I’m Moving On Up

No, I’m not moving to the east side. If that reference from “The Jeffersons” (not the Jetsons) went right over your head…That’s okay.

You might be wondering why my blog is so…white all of a sudden. I have moved my blog to blogspot.com because…my header is always too big for wordpress! It was driving me insane (well, more than usual). Now, my header fits on my blog and I’m happy. This blog at wordpress will no longer be active. I will not post here. Do not look for my posts here because they will not be here. In fact, I’m probably going to deactivate the blog pretty soon. I also decided to split my blog into to different blogs, for the sake of keeping focused and such.
I posted the promised “7 things about me post.” Go check it out.

Links:

http://www.reclusivebutterfly.blogspot.com

http://www.renewedanthem.blogspot.com

The second link is more about my faith, what I believe, apologetics etc.
Reclusive Butterfly will remain about writing and my bizarre musings about life and…writing, of course. Be sure to follow me through Google connect and vote on the poll on the side bar.

Peace in.
Nicole

P.S. Do not judge my shoddy banner on my second blog. Please and thanks.

I pretty much win at life, and now you can too!

I WON MY FIRST EVER AWARD FOR THIS BLOG!!

Maybe it’s not that big of a deal, but I get excited over the small things in life, like mail…and grapes, but that’s a whole different blog post; for a different era. My views on grapes are rather controversial.

I received this award from my fantastical friend, GryphonFledgling(click the link, click it!) and it totally made my day. It also gave me an idea, but I’ll get to that later.

The rules of the Versatile Blogger award are:

1. Share 7 things about yourself.
2. Pass the award to 15 bloggers recently discovered.
3. Notify the blogger recipients.
4. Link to the blogger who gave the award.

Here’s the deal: I will share 7 things about myself (in a different post).  I will be giving an award to 15 bloggers, but when I give awards I like to go all out. Therefore, I’m changing the rules up. I confess, I don’t have 15 newly discovered bloggers to pass an award to. So, I’m starting a segment that will be called…”Blogger of the Week!”

 

My pinkies are fiercely strong. Fear them.

I’m just kidding. I’m probably going to name it, “Bloggers with Strong Pinkie Fingers.”

 

I will be determining who wins. If you do win, you will receive a pretty badge that I will make myself and an interview here at Reclusive Butterfly. I might even throw in some cheese. Just kidding! You have to earn the cheese.  Be warned, when I give interviews, things tend to get a bit odd.

If you have a blog, post a link in the comments or send me an email (reclusivebutterfly@gmail.com). This is the only time I’m allowing shameless self-advertising, so you better capitalize on it before I change my mind.

The rules are simple:

1. You must update your blog. I’m not asking for consistency. That would be hypocritical, but if you haven’t updated your blog relatively recently, you probably won’t win.
2. Keep it clean. No R-rated blogs, please and thank you.
3. You’re allowed one submission every two weeks.

What I’m looking for:

1. I don’t care what you write about. Cheese, motorcycles, and horticulture are a few of limitless possibilities.
2. Intelligent writing is required. You’re not perfect and I’m certainly not perfect. I don’t expect perfection, but if your blog is splattered with chat-speak, I promise you all my cookies that I will lose my mind.
3. Funny helps. Just a note.
4. Boring doesn’t help. You want to know what gets old really quickly? Blogs that are about your boring day. I’m as boring as the next person. My days consist of homework with the occasional jog around the kitchen sink. The most interesting part of my days is when I climb into my sink and yell, “CHEESE IS GOOD” in Danish. So, if nothing happens to you that’s worth blogging about, I get it. Really. Please just…don’t blog about how when you got out of the car, there was gum on the street and how you…looked at it and then…walked away. You will make me sad.
5. Effort!
6. I love pictures.

I will choose someone to win the award every two to three weeks until I’ve bestowed 15 bloggers with an award. This segment will replace “Fusion Fridays” because–don’t tell anyone, but–Fusion Fridays were my way of being…lazy.  Gasp.

Well, it’s time for me to climb into the sink and yell, “OST ER GODT.”  While I’m doing that, send me a link to your blog.

 

Relax, screaming isn’t going to make the boat sink any slower.

I don't really know what this picture has to do with anything, but it looks cool.

Ah, school starts tomorrow. Back to the grind. The overtime. The hours of toil over Boo Radley’s  glowing screen. The stress of deadlines I can barely make. Compulsively checking my grades every chance I get. A sudden rise in my blood pressure and the possibility of gray hair. Joy! No, that wasn’t sarcasm. I’m excited. Hence, the exclamation point.

