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Google, thanks for making me look edgy.  Or like a giant pervert.

Thanks to the reader who pointed out my name in Google search, which may or may not have been a family member.  Eek.

For my birthday this year I told every single one of my friends I didn’t want to celebrate.  I made idle threats to anyone who wanted to make a big deal of the day, including my mother.  Luckily Summer and RLO didn’t listen to me and insisted we at least have brunch and see a movie.  They both knew I’d end up regretting the birthday hermit plan, and I probably would have.

When Summer surprised me with Metallica tickets I nearly broke down in tears.  Sad but true. HA, did you catch that?  Oh yeah, country girl knows her Metallica songs.  I loved the band when I was younger and knowing that she cared enough to make it possible for me to see them was the highlight of my day.

RLO, too, was in a gift giving mode.  He gave me two presents, both of which he was morally against:

He hates the thought of me collecting Pyrex, which makes no sense whatsoever.  He also detests the fact that I always want things with Splenda rather than sugar, only proving he wants me to live long enough to torture him for years to come. So the fact he put aside his hate and bought me a Pyrex book and my favorite coffee flavoring with Splenda proves he really is a good friend in spite of the fact I’m so horrible to him.

Thanks to everyone who called, emailed, left blog/Twitter comments and sent text messages. I’m genuinely touched over how caring, not just my friends, but complete strangers can be.  I’m a lucky lady, and it sort of makes being older not quite so horrible. Thank you!

Dear RLO,

Mark your calendar; my birthday is one month from today.  For my birthday I would like a month long celebration.  And as everyone knows, no celebration is complete without cake.  Your job is cake–a month of cake.

You’re busy with school, I know, so rather than a daily cake just keep me in continuous cake.  I’ll try and eat slow, but no written promises.  Is this really too much to ask of you?  I think not.  You’re already skating on thin ice as it is.  That chocolate you brought into the movie last night was horrible.  And this busy thing?  It’s getting old.  Your roommate only has one birthday per year.  I swear this is the 14th time you’ve had to stay home to celebrate.  I’m onto you RLO.  You do realize you can be replaced, right?

Just yesterday I had lunch with a new friend, Summer, who I met through blogging. I wished all of my female readers lived in SLC so we could get together and have one giant sleepover.  Of course hundreds of woman may result in a giant catfight, or porn.  Either way I could video the event and sell to my male readers, which will pay my tuition.  I’ll consider it a scholarship, ahem.

Out of that many woman there’s got to be a BFF. If I were you, I’d get yourself to the grocery store for baking supplies. If you don’t come through on the cake thing, I’m going to have to find another BFF.  Consider yourself warned.

Love,
Sarah

Although I’ve forbidden it, RLO does have other friends.  Most of which are female.  And if I hadn’t recently promised to stop making him sound so gay on this website I’d point out that the boy has more fag hags than Hollywood.  That doesn’t make him sound gay, right?  That’s what I thought.

Anyway, one of these friends, Sugar, recently took a trip to Chicago for business and met up with an old friend who lives there. The friend was playing with Sugar’s phone and noticed some pictures that RLO had taken.  When Sugar mentioned his name the friend asked if she was talking about Sarah Nielson’s RLO.

Which leave me wondering why strangers on the Internet realizes I own RLO, but he doesn’t.  Clearly I have my work cut out for me.

My friend Kelli is a sneaky little bitch, which is exactly why I adore her.  Being the horrible, anti-social blogger that I am, I never fill out those survey things.  Even when tagged by someone as lovely as a Summer day. Kelli took it upon herself to force my hand into taking part, though technically I still didn’t post a meme or fill one out for myself.  I’m only telling you about it, because Kelli threatened me.  AND, because I’m too busy working on homework today to write a proper post.

To read my column for In Utah This Week click here. I also wrote a guest post for The Kel, which you can read here. Obviously you have a lot to read, so snap to it.

Last night RLO and I went to dinner and then to see Hamlet 2.  When we got to the theater there was a long line of people filing into Man on Wire.  I’m extremely lucky he still went to the movie I wanted to see, because he’s been wanting to see the other movie since I failed to get tickets for it at last year’s Sundance Film Festival.

