomments on June 27, 2008.

5 Responses to “just call me Pithy Nicole Smith”

  1. wow- i guess your mom likes you more – cuz I’ve trashed all 4 of them I’ve gotten this monring:) But only cuz you told me to

  2. I don’t think I’ve mentioned it yet — I wasn’t even drinking that night. I just WANTED to. So your snarky, mocking e-mail was not only completely inaccurate, it was — what’s the word? — WRONG.

    Love ya, Blondie!

  3. A thousand pardons Flippy. I had no clue that was the one night you took off from drinking.

  4. If it makes you feel any better, i deleted your hi5 invite without even opening it…

    Oh, and my sister found me on facebook. Keeping a low profile, fail!

  5. […] stories that i usually don’t publicly write about are pretty much nil. (seriously, pithy — that bucket o wine was a myth.) Possibly related posts: (automatically generated)punch […]

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