I love school. I do. It’s amazing. I love it. Have I mentioned that I love it? Sometimes, it just leaves me a tad frazzled. Like now, for example, I should be getting a jumpstart on my school work by doing my reading for my literature course, but I’d rather finish Mockingjay. Of course, with all the work that must be done I find my self walking in circles and checking Facebook every five minutes instead of even reading for pleasure. I can’t relax and I can’t work. I’m in limbo. Like when a movie isn’t in theaters anymore, but it isn’t on DVD either. Or like puberty. -shudder-

Because I can’t relax myself, I’m going to help you relax.

*cue Hawaiian hula dancing music*

Below are the cures to some of the most common habits induced by stress.

FUZZY SLIPPERS. O.O

 

PACING

If you find yourself pacing, sit down.

BITING NAILS

Chop off your fingers. Sounds gruesome, I know, but you can always grow new ones.

What?

You can’t? Only lizards and robots can do that?

Well…you can always get cyborg fingers. Who doesn’t want some of those?

BITING LIP

Tear out your teeth. Avoid solid food after. This will also solve the nail-biting problem.

BANGING HEAD AGAINST WALL

Distance yourself from walls.

NERVOUS EATING

Lock yourself in a closet. I’m not sure how this helps…it just does.

PULLING HAIR OUT

Shave head.

SETTING FIRE TO RANDOM OBJECTS

STOP.

Not all-inclusive, but certainly helpful, if  I do say so myself. Just remember, relax. Hyperventilating won’t make the bullet wound hurt any less.

Have any other stress-induced habits you need help with? Tell me and I’ll address it in a blog post.

New Year, New Ponderings

Image by c r i s via Flickr

Hello my dear little readers. It’s been far too long. I would say that I’ve missed you, but I don’t know half of you so I would be lying and I’m nothing if not brutally honest.

…

You’re right. I lie all the time. It’s New Year’s Eve so what the platypus, I’VE MISSED ALL OF YOU.
Hope that lie made you feel warm and sticky inside.

So, tonight, I’m ending the year with a fizzle not a bang. I’m even going to bed early. Oh yeah, I’m a trend setter. Instead of some celebratory blog post or fond memories of the year, I am going to ponder random things that may or may not make any sense to the average human being. Of course, I’m not human at all, so my understanding of human logic is limited.

For example, this evening I was looking over my eBay record. It’s spotless. Everyone says I’m an excellent buyer and that I make lightning fast payments. It’s the most ridiculous thing ever, but I feel like showcasing this on my Facebook profile. I feel like printing it out and framing it. Here I have to wonder if this is my inner nerd shining through or if I have some other deep-seated issue. Of course, I have a lot of issues, so it makes it confusing to ever isolate just one of them. For now, we will assume that I’m just the supreme empress of the nerds and that it is my duty to be proud of such things.

I think too much and this made me wonder what it would be like to be a successful, big-shot eBay seller. I’ve never sold anything on eBay before, (although I’ve considered it) so this is all just speculation, but this is how I think a day in the life would go:

2 pm: Wake up.

2:01 pm: Stretch; admire gold-plated ceiling with cheese engravings

2:07 pm: Go back to sleep.

4:05 pm: Wake back up. Check for sells.

4:09 pm: Dance in my money.

4:30 pm: Have old decrepit woman with a pet hippo from next door yell at me for counting my money too loudly.

Old Lady yelling at me with her Pet Hippo who is wearing makeup for some inexplicable reason.

5:00 pm: Have someone bring me a sammich.

5:30 pm: Sell stuff.

6:00 pm: Smell my money.

6:00: 01 pm: Sneeze because I’m allergic to paper.

6:02 pm: Laugh hysterically for no apparent reason.

6:30 pm: Watch season finale of Oprah on DVD.

6:35 pm: Pause season finale of Oprah to laugh at a funny face someone is making.

7:00 pm: Work on my jet pack blueprints.

8:00 pm: Sing my capybara twins to sleep.

9:00 pm: Sing loudly to the “Double Rainbow Song.” Over and over again.

10:00 pm: Wake up the twins with my obnoxious singing. Soothe them and put them back to sleep.

11:00 pm: Skip down the street in a toga and pirate boots.

11:15 pm: Have neighbors yelling at me again, threatening me with their flying hippos.

12:00 am: Devise world domination plans.

3:00 am: Train spandex-wearing cockroach minions.

4:00 am: Train pet platypus.

5:00 am: Eat cheese.

5:01 am: Attend Cheese consul meeting.

5:04 am: Attend Capybara Parents Association (CPA) meeting

5:06 am: Sleep through CPA meeting

7:00 am: Go to eBay headquarters where my powerseller office awaits.

7:01 am: Go back to sleep.

END OF DAY.

I’ve never sold anything on eBay, but I HAVE done some research. I think this step by step is the closest you’ll get to a day in the life.

