I’m just gonna go ahead and break every rule I can think of today. The first being: Never post on a holiday. Ta-da! I’m a rebel.

Basically, today is the first day in Operation: Run, Fat Girl, Run that I’m making excuses NOT to exercise. HOWEVER. It’s not technically a scheduled exercising day. The brilliant 3-day-a-week exercise plan in #c25k leaves 2 days in a row where I don’t have to sweat my balls off in my quest to sweat the fat off. Today is day 2 of said 2-day break. So, really, I’m not making excuses at all. Except that I had planned on getting up and getting Ms Fat Ass out the door at 7:30am. And really, the snuggling Claire was doing at 7:30, 8, & 8:30 was way more important than hauling said Ms Fat Ass out of bed.

And right now, at 9am when I just got up to actually get Operation: Run, Fat Girl, Run up and at ‘em? It’s about 120% humidity and already 109º outside. I’d rather sit here in the climate-controlled Messy House searching for the perfect DSLR camera bag that doesn’t make me look like I’m on an Outback excursion for National Geographic. mmmmm… Outback…..

Plus, it’s kind of my job to tell you that I have a post up at Aiming Low that’s pretty much perfection as all my posts tend to be. *ahem* EXCEPT, due to some weird DNS/IP address/auto-posting/whateverthefrucks, it’s not actually up today.

So really, the whole point to this post it moot.

Happy Memorial holiday to all, and to all a good night.

Do you know my last name?

I hope you don’t.

It’s not because I don’t like you, it’s because I like myself more. I like to keep a little mystery to my life.

I want you to ask, “Who’s That Girl?” (you’re totally singing Madonna right now, aren’t you? unless you’re jenbshaw and you’re too young to know who Madonna is or that song she sang.)

Anonymity in my outside life is nice and planned that way. I don’t want some troll to show up at my house demanding that I bring teh funneh to her life at my doorstep. Though, if that’s all she wanted, I guess I could flash her my boobs. That’s about the best I can do to make someone laugh on short notice. I don’t have any other skills to offer the troll at my door. So if you’re thinking about trolling me at my doorstep, think again. You’ll be bored and shocked at the mess inside. Not quite “Hoarders” shocked, but you know. Surprised at the clutter. natch

My point? I’m not one of those internetters who puts all of myself out there to the world for easy access to my personals. I don’t use my last name in anything online. I try to make myself a Man of Mystery little anonymous, but still me.

Life online is becoming more personal with the explosive growth of social media. If you wanted to, you could track my daily activities online. If you wanted to, you could find my last name. If you wanted to, you could find my address.

But I’m not going to make it super duper easy for you to find me.

My point?

I’m not going to use Foursquare. I don’t want you to find me at Taco Bell.

Today on Aiming Low NeW & ImPrOvEd!, I’m talking about my feelings about the new popular social media site. (Here’s where you click over and read that post, too, even if you know my last name or not.)

Are you scared of trolls showing up at your door to make you flash your (m)boobs?
Do you share your privates freely?
If I share my last name and address with you, will you send me chocolates and not make me flash my boobies at you for them?

Yesterday, I wrote a long-ass post (for me). But it was good. If you haven’t read it yet, you should be ashamed I DISOWN YOU read it now.

Then, go over to Aiming Low and see the masterpiece I threw together. Here’s a snippet to get your interest piqued:

“Part-time availability for woman or man to clean, maintain, organize, and cook for a household of four.

Must be available at a minimum of 20 hours per week.

Applicant must have an understanding of the expectations put upon him/her by the employer’s mother as the employer was raised in a neat, tidy, and well-organized household. Applicant must understand the self-afflicted pressure put upon the employer to live up to the standards of said mother.

Daily workload to include (but not limited to)” …continue reading…