15

Stats Smhats

in Life

I’m not really into whoorl’s stats. I check them maybe twice a month- just to see a top-level overview of how many people are visiting. This behavior is quite baffling, considering I am one of the most analytical people on the planet. It must be my way of keeping afloat above the black hole of stats obsession. I can see it now- a twitchy recluse hiding out in my dark closet, only the laptop’s glow illuminating my face. Yes, statcounter has THAT kind of power.

I took some time this weekend to delve a little deeper, mainly due to the incessant emails I have been receiving this past week informing me that YOU ARE AT THE BANDWIDTH LIMIT. PLEASE CONTACT SYSTEM ADMINISTRATOR IMMEDIATELY. Which I totally read out loud in a robot voice everytime I receive one. I AM A BANDWIDTH ROBOT HERE TO DESTROY YOU AND YOUR MAKER.

Bandwidth limit? Are you kidding me? I remember last year, yelling to D, “OH MY GAH! 15 people added me to their favorites this month! DOUBLE WOOT!”

I guess things have changed. And I’m pleasantly surprised! And maybe a little confused. Ok, and a teensy-weensy freaked out.

But as Bruce Almighty would say, it’s good. It’s good. It’s guhhhhd.

However, I now have to pump a little more money into this endeavor to support the bandwidth issue. I think you know where I’m going with this…

Yes, there may or may not be advertisements appearing in my sidebar soon.

AND YOU WILL LIKE IT OR THE BANDWIDTH ROBOT WILL DESTROY YOU AND YOUR MAKER.

19

How Apropos

in Family

Did anyone watch Grey’s Anatomy last night? In the midst of my nanny search, was it really necessary to include a storyline about a nanny backing over a child with the SUV?

And to make matters worse, the child ONLY wants the nanny to comfort her in the hospital? And not her own mom? Who doesn’t even know HER CHILD’S BLOOD TYPE?! OR HER FAVORITE LULLABY? BECAUSE SHE CHOSE TO WORK OVER TAKING CARE OF HER CHILD?!

IS THIS A GLIMPSE INTO MY FUTURE?! Sweet Jebus ABC, could you make me feel any shittier?

I can see it now, Wito scraping his knee and calling out to Marta/Amalia/Heather/Emily/Amy (all fine candidates, might I add).

I better go figure out my child’s blood type.