On a completely separate and random note, WHAT HAPPENS AT PARTIES? Really. I have no clue.It’s not that I’ve never been to a party before, it’s just that…I’ve never been all that attentive. Can someone fill me in? Do you sit and stare at people? And what’s the point of mingling anyway? Why can’t you just talk to the people you like and ignore all the other losers *cough* I mean people. What’s the point of parties? Why are they fun? If you don’t like to dance, talk to people, eat, or interact with humans on any level, can you even have fun at a party? Is there a hermit friendly alternative to parties?

Are they a conspiracy of the garden gnomes? If so, I have a message.
Squabs, if you’re reading this, know that your plan will not succeed.

It’s 10:15 and it’s time to go to bed, people of the world.

Happy New Year.
G’night

Me, Me, Me

 

It seems like I’m always writing about me. How *I* rule the world, how *I* eat cheese, how *I* sprained my spleen. Me, me, me. I’m bored with me. So today I’m going to blog about you, my dear readers. From this point on, the word “I” will not be used.

You are reading this blog now. You are wondering what this lunatic will babble about next. You are wondering why you bother to read this psychotic, sometimes pointless (but always awesome) blog. You are eating a sandwich that tastes like lasagna. It is good. You watched wide-eyed as a picture of a strange creature appears on your screen.

 

Beaver-bear for.the.win.

 

“WHAT IS IT?” you scream at the top of your lungs. It is one of the most beautiful creatures you’ve ever seen. You almost cry with sheer delight at such beauty. You decide you must have one and so you embark on an epic journey to the pet store. Half way there, you are stopped dead in your tracks by unadulterated…hunger? But you just ate an awesome lasagna sandwich! How can this be?

You look up to find yourself face to face with a Starbucks and instantly, you know there’s something sinister afoot. The Starbucks seems to call to you; seems to pull at your very digestive system. Suddenly, you’re craving a caramel macchiato with extra whip cream and cinnamon on top. You can…resist…for much longer…As if you’re pushed, you find yourself sprawled across Starbuck’s muddy floor.

“Don’t move,” a barista says, waving an over-sized green straw with malice in her eyes.

Whatever will you do? Tell us in the comments below. Us, meaning me and the voices in my spleen.

I Has Hiccups

Stop judging me for my lack of updates. Don’t think I don’t know you guys sent me that basket full of melted cheese. What am I supposed to with melted cheese, huh? You didn’t send me any CHIPS!

I have the hiccups…which reminds me… I saw “How to Train your Dragon” last night and have come to the conclusion that I want a pet Viking. Their hats are so pointy and sharp.  AND they come with dragons!

I think I’ll name my Viking…Sauce. Yeah…Sauce the Viking.

Anyway, How to Train Your Dragon is without any doubt the best movie I’ve seen all year…and I’ve seen a LOT of movies this years. Far more than I care to admit.

It was everything I could ask for from an animated movie: visually stunning, cool characters, and a decent plot. And though I really like Hiccup, Toothless was the star of the show. I mean, honestly, his name is TOOTHLESS. How can you not love a creature with such a wonderful name?

I guess after such a long time since my last post you don’t want my psychotic babble about how I’m in love with toothless dragons. Instead, I’ll rant about midterms.

I’ve decided for this year’s midterms I’m not going to study. In fact, I may not even show up. Despite my total lack of effort, I will still ace my midterms.

This is all because over the years, I have collected a large assortment of minions. I will soon post on how you, too, can command your very own army of personal minions.

But now, I must study for midterms…*cough* I mean…collect minions…

How to Cope With Facebook Stalking

You know what I hate? Crumbly muffins.

You know what I hate more than crumbly muffins? Eating crumbly muffins in public. It’s so embarrassing. If you don’t eat the muffin you look stupid. Who buys muffins and doesn’t eat them? Plus it’s a good muffin…except it’s crumbly. What’s wrong with crumbly muffins? You look like an idiot while you eat them.

Crumbs are flying and…uh-oh…you just missed your mouth AGAIN. Now there’s a nice puddle of crumbly muffin on your lap. You try to dust it off, but instead those rebellious little buggers stick to your pants. Crumbly muffins have no manners and that’s why I hate them.

ACK. Now it’s on Boo Radley‘s keyboard. UGH.

You know what I hate more than eating crumbly muffins in public? Not updating my blog in 2 weeks. Speaking of what I hate…

There are a lot of articles out there covering how to deal with Facebook stalkers, but no one ever tells you what to do when FACEBOOK is stalking you. Not someone on Facebook, the actual social networking site is stalking you. You may say this is outrageous, but happens far more often than you would think.

Here’s how to cope:

1. Burn your laptop.

It won’t keep Facebook away, but it sure is fun.