I think it’s safe to say he enjoyed the movie, because not once on the way home did he ask me to stop singing the lyrics to “Rock Me Sexy Jesus” at the top of my lungs.  I’m sure he’s hoping I will replace my Baby Jesus obsession with Sexy Jesus, to which I say there’s never enough Jesus–proving I have the ability to obsess over both.

Although he did ask about the guest blog post.  In fact, now that I think about it that could have been his polite way of shutting me the fuck up.

RLO: “Any ideas who this guys is?”

Sarah: “My readers think you’re Trollpop.  A few emailed me about it, and a couple left comments about it.”

RLO: “I’m very disappointed in the Internet right now.”

Sarah: ” I know, but they don’t understand you’re way too lazy to start a blog.  I couldn’t even get you to post to the Twitter account I made you.”

I’ve received quite a few emails asking me to post a vlog of Daisy.  This is not an easy task.  The only time Daisy has ever been interested in my computer is when Miss Kiesha sent me this pug screen saver.  I had to start putting my laptop away after she saw that, rather than leaving it on the floor.  The MacBook humping was getting a little out-of-control.  Her, for once.  Not me.

Internet I tried my hardest, but Daisy wasn’t feeling it.  I’ll try again another time.  Perhaps after I cover my computer screen in peanut butter, or bacon bits.  Here’s my one-eyed little bitch.

If that’s not enough I have a couple of video clips of her on You Tube here and here.

Earlier this week I lost my car in a parking garage. There is only one person to blame for this, and it’s obviously not me. It’s this girl.

Doni is an Internet stranger. Scratch that. Doni was an Internet stranger, until this week when we met for coffee. I think a shiver just went up my mother’s spine. My mom doesn’t understand that the Internet has THE best people. Ever. They bring you presents when they don’t even know you.

When parking in a garage I always write down the location of my car. I can’t be trusted to remember anything as important as the location of my car. I was late meeting Doni for coffee so in my rush I didn’t write down the car location. Enter lost car. Forty five minutes, and three levels later I found my car. To reward myself I stopped at Starbucks. For those of you paying attention, yes, I did just come from a coffee shop. BUT, in our excitement to meet, Doni and I both forgot to actually order coffee. Or at least I did. Back at the second Starbucks I realized I had lost my debit card, after I had ordered my coffee and been prepared. Fuck.

When I tried to explain the situation to the barista, she asked why I didn’t pay with the credit card she noticed in my wallet. I tried to explain to her I’d maxed it out just the night before when I found a pair of Joe ‘s jeans I just couldn’t live without in Nordstroms. She looked at me blankly, so in an effort to make her understand I showed her. “Seriously, look at how good these make my ass look.” I did a slow model twirl for her. Again, she looked at me blankly and I gave up. I walked out of a Starbucks for the second time in one day without any coffee, which for me is more tragic than a lost car, or a lost debit card.

After reading every comment left on the Pimp Your Blog post I think it’s safe to say I have the most incredible, supportive readers—you guys are way better than a boyfriend. Now if I could get you to take out my trash and change my light bulbs I’d marry you. All of you. What I’m saying is I’m so glad you bitches are here and want to snuggle and head nuzzle every single one of you. Some of you even twice.

As promised here is the complete list of links left. I’m only a couple blogs in, but will read them all in time; I swear on Daisy. If you don’t see your link here, or if it doesn’t click through properly email me and I’ll set down my bottle glass of wine and fix it.

http://www.transplanta.com
http://www.mattlogelin.com
http://doniinthecity.blogspot.com
http://talesofmikkimoto.blogspot.com
http://www.glossyveneer.com
http://www.jillwillrun.com
http://thealmostrightword.net
http://www.heavyonthecaffeine.com
http://baby-specialist.com
http://singlemomslife.wordpress.com/
http://www.blumaxx.blogspot.com/
http://www.dropping50.com
http://calicobebop.blogspot.com
http://zeghsy.blogspot.com
http://breathingmoss.wordpress.com
http://blog.calanan.com/
http://TwentyFourAtHeart.typepad.com
http://seriouslyash.blogspot.com
http://www.jessibellam.blogspot.com
http://thewablog.com.
http://knaphrodesiac.blogspot.com
http://myfuckingeye.com
http://amasktohidebehind.blogspot.com
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