Just Say No

2. Eat Crumbly Muffins in Public

No one, not even Facebook, wants to be seen with an idiot whose food always seems to miss their mouth.

3. Stop Changing Your Relationship Status every Two Days

You’re making Facebook jealous. Making it jealous only makes it want you more.

4. Flex your Calve Muscles (on Fridays)

Because that’s how the celebrities solve their problems.

5. Adopt Twin Capybaras

I don’t know why. You just should.

6. Stop telling Facebook all Your Deep, Dark SECRETS

If you lead Facebook on, it will think it’s behavior is okay. Besides, the rest of the world sees those deep, dark secrets too and we don’t want to know that you STILL wet the bed…at 22.

7. Have a Stern Talk

This is a last resort. Only when things become truly terrible, do you talk to Facebook. If Facebook won’t listen, then you should try eating a crumbly muffin WHILE giving it a stern talk.

Ultimately, there is no way to escape Facebook’s claws of destruction. Yes, you may despair.

Beautiful German Country Side

Image by beatbull via Flickr Cathedral of Fulda with Sun and Lens Flare, Fulda, Hessen, Germany

Germany is on my top ten cool places I want to visit.

The language is awesome and the country itself  is beautiful. Check out this video of the German country side( make sure your volume is up ALL THE WAY. The music is a bit soft and you have to hear it to get a real feel for the whole vibe of the video):

Isn’t it beautiful?

5 Ways To Make Your Dentist Suffer

Tell me that's not evil.

We all hate dentists. If you say you don’t, you would be lying. Whether you hate dentists because one of them “accidentally” drilled a hole through your tongue  or you hate how, despite being a dentist, your dentist has NO TEETH, we all want them to suffer.

(If you are a dentist and you’re reading this. PLEASE DON’T HURT ME!)

Below are the most innovative ways to make your local dentist feel you wrath:

Method 1: Onion Rings

Onion rings is code for any rancid smelling food. This includes, but is not limited to:

Spoiled milk (the clumpy kind is the BEST)

Mildewed cheese (The best way to go green)

Garlic smoothie (also keeps ‘dem vampires away)

Dog food

Garbage

Sewer water

Grass

If you want to be REALLY efficient, I suggest you put all of my suggestions (and anything else you can think of) into a pot and make Stinky Stuff Soup.

Method 2: Scream

Every time your dentist gets near you, looks at you, smiles, sniffs you, scream at the top of your lungs. If he asks why, say: “For a moment…heh….I thought you were going to smash me up and make me into your ‘special toothpaste’ “, then scream again.

Method 3: Forget the Brush

For the entire month before your appointment, don’t brush your teeth, don’t look at your tooth-brush, don’t even think about your toothbrush.

Method 4: Curious

Before you sit down, ask your dentist what each tool does that he’s going to use, then ask him what would happen if you threw a drill at him. He’ll probably respond with something stupid that he thinks is cute like: “Then it will hit me. haha”. Throw the drill at him.

Method 5:  Snakey

This method only works if your dentist is a semi aquatic, egg laying mammal

This won't hurt one bit...NOT! *evil laughter*

of…dentistry  AKA a platypus. Put a rubber snake in your pocket, right when your dentist AKA platypus picks up the drill throw the rubber snake at him! He’ll be so scared he’ll drop the drill on his feet…It will hurt.

Think: if we all banded together we could make dentists suffer EVERYWHERE! But it starts with you…

Presenting…Boo Radley!

Today, I would like to talk about the wonderful and beautiful Boo Radley. I think he’s the coolest thing since minced pears….and edible fedoras (BUY ME ONE FOR MY BIRTHDAY!).

No I don’t mean this Boo Radley:

Though, he’s pretty amazingsauce, he can’t quite compare to this:

Say Hello to Boo Radley. LOOK HOW SHINY!

That’s right. Say hello to my little friend. I finally got a MacBook, baby. He shall be called Boo Radley. Below is the top three reasons why Boo Radley amazing, but can’t quite compare to my brand new friend, Boo Radley (confused, yet?):

1. Sure, Boo Radley has mad ninja skills, not to mention he’s a socially awkward recluse (sound familiar? *cough*likeme*cough*), but can he last TEN HOURS on a single charge? The answer is no. Boo Radley needs TWO charges to last 10 hours. Boo Radley is also a robot…
2. Yeah, Boo Radley is a Robot Ninja, but can he read aloud an ENTIRE webpage? Can he recognize faces just by looking at PICTURES? No. No, he can not.
3. I made this picture on my Mac:

Don't you dare ask me about Boo Radley's pants.

CAN BOO RADLEY MAKE PICTURES!?!?!

Actually, I’m not sure. Let me go ask him.

BOO RADLEEEEYYY!